Dark Light (The Dark Light Series) (41 page)

Once we’ve gotten on the road, I rest my head on Dorian’s shoulder and fold my feet into the seat. We’ve claimed the back row while James, Miguel and Morgan sit in front of us. Jared has offered to drive this time so he and Aurora sit in the front seats. This time the trip is different. Everyone is engaging in lighthearted conversation and getting along. It gives me hope that there will be many more trips together as a group.

“Hey, before I forget, I wanted to invite you to Morgan’s house this weekend,” I whisper to Dorian. “Her parents are throwing her a little get together in honor of her getting her license and landing a great job at such a fabulous salon.”

Dorian instantly becomes rigid. “When is it?”

“This Saturday. And of course, my parents would be there. That is, if you want to meet them.” Yikes. I literally hold my breath until he answers.

“Yeah, you see, I would but I don’t think that’s such a good idea. With me technically being Morgan’s boss, I don’t want it to look like I’m showing her any favoritism. I’m sure other employees of the salon will be there.” Dorian toys with a lock of my hair and twirls it around his finger. “Don’t want to give them the wrong impression.” He plants a kiss on my pouting lips to silence any questioning. He knows the affect he has on me and he’s taking full advantage of my weakness. 

“You look younger,” I murmur quietly, once he pulls away. 

“Do I?” he asks in an equally hushed voice. I notice Aurora’s head turns just a fraction from the front seat. She must be able to hear our whispers, though I’m positive no one else can.

“You do. Successful trip, I assume?” I cock my head to one side and give him a pointed stare.

“I guess you could say that. Just took care of some things. And conveyed a status report. Not very eventful.”

“Will that happen often? You running off to Greece?” My tone is desperate, almost pained. Feelings that startle me.

Dorian looks at me intensely, his eyes searching mine for the reason behind my sudden show of emotion. “Yes.”

I feel my face drop so I quickly turn my head to look at the blur of passing trees out the window. I hate myself for feeling like this, feeling so vulnerable and needy. I told myself I wouldn’t get emotionally involved, that I could separate my body from my heart. Who was I kidding? That could have never happened. Dorian is the most sensual, intense, mesmerizing man I have ever met. He has made love to every single part of me, inside and out. I set myself up for failure from the start. 

Dorian leaves me with my tortured thoughts and doesn’t attempt to question me. He’s giving me space, exactly what I need in this moment. It’s crazy how well he knows me and how little I know about him. I don’t know what awaits him in Greece. He could have a wife and kids there, and live some salacious double life. As gorgeous, successful, and, well, perfect as he is, it is certainly possible. Why
wouldn’t
he be attached? 

“Don’t think too much,” Dorian whispers, his lips suddenly at my ear. 

I look at him skeptically. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” he answers with a raised eyebrow.

“Say things to me as if you know what I’m thinking.” I’m a bit annoyed at the possibility that he could be invading on my private thoughts. My pathetic ramblings are for me and only me.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Dorian chuckles. “I’m not a mind reader. Just perceptive, which isn’t difficult considering my…background. And yours too.”

“What do you mean, ‘
your background
’? And mine? What are you talking about?” I scoot closer to him and look at him anxiously.

“Your aura, Gabriella. I can see it. Just like you can see mine.” Dorian assesses my shocked, mortified expression. “It’s ok, you know. All kinds of average, ordinary people can see auras, too. It’s really no big deal.”

Whoa. So Dorian definitely knows that I’m different. But how different? And why is he just now divulging that he knows about my abnormality? All this time trying to ignore the vivid colors that halo his magnificence, and all the while he can see it too. In some odd way, I feel comforted with this revelation. Less alone in my new life. Though it is impossible for Dorian to be exactly like me, he’s
something.
He can relate, sympathize. But that’s as far as it goes. 

I give Dorian a weak grin and shake my head. “You’re not like me. No one is.”

His finger captures my chin and he turns it to face him, his eyes wild with intense emotion. “I’m more like you than you think.”

“Ok, bathroom break!” Jared calls from the driver’s seat, pulling into the parking lot of a gas station. I hadn’t even noticed we were slowing down.

