DARK SOULS (Dark Souls Series) (24 page)

I had to find out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

With my decision made to find out more about Gwyn and Asher despite their very real, very potent threats, on the morning of Liz’s party, I pulled myself out of bed and headed to the shower. Luckily, Macy hadn’t completely dismissed me despite my recent absence, and she would be coming over today so we could both get ready for the party together. She even clapped her hands with glee when I mentioned to her yesterday that I wanted her to come by.

“Oh Ems, I thought you’d never ask!” she said, fluttering her eyes at me over the coffee counter. “I would love to go to the party with you! But there is one thing—we don’t really know each other anymore, so am I safe with you? Should you meet my parents first?”

I knew she was just playing around with me, but I didn’t have to look hard to detect the hurt underneath. Guilt squirmed like slippery worms in my stomach as I smiled at her. “I promise I’ll make a good impression.”

She returned my smile, forgiving my nonexistence in her life as of late. I counted myself lucky to have such a genuine, true friend.

Macy being Macy, while she had been coming up with her own costume, she had also been mischievously creating mine. I think she knew deep down that I would attempt to duck out of going to the party, if I even went in the first place. In an obvious attempt to preempt my planned escape, Macy declared herself the sole member of my ‘Glam Squad’ and, as such, she decreed that I would be forced into a dress and wrangled over to the party, “even if I have to roll you up in carpet and drag you there.” To add to my growing unease, Macy refused to tell me what she’d chosen.

“I’m not telling you until the dress is glued to your body,” she said, but softened at my panicked look. “You’ll like it, I promise. No corpse bride for you.”

I decided to relax a little bit before Macy came over. The hot spray of the shower soothed my muscles, and I realized that it had felt like a very long time since I had actually had a calm, normal morning. With that realization came the instant panging need to have that normalcy back. I wasn’t going to last much longer if I didn’t at least try to relax and bring back a regular routine in my life. 

It turned out that relaxation in thought was a lot easier than in practice. I was much too jittery and any efforts to nap, read, or even halfheartedly exercise. I eventually found the solution to calm my jittery nerves by beginning to clean. I shot through the apartment with inhuman speed, comfortable to let loose, energy pulsing off of me in waves as I buffed the wooden floors, dusted the tables and shelves, and even wiped down each window. Once finished, I didn’t even have to take a moment to catch my breath. I looked around, taking note of the gleaming countertops and dust-free furniture, and smiled at a job well done.

By the time I had finished my enthusiastic scrubbing, dusting and washing, taken a quick walk around the East Village and run up and down the five flights to my apartment three times, it was already four o’clock and Macy was going to be here any second. I headed to the bathroom mirror in order inspect myself and wash off any residual dust bunnies on my skin, and was happy to see that my energetic day had caused my skin to glow with a delicate golden sheen, but otherwise, I looked pretty normal—just a better version of the usual unkempt Emily that Macy knew and loved. The physical changes had dulled somewhat due to my expending of energy, which is exactly what I was hoping for. I was confident that my dulled powers could fly under every demon’s radar tonight, and most especially, Asher and Gwyn’s.

The darkness snapped irritably to get my attention.

Ignoring the sharp sting and the instant stomach pain that followed, I began to wash my face just as I heard the sound of the buzzer.

“Ems!” Macy said once I opened the door, breathless, her arms laden with gowns and what looked suspiciously like multiple pink cosmetic bags. “Good god, help me. Those stairs…this stuff. I’ve died.” She fell into the apartment. “You’re looking at the Ghost of Macy Past right now.”

“What, that was hard?” I asked her, laughing as I helped her with her bundle of clothing. “You should’ve texted. I would have come down and helped.”

“Well, I can never be too sure of you these days.” She walked over and dumped the clothing and bags on the bed before sighing heavily and melting down beside the pile. “Seriously, I’m pooped. I was just at the Upper West Side with Liz and Amanda. They freaking rented out a ballroom in a hotel. Went all out with the decorations. You’re going to die when you see the place.”

I nodded as enthusiastically as I could and made room for myself on the bed. “I know you guys worked hard.”

