NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1) (8 page)

The words in his journal are all I can
see when I look at him.
 

But when he looks back into my eyes, his
are filled with something else. Pleading.
 

Let
me do this.
 
Let me go.

Let him do what?
 

Learn to live alone?
 
Shoulder things alone?
 
I take a shaky breath and Finn still
stares at me.
 
And stares.
 
And stares.
 
And finally I break under the pale blue
weight of it.
 

“Ok.”

The word comes out like
an exhale
.
 

Finn raises an eyebrow. “Ok?
 
No kicking or screaming?”

I shake my head. “No. Not if you’re
sure.
 
I fought mom and dad over it,
but I’m not going to fight
you.”

I feel resigned and sad and panicky, and
I already feel alone. But what can I do?
 
It’s Finn’s choice. His gaze softens now.

“You’re not fighting me,” he points
out.
 
“You’re doing what I know
needs to be done.
 
And you know it
too, Calla.”

No,
I don’t.
 
I know just the opposite,
actually.
 

But again, what can I do?
 
His mind is made up.

I don’t say anything, because I
can’t.
 
So I nod wordlessly instead.

I push my food around on my plate because
when I try to swallow it now, it sticks in my throat like some sort of
gelatinous sludge.
 
Dad and Finn
keep watching me, waiting for me to protest or argue or throw a fit. But I
don’t. In spite of myself, I somehow remain calm, cool and very collected until
the minute that I can excuse myself and make a break for it.

I rush outdoors, ignoring the fact that
Finn calls out from behind me.
 
I
flee the yard, sucking in air as I run down the path leading to the beach.
 
The trail looks like a silvery ribbon in
the dusky moonlight, twisting and turning through the green wet underbrush and
gleaming dark rocks.
 

The trees form a canopy over the path,
and it’s unsettling here alone in the dark.
 
The shadows give me
goose-bumps
,
because I don’t know what they’re hiding.
 
But even still, even with the moon slivering in through the tree tops
and with the wind calling incoherent words through the pine needles, I’m still
grateful to be here, rather than in my dining room.
 

I push myself forward, away from the
destructive path that Finn seems to be insistent on, and towards the path to
the ocean.

When I reach the beach, my heels sink
into the damp sand, and I’m thankful that it’s low tide.
 
My legs won’t get wet.
 
I make it to the rocks within minutes,
and just as I approach them, a shadow steps away from the boulders.

It’s tall and unexpected, because no one
ever comes here.
 

It pauses, and I suck in a breath.

Then it steps into the moonlight and I
realize who it is.
  

Dare.
 

Because
he lives here now.
 

“Hey,” he greets me, his voice husky and
soft and British. There is welcome in his eyes, and a sincere appreciation for
how I look, a hungry expression, as his gaze flits over me.
 
It makes the blood flush through my
cheeks and my chest.
 
He likes what
he sees.

I swallow hard.
 

“Are you all right?” he asks, his head
cocked and his eyes glinting in the moonlight.
 
“I couldn’t help but notice that you ran
down the mountain.”

God.
 
I want to sink into the sand.
 
I must look like a crazy person.

“I’m fine,” I tell him.
 
“I just… my brother upset me and I needed
a minute to breathe.”

“And when you’re upset you run down to
the beach in the dark?
 
Alone?” Dare
cocks his head again and I’m not sure if he’s judging me. I look away.
 

“No.
 
I just… my favorite place is down here.
 
I come here a lot. Not just when I’m
upset.”

“Show me.”
 
Dare’s voice is husky and soft, and it
isn’t a request.
 
“Your favorite
place, I mean.”

I don’t hesitate.
 
I don’t know why.
 
Maybe because he’s been in my dreams so
often, it’s like I know him already.

“Ok.”

I lead him along the beach another
hundred feet or so, through the rocks and into a secluded inlet.
 
Hidden by the night, a
horse-shoe
shaped cove waits for us in the dark.
 

“Watch where you step,” I tell him,
although I know it’s hard to see.
 
“This cove is covered in tidal pools.
 
Actually, wait here for a minute.”

I reluctantly let go of his arm and
venture away to find a few pieces of smallish driftwood.
 
I lug it back to the cove and hunt for a
canvas bag that I keep here for just these occasions. It’s not under the rock I
usually keep it under, so I nose around for a while longer, until Dare calls
out.
 

“Looking for this?” he holds it up. I
nod, taking it from him.
 

“Yeah. Thanks.”
 
Pulling the lighter from the bag, I set
the wood ablaze.

It instantly fills the inlet with an
ethereal violet light.

Dare stares at it, mesmerized. “It’s
purple.”

“It’s the salt from the ocean,” I
explain.
 
“It makes the flames
purple and blue.
 
But don’t breathe
in the smoke.
 
It’s gorgeous, but
toxic.”

“So look, don’t breathe?” Dare looks
amused.
 

I nod.
 
“Exactly.
 
Instead of breathing the smoke, why
don’t you turn around and look at the cove?”

He does as I ask and I can see on his
face that he’s impressed.
 
Small
pools are scattered around us, with sea life in each one, plants and shells,
crabs and seaweed. Everything seems magical, as the night glows violet.

“During high tide, these are covered
up.
 
In fact, you can’t get to the
back of the cove.
 
But during low
tide, the water is sucked out and you can walk right in and look at everything
the water covers up.”

“This is incredible,”
Dare
decides, walking around and examining everything.
 
“No wonder it’s your favorite place.”
 
He moves lithely, casually.
 
Easily.
 

In fact, being with him is easy.
 
As each moment passes, I feel less
panicked and terrified about Finn, and more comfortable with Dare.
 

Even though he’s clearly sophisticated,
he’s still as comfortable as my favorite pair of jeans.
 
It’s like…he doesn’t judge me. He
doesn’t ridicule me. He simply accepts things as I offer them and doesn’t push
me for more.
 

While he kneels to examine a pool, I examine
him.
 
He’s wearing dark clothes
tonight, dark jeans and a black hoodie.
 
The graceful way he moves makes even a hoodie