Dorian and I stare at each other intently, neither of us wanting to look away, yet we don’t want to delve any deeper. He’s like me? That’s preposterous. The Light vowed to remain out of my life until I pledged my allegiance to them. And he can’t be Dark. He just can’t. There’s no way that someone so kind, generous, loving and passionate could be Dark. I may not know him as well as I’d like, but I know that Dorian doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. He is the best kind of good that there is. I could never be that blind, that stupid.
Right?

Reluctantly, I break his hold on my gaze to look towards the front of the van just as James hops out. Refusing to acknowledge the static between Dorian and me, I maneuver myself out of my seat and exit the van. I consciously walk ahead to catch up with Morgan, though I can hear Dorian’s footsteps behind me. I need to put some space between us; I need to escape the magnetism that draws me to him like a moth to a flame and renders me completely foolish. He makes me forget all caution and sensibility, allowing me to abandon my usual skeptical, distrusting nature. I need some normalcy. I need my best friend. 

Unfortunately, when we enter the ladies room, Aurora is there in all her grand perfection, looking anything but normal. Looks like my pow-wow with Morgan will have to wait, though I have no clue what I would tell her. It’s not like I could be honest with her. And what would honesty entail? I am not even sure I could even explain my suspicions about Dorian to her without her laughing in my face or running for the hills. No. I can’t confide in Morgan with this.

I spend the remainder of the ride into the Springs with a pleasant smile plastered on my face. Dorian has also abandoned his natural smoldering intensity and is engaging in casual conversation with the rest of the guys about random sporting events, or something equally monotonous. They could honestly be talking about killing puppies and the same dumb grin would be plastered on my face. My head is elsewhere. Dorian keeps dropping these bombs of truth on me, totally making me question my own judgment, which up until now was one of my most redeeming qualities.
Unless tequila is involved, of course.
But why would he do that? If he is truly Dark, wouldn’t he want to conceal his identity in order to deceive, and then eventually, kill me?

“Would you like to come up?” Dorian asks as we pull up to the main building at the Broadmoor. We have already taken Aurora to her posh downtown apartment which, to my dismay, is not too far away. 

“I better get home. Parents will be expecting me.” It’s the truth; I haven’t sent more than a couple text messages to confirm my safety the entire weekend.

Dorian slightly nods then leans forward to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. “You know where to find me,” he murmurs before exiting the van.

As we pull away from the Broadmoor, away from Dorian, anxiety and sorrow creep into my chest. The farther we travel, the more distance wedged between Dorian and I, the worse I feel. I want to tell Jared to turn back around, to take me back to the man that I love. I want run back into his arms where safety and security live but I know I have to go home. The thought of being miles away from him unsettles me. I can literally feel the dull ache gripping my heart. I don’t understand it, and frankly, it scares me.

By the time we pull up to Briargate, I am barely holding onto my sanity. Pain is etched in my face, though I ignore the questioning glances from my friends. They don’t understand. They never could. This goes so far beyond being in love with Dorian.
I need him
. He’s ensured that. This is exactly what he wants. He wants me so dependent on him that I can’t say no. I have to fight the crippling urge to run back to him. If I do, then he will own me completely. I struggle to gulp down the rising taste of melancholy in my tight throat and flash a weak smile goodbye. Chris and Donna can’t see me like this. They will surely know that something is wrong.

“Gabriella! Oh thank goodness you are home!” my mom says rushing to me as soon as I open the door.
Sheesh.

“It’s only been a couple days, Mom. Nice to see you too,” I murmur as she squeezes me in an urgent embrace. Chris is right behind her, a somber look on his face.
Shit.
Something is wrong. “What’s up? Everything ok?”

Chris takes my bag from me and quickly closes the door, locking it. He ushers us to the living room where I flop down on the couch. Mugs of tea and papers litter the coffee table, an unusual sight in the ordinarily pristine room. 

“This came for you, Kiddo,” Chris says sliding one of the papers towards me. His disturbed expression alerts me and I automatically think it’s a letter from my school. Crap. Am I failing a class? Does it say I won’t graduate in a couple weeks? 