Unable to resist temptation any longer, I began poking through the clothes that Macy had brought over. “So, what’s my outfit? Dead prom queen?”

“Oh!”

Feeling less tired now that she had the business of beauty to attend to, Macy jumped back up to her feet and sifted through the glittery pile. “I told you I wasn’t going to make you a corpse or anything that would otherwise be seen as awesomely gory. I saw the look on your face when I mentioned being a dead lady in a fancy ball gown.”

Her face flickered with an emotion I couldn’t place, but before I could study her further, she continued, “So, I thought of the next best thing.”

She held up what originally looked like a white satin strapless dress. Gold trimming had been added along the bust and circled into an empire waist. The embellishments glittered softly in the lamplight as Macy moved the dress back and forth in her hands. I held out my own hand to feel the soft, cool fabric glide between my fingers when I saw that Macy had dipped the bottom of the gown in scarlet dye, giving it a dark, blood-red gleam that blended into the white of the gown, the color rising up like smoke in hazy, curling tendrils.

I couldn’t help but be confused. “Macy, it’s beautiful, but...I don’t know what it is.”

She smiled at me in amusement before saying, “It was the best I could think of for you.”

Before speaking further, she turned back to the couch and began searching through one of her pink cosmetic bags, her face pinched in concentration until she found what she was looking for. She pulled it out and held it out to me. 

“It’s a pomegranate,” she said, mistaking my look of wonder for confusion. “For Persephone.”

Pushed forward by my silence, she continued her explanation, her nervousness apparent. “I read all about her in my Mythology class. She reminded me of you, somehow.” Macy paused, and in her eyes I saw a look of such deep understanding towards me that I remained frozen silent.

“And hey, she is Queen of the Underworld, right? So it goes perfectly with the Dark Masquerade.”

“Macy, I don’t know what to say,” I managed to get out, my throat tight with emotion. “I can’t believe you thought of this.”

A girl, sucked into the black depths against her will, pushed to turn into something she couldn’t control, before finally accepting what she was: a Queen who loved her King, a woman who accepted her darkness as well as her light.

Macy’s understanding of me went deeper than I could ever have fathomed.        

I pictured her the past few weeks, filing Persephone away and researching her story in detail in order to create the perfect dress for me, all the while without me at her side. Feelings of guilt and love swelled up in me while I looked at her as she stood in front of me, holding out a gown that was absolutely, utterly made for me.

“Emily, I know you’ve been through something. Something dark,” Macy said, her eyes lowered as she looked at me. “You don’t have to talk about it,” she added as soon as she registered the stiff look on my face, “You don’t ever have to talk about your past with me. But I get you, okay? I understand you, and I’m always here for you. I really want you to know that.”

I had to look away in order to hide my brimming tears. I didn’t deserve her. I truly didn’t deserve her.

“Thank you,” I said, fighting off the tears enough to meet her gaze. I cleared my throat before repeating, “Thank you.”

“Well,” Macy said, clearing her own throat of the thick emotion, “let’s see if this actually fits you. And here,” Macy pulled something gold out of her bag, and I saw that it was a barrette with delicate golden leaves trailing along the edges. Macy handed it to me, and I held the delicate gold with both hands.

“To represent the lighter part of her, you know? To represent her mother.”

My stomach twisted at her words, and I had to battle to continue looking calm and cheerful on the outside. To cover my emotion, I took the costume from Macy’s hands and rushed to my bathroom, not really needing to change in private but requiring that privacy to give me time to get my wave of emotions under control.

Once I had reached the bathroom and shut the door quietly, I slipped into the dress, goose bumps pimpling my flesh as the cool fabric caressed my heated skin. The dress ended up fitting like a glove, and my chest slowly unclenched as I looked into the mirror and leveled my gaze at my reflection. I rested the headpiece gently around my head, with tendrils of my hair curling softly above and around the glittering gold leaves. Looking in the mirror, I took long, slow breaths, wishing that I could be the normal Emily that Macy knew so we could go back to the way we were, without so much sadness. As I saw the dark flame flicker with gold behind my eyes, I knew with sorrow that it could never happen.

