Darksoul (32 page)

“We’re not coming back to school.”

We. I hated that we. As if they were
a single unit. As if they were inseparable. I couldn’t say it wasn’t sweet. Or heartwarming. But right now, all it did was piss me off.

I tried to stay nonchalant.
“Really.”

He leaned a hand against the wall,
his arm blocking my path. “School was merely a whim. Something to pass the time.” Cocking his head to the side, he said, “The American system is interesting. Stifling, irritating, but…interesting.”

I opened my mouth to comment on that, and then thought better of it. The American system. As if he’d gone to school in countless other countries. “Okay, well,” I said. “Good for you. Now, listen, I
need—” I reached up to massage the bridge of my nose, feeling an uncomfortable prickling behind my eyes. “I’m not in the mood to chat right now. I’m really pissed and confused and annoyed and—”

My voice broke.

Did Hunter’s eyes soften, or was the light playing tricks on me? “You can tell me why.”

“But you’re his twin.”

“I’m not Asher’s twin.”

“Yeah, r
ight. Tell that to the DNA tests.”

“You mean the DNA tests that will tell you
I’m not his twin?”

“Okay. Tell that to the personality tests.”
Grip tightening around my camera, I took another step back. “Look, I appreciate it. But now I’m going to lay down and try not to think. Okay? So I’ll see you. Whenever.”

Okay. Yep. His eyes—which had always been cool, unreadable, calm—were definitely soft. Just at the edges. “I’m not a bad listener, Hazel.”

“You’re not a bad listener because you don’t talk.”

Exactly my point
, his look seemed to say.

I teetered there for a moment. Should I turn him away? Should I give him some
chocolate and send him home?

I did neither. My body acted on its own and, suddenly, I’d thrown myself at him and locked my arms around his torso, clutching him tight. He gave a soft sound of
surprise but didn’t pull away. An embarrassing sob burst out of me, and my fingers curled into the back of his shirt. He lifted his arms and hesitantly wrapped them around me.

“You don’t hug a lot of people, do you?” I mumbled against his
chest, sniffling.

“
Mmm?” He sounded a little out of it.

“Because we need to do some major work on your hugs. Like now.”

I didn’t mean it. I was more than grateful for him putting up with my girl-hormones.

Leaning against the side of my bed, hands interlocked behind his
tousled head, he listened to me rant, sometimes giving thoughtful murmurs but nothing more. I sat cross-legged on the floor as I told him about the memories I suddenly had. Ash had kissed me. So many times that I couldn’t count them. It’d started last September and had been going on ever since. And for the past couple of days, that was the only thing I’d been thinking about—the time that he’d kissed me in the hallway, or after class, or that one time when we were hanging out at the park, or this, and that, and I—
I couldn’t deal. What about the times
he’d been holding me, hugging me, as if I were half teddy bear, half human? He hadn’t kissed me then. What the hell had he been trying to hide? The fact that he needed comfort? Comfort for what?

By this point, there was an open pizza box between
us, along with five cans of soda and the half-finished tub of ice cream that had been in the fridge. He was picking off the pepperoni rounds on his slice, doing so quickly and expertly, as if he’d done it thousands of times before.

I stopped mid-rant. “What are you doing?”

He held up a bright red circle. “One dead animal.” He tossed it aside and plucked off another one. “Two dead animals.” Again. “Three—”

I almost choked on thin air
. “You’re vegetarian?”

He continued cleaning up his slice. Said nothing.

“Oh, my God.” I swallowed back laughter. “You’re one of those hippies who would go to a farm and tie yourself to a cow so no one would kill it. What the hell? That’s kind of cute.”

His voice was
cool. “Too much work, and it’d only save one. I’d rather kill the farmer. Or the owner of the corporation.”

“Well, that’s not nice.”

“I’m not nice.”

Tell me about it. “Look, I…” Back to business now. “I really don’t know what to do with Ash, and—well—”

“Don’t do anything.”

“
But—”

“Hazel.” His
eyes were steady. “I listened to you talk and I’m going to tell it to you how it is. I highly esteem Asher, I really do, but what he did was an act of cowardice. He can’t face his own feelings and what you need to do is let it go until he comes back to you asking for your hand in marriage.” His gaze fell to my left hand. “Unless he did already.”

Scrunching up my eyebrows, I looked down at the black
gem that glittered on my finger. “No,” I said. “That ring—it doesn’t mean anything. He said—”

“He lied.”