I take the white sheet in my hands and hold my breath as I look at the words scrawled in black ink. It’s worse than I initially thought. So much worse.  Yet fear does not greet me. Only rage. Extreme rage that causes my face to heat and my knuckles to turn white over my fists. I’m shaking with violent anger and my jaw is tightly clenched, causing my gums to hurt from the pressure.

Dark Light,

We know who you are. And we are watching. 

Eleven months.

Align with the Dark or Die.

It’s the last thing I see before every light bulb in the living room grows blindingly bright, then pops and shatters instantaneously, leaving us all shrouded in complete darkness.

We all spring to our feet- my parents in alarm, me in anger. Though only a trickle of sunlight illuminates the room from between the curtains, I can clearly see the worry etched in their faces. They do not fear that someone has come here to hurt us, immobilizing us by breaking the bulbs. They are afraid of me. I caused the sudden darkness. The violent ripples of rage rolling off of me have caused the light bulbs to explode right before us. I try to loosen my tight fists and control the tremors ripping through me. I don’t mean to frighten them. I didn’t even know I was capable of this. 

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…mean to,” I stammer between clenched teeth, shaking my head stiffly. I try to take deep breaths in order to calm myself. I begin to feel the tension dissipate from my shoulders as I will myself to relax. 

“I know, honey,” Donna replies meekly. She understands what has happened here though I’m not entirely sure myself. 

Though fear has momentarily gripped her, my mom cautiously advances towards me and slowly places her hand on my shoulder. Chris is more hesitant and has not dropped his defensive stance, though his startled expression has grown softer. He approaches inch by inch with measured steps. My parents are afraid of me and what I will do. It’s as if I am a wild animal- unpredictable, vicious, dangerous. The revelation stops me up short and I completely release the fury that has resulted in their trepidation.

I swallow loudly, though my mouth is dry. “I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know how I did that.” My head drops to the floor in shame.

“I know. I know, dear,” my mom repeats, patting my back. She’s trying to comfort me but I know she is uncomfortable just touching me. It pains me to know that I am solely responsible for her terror.

“Have a seat, Kiddo. Let’s just try to calm down and talk about this,” Chris says, ushering his wife to the love seat, away from me. He is protecting her from me just in case I lose it again, as he should.

I take the seat farthest from them, tucking my hands between my knees. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I just got so angry. How did this get here?” I say nodding towards the letter still lying on the coffee table. Donna stands to open the curtains to let the sunlight brighten the room and the mood.

“It was in our mailbox yesterday morning. It wasn’t addressed or anything, just in a blank envelope. We tried to call you; didn’t you get any of our messages or texts?” Chris asks.

I shake my head, not recalling any missed calls or voicemail, though I haven’t actually been paying much attention to my cell phone. I know I looked at it earlier that morning and it didn’t indicate any messages. 

“Humph. That’s strange,” he murmurs, rubbing his temples. He looks like he’s aged within the past 5 minutes.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, you know,” I say quietly. “I tried to keep this under control, tried to handle this stuff on my own. I never thought they’d send something here.”

“What do you mean?” Chris questions. “You’ve received other notes? And didn’t tell us?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “I started getting random messages a few weeks ago. My car, my phone.” I leave out the mysterious voice in the Breckenridge nightclub. They would lock me up and never let me leave the house for sure. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donna chimes in. She comes to sit beside me, despite Chris’s rigid posture and flexed jaw. He’s still on edge.

“And then what? What could you possibly do?” I ask incredulously, looking between the both of them. “Besides worry yourselves to death about something or someone we couldn’t possibly fight?” I feel a wave of fresh anger begin to wash over me and I immediately start a series of deep breaths. 

“We could’ve been there for you. You’re a strong girl; we know that. But you can’t keep taking things on alone. Everyone needs support.” My mom wraps a warm arm around me and squeezes gently. Chris nods in agreement.

I shake my head in exasperation and shrug out of my mom’s embrace, standing to my feet. “I wish that were true, but I won’t put you two in danger. Not after all you have already risked in order to keep me safe. It’s final; I’m moving out in a couple weeks. I’ll stay through graduation but that’s it.”