I can do this
, I thought at my reflection.

I walked out of the bathroom, and Macy gasped in delight. But her face changed into one of concern when she said, “Shoot. I’m not really sure where you’re going to put this pomegranate.”

I had to laugh, and it sounded so foreign on my tongue but felt so good at the same time. “Let’s just stick it in my purse. I’ll pull it out if people get confused and wonder what I am.”

“Oh, people will know,” Macy said as she took me in, her gaze traveling up and down my outfit. “You look...astonishing.”

I didn’t allow her to dwell long on my physical transformation. I changed the subject to her costume, and it worked. Her face transformed into one of sheer determination as we pulled out all of the necessities for her costume. Hers was much more intricate than mine, and it took us at least an hour to get her perfected as what she named herself, “a Dead Lady-in-Waiting.”

Once she was fully dressed and had finished her ghostly make-up, even I had to raise my brows in approval. She had donned a baby blue gown with white lace trailing along the bottom and on the bust, and I’m sure that in its original state, the dress would have been gorgeous. However, true to her craft and her dedication to ghostly glamour, she had cut strips along the fabric and dotted it with droplets of fake blood and black dye. Her make-up complimented the dirty, bloody dress, as she had put hollows in her cheeks and underneath her eyes and had used white powder over her face, casting her in a pale, deathly glow. She had slashed her lips with bright red lipstick and, once she was finished, I couldn’t help but comment that she was a beautiful dead person.

“Oh, almost forgot!” she said as we began to head out the door, snapping her fingers and retreating back into her pink cosmetic bags.

She pulled out two eye-masks, hers in a white Mardi Gras style with a white feather trailing out of one side and eye holes that tilted up like a cat’s. There was a tiny little crevice to fit her nose. She had also taken scissors and black dye to the mask, giving it a grisly gray cast.

For me, she held out a golden mask cut to resemble curling tendrils of lace. The glittering swirls framed the right eye, cresting down over the cheekbone and curving at the corner of the mouth before rising up and framing the nose. The left side of the mask covered only the brow bone, with the fragile twirls of lace arching up until the last tendril softly framed the temple. It was the most unique mask I had ever seen, and my fingers caressed it as it glowed under my dim apartment lights.

“Found it on ebay. In true Masquerade style, of course,” she said, smiling before taking my arm and leading me to the door. “Don’t look so forlorn, Ems. Parties are supposed to be fun things. You’re supposed to
enjoy
yourself. And look,” she dug into her bag one more time, pulling out what looked like straps of gold. “Sandals.”

I laughed with her, and I couldn’t help but hope that she was right, that I would finally be able to be normal and enjoy myself among friends for just one night, and most of all, to finally feel safe. I put the sandals on, the gold straps wrapping around my calves, once again thankful that I had a friend who knew me so well.

Feeling a brief burst of anticipation, I stood and settled the golden mask onto my eyes and smiled with her as we descended the stairs.

I could only hope.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

By the time we made it to the Upper West Side, Macy for the most part maneuvering her gown around other subway commuters, the hotel ballroom was already crowded with both costumed monsters and real-life demons alike. I had to gasp at the decorations. Macy was right, the place looked eerie and mysterious, and although I had never seen any Dark Masquerade theme before, I thought that this is exactly what it would look like.

The ballroom had taken on a cavernous feel, with shadows created by perfectly placed spotlights in the corners. White and gray draperies cascaded across the walls, flowing heavily onto the ground and casting their own black shadows across the dance floor. Golden chandeliers decorated the walls and cast the room in a dim glow, with electric candles placed on each table, their soft light flickering as they rested on white and grey tablecloths. The room really had taken on the shadowy, gloomy feel of a ghostly dance and I couldn’t help but give a shiver of dread as I entered into the eerie setting.

“Wow,” I said to Macy, breaking apart from her slightly in order to let the Phantom of the Opera walk in between us.

“I know, right? I mean, you have to hand it to them, even despite their bitchiness, Amanda and Liz can really pull off a party.”