“But—”

Hunter met my
eyes and my voice curled back into my throat. There was something about that look, I thought—something that both smoldered and chilled and made you want to crawl under your covers until the sensation of it faded away. I recoiled. He noticed and pulled back, his lashes falling.

“
Okay,” I said.

He was silent for a
second. Then: “She misses you.”

“Who?”

He reached for something in his pocket and held it out toward me. I felt my face soften at what I saw. Io was cupped inside his palm, trembling, staring up at me with wide eyes. I’d left her in Ash’s apartment that day. Had been too mad at Hunter to be near her or any of his
zokyies
. But now I let him pour her into my hands, bringing her up to my face.

“Hi, little one,” I said
gently, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

It
revived her. Suddenly, she giggled and patted her paws together, fluttering up and flashing around like a madman bee. I laughed and tried to keep track of her. But she was going too fast, and I looked at Hunter, gave him a helpless shrug and stopped when I saw that he was already watching me, eyes…soft? My breath caught and I coughed into my fist. What the hell was that look in his face? It was unfamiliar. It was warm. It was…

“What is it?” he asked, tilting his head at me.

I tried to recover. “You ever look at a girl like that, Slade, and her panties will be flying off in a snap.”

He blinked once. “Look at a girl like what?”

“Like—you know. Kind of moon-moon but not really. Kind of like the Hunter version of moon-moon. You know, nice but not too nice. Not needy, not lusty, but, like, warm and stuff? Look, I don’t—”

His lips parted in confusion
before realization dawned on him. After a pause, he said, “Oh.”

“Good job,” I said, coughing one last time. “
Very nice look on you, if I must say—”

He looked as if he’d had enough of the topic. “
Willa wants to see you.”

I stopped short. “Really?”

“She needs a girl in her life and, well. There’s you.”

I considered him for a second. Then I
leaned forward, nudging the half-empty pizza box aside. “You know, you rarely talk about her. And, well, there’s literally me. Sitting right here.”

He stared at me, eyes unreadable.

God. I couldn’t believe this.
I’d known Hunter for months now. For more than half a year. And all I could tell you about him was that he liked animals more than he liked girls, painted like a pro, and wasn’t prone to losing his temper, laughing a lot, or showing his emotions. I wanted him to open up like a willing clam. I wanted him to tell me about his scarred hand, about the Queen, about the job she did for him, about his other name. I wanted him to tell me about Nikolai. About the life he’d had in Haelvia, if he ever lived there.

But all I did was lay beside him, interlace my
fingers behind my head and close my eyes. The room was darkening already, shadows stretching across the ceiling, pressing against the back of my lids. Hunter remained silent.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I said into the stillness
of the room.

A long moment passed. So long that I nearly dozed off. Somewhere outs
ide, water dripped and plopped on half-melted snow. My bedside clock gave a faint tick.

And then, quietly
: “Wilhamina is my only reason for living.”

Three weeks later
I was the one who gave in.

A little belatedly, it hit me. Io—one of Hunter’s
zokyies
, for crying out loud—could transport me to Aiere and back. It was almost the middle of April; Mom’s wedding was coming soon, and though that was taking more of my time than comfortably possible, I still needed to take a second to solve this thing between Ash and me. But I had to talk to Hunter first.

Io called her
zokyie
friends, and together they whirled around me, turning the world into a bright, blinding blur. When they wriggled away, I found myself standing within the cover of the trees. Safely out of sight. Moving as quietly as possible, I hid behind a trunk and peeked out at the plain.

Hunter was sitting in front of the easel
. His fingertips were stained with black; he held a charcoal in one hand and a dirty rag in the other. There was a dark smear on his jawline.

And then i
ce trickled down my bones.

Because there was
Ash. Sitting on a rectangular slice of
ceahel
, his wings drooping behind him, their sharp tips rustling against the grass. Panther had, weirdly enough, uncoiled herself from him, and was now slithering around Hunter’s easel, curling herself around his boot and sliding up his leg. Meanwhile, Ash was speaking in French, running a hand through his hair and taking a drag of his cigarette and talking and letting out a frustrated stream of smoke and going and—
Suddenly, Hunter
lifted his rag and hit him on the face with it. The blow was intentionally gentle, but a puff of charcoal dust still bloomed on Ash’s cheek. It would’ve been funny if I didn’t feel so cold.

“
You’re an idiot,” said Hunter.

“I know,”
Ash said quietly, gaze downcast. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter spared
him a sidelong glance, and then, eyes softening a little, reached out and gave him two pats on the head. “It’s all right.”

A
sh blinked. Hunter returned to the drawing pad and smudged something in. After a moment, Ash said something in quiet French.

“I can stay
a little longer,” said Hunter.

The other boy responded in French.

“I started this yesterday.” Hunter pursed his lips and began to work with the rag. “Hold on.”

Ash let out a
trail of smoke. Along with a sigh. “The Queen—”

“Don’t talk to me about her.”

“But—”

“What the fuck did I just say, Lucien? Don’t talk to me about her.”

Ash’s voice was deadly steady.
“That tone may work with Hazel but not with me. I hope you realize that.”

I stiffened. Hunter remained as unaffected as ever, his facial expression barely budging an inch as he kept going at it with the charcoal.

“Hm,” murmured Ash, and reached out to pinch the air beside Hunter’s arm. Under his touch, a furry blob of light rippled to life, and the
zokyie
desperately tried to wriggle away from his grip. Ash brought it up for inspection, its tiny halo illuminating his face.

“Just at the mention of her name,” he murmured.

Hunter said nothing.

“Why bother h
iding them from me?” asked Ash. “I know when they’re there, Nik.”

“They hide themselves.”

Ash paused. Then he reached out and grasped the air next to Hunter’s cheek. A couple of
zokyies
rippled to life inside his fist, squirming, purring, fearfully blinking at him. He brought the haul closer and studied the wink of light between his fingers. Hesitantly, he drew his fingertip against the one that was trying to escape between his rings. It trembled and shied away.

Quietly, he said, “Am I that bad?”

I didn’t hear Hunter’s response, because, suddenly, a hushed rustle sounded behind me. When I turned, I saw that Hunter’s little friends had come to join the party, and I felt myself soften. The lion stood at the front, his ice antlers glimmering like molded glass, and beside him the unspotted giraffe was ducking her head in a hello.

“Hi,” I said, and smiled.

To my surprise, they didn’t come closer. The fish rounded uneasily in the air. The lion looked shyly at me and then lowered his eyes, taking a step back. In his mane, the
zokyies
were restless. Io squirmed and wriggled into my pocket.

“What is it?” I
said, taking a step forward. “What’s wrong, little buddies?”

Behind me
. “You really shouldn’t try to do this sneaking around thing, Zel. You’re quite bad at it.”

I froze.

Slowly, as if I were in a horror movie, I turned around.

Ash stood there, cheek still black with charcoal and burning cigarette pressed between a thumb and forefinger. Thoughtfully,
he brought it up to his lips and took a drag. Memories flickered behind my lids. Made my mouth burn.

“Uh—yeah.” Licking my lips, I took
a step back, closer to Hunter’s silvery horde. “Where’s Hunter?”

Behind Ash, I saw that th
e easel stood empty. “He left,” he said, and then cocked his head to the side. “I could show you what he’s doing. If you’d let me.”

“I think I’ll stay here and wait for him. You can just—” If you could disappear, that’d be great.

“Huh,” he murmured. “Well, okay. I guess I have no choice.”

“What—”

He stepped forward and slowly sunk to his knee, holding my gaze as he did. Resting an elbow on his thigh, he ducked his head like some kind of princely knight. The crowd shifted uneasily behind me. His wings were two spiky arches against his back, ruffled and steely and terrifying in the night. They flicked up and stirred, as if the thought of remaining still was unimaginable to them.

The crown of Ash’s
hair was a tousled mess in the silvery light. “Will you forgive me?”

I stared down at him, stricken
. Io curled her paws over the edge of my pocket and blinked with interest at him. Something tugged at the back of my ponytail. In the corner of my eye I saw that it was an icy-clear butterfly, trying to pull me away from the scene.

“Ash—”
I said.

“I won’t get up until you answer me.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll call it a truce. Just get up. Please.”

His head remained lowered.
“I know I’ve done nothing to gain your forgiveness.”

“
Look, just—”

“I’m sorry for doing things the way I did,” he said quietly. “I know it d
oesn’t seem like it, but please…please believe me when I say that I genuinely care about you, Zel.”

Frost splintered across my chest
.

“Hunter and I…” Ash’s
gaze stayed fixed on the forest floor, shadowed by his lashes. “We know that we’ve been nothing but jerks to you. You had the chance to leave many times, and when you didn’t, we knew that was your way of giving us another chance. But that day, when you left the apartment…”

I waited for him to finish.

“We’d worn you out. Until you snapped.” His wings stirred and his shoulders rose with a breath. “And I’m sorry.”

A long moment passed. I stared down at him. My face felt like stone. Behind me, the animals remained deathly quiet.

“That was a nice apology,” I said.

Ash showed no visible response to my less-than-moved tone.

“But do you expect me to believe you actually give two shits about me?” I asked coldly. “Because you’ve made it fairly clear that you don’t.” He said nothing, and I sighed. “Listen, Ash, there’s only one person you care about. He’s blonde and exactly your height and I swear he’s your long-lost half-demon twin who may or may not be your non-romantic soul mate. And that’s nice. And I’m not going to complain. But don’t pretend there’s space for me in that piece of shit you call a heart. Only Hunter fits in there—not the girl you were supposedly friends with for almost six years.”

“Zel,” he said quietly.

I would’ve apologized for being so harsh. But right now, I felt no guilt. I felt nothing at all. “I came here for Hunter,” I said, nodding my head at the empty easel. “But I can see he won’t be returning any time soon. So…”

Ash rose
and, after a moment, stretched a hand out to me.

I s
tared down at it, unimpressed. “Yes?”

“I have no probl
em with you being mad at me.” His voice softened. “But please don’t hate me anymore.”

A long two minutes passed. His hand hung between us, unanswered. A stir rippled through Hunter’s animals.
Letting out a breath, I reached out and gave it a curt shake. His fingers were warm around mine.

“
Yuch,” said Ash, grimacing.

I frowned. “What?”

He pulled away and wiped his palm down his pants. “Seems like you were holding a piece of shit in your hand. A crappy one, too. Bet you picked it up at the secondhand store.” He tilted his head at me, his eyes warm and wounded. “I’m sorry you got stuck with it. That wasn’t the owner’s intention.”

It took me a
second to realize what he was talking about. A piece of shit. Huh. Throwing my own words back at me.

“Ha,” I said. “Clever.”

And then I backhanded him across the face.

Red bloomed
on his cheek like spilled blood. His hair whipped across his eyes, toppled over his lashes, and his chest rose and fell with a startled breath.

“If you’re going to try to be my friend, let’s get several thi
ngs straight.” Crossing my arms, I stepped closer to him. “One: no more mixed messages. I’m fucking sick of your mixed messages. And that, I’m afraid, was probably one of the worst you’ve ever sent.” My voice cooled. “Two: No more kissing. No more messing with my mind. And if I hear one more word about me dating Hunter, I’ll rip your head off. It’s not going to happen. Capische? Not. Going. To. Happen. Now,” I said pleasantly, stretching out a hand. “Let’s try this again.”

Ash stared down at it. Then
he slipped his fingers in mine, and we shook again. He looked like a little boy who’d been scolded. One cheek was dusted with charcoal. The other kept getting redder and redder.

Against my will, I felt myself
yield. “And sorry for slapping you.”

“Not like I didn’t deserve it,” he muttered.

“What—is this—” I gave a melodramatic gasp. “Common sense? In you? It can’t be.”

“Come on, Zel. I’m not that bad.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Okay, I’m a little bad.”

My eyebrows edged higher.

“Okay, I’m a lot bad.” I gave him another look, and he said, “Okay, I’m very bad and should be thrown off a cliff wearing nothing but a thong and three pigtails. Happy?”

“No thong.”

“It would be my pleasure to treat you to the fine sight of my loins.”

“This conversation just took a turn for the worse,” I muttered.

His face softened with amusement
, and he nodded his head to the side. “Let me show you something.”

After a moment, I nodded.
Keeping at least a foot’s distance between us, I let him lead the way.

The walls around
us were such a pearly white that I had to squint my eyes to see them properly. Ash had asked Io to take us somewhere in a silky language, and she’d given him a jittery nod. A hundred of her little friends joined her, nervously skittering around the spiky fluff of his wings before settling into a frenzied, choreographed whirl around us. I frowned. Where in hell were we going?

When the
zokyies
cleared away, I got my answer.

Except—I actually didn’t.

The skittish tufts of light curled out of sight and all I saw was white. It was glassy and tinged with blue—remarkably like ice and painfully pristine. The temperature was so teeth-shatteringly cold that I had no choice but to block it out. Under us, the floor was pale and unspotted, and the high ceilings shone with a light of their own. Fragile-looking chandeliers hung at intervals. We were in an empty hallway, that much was clear. But what in the world was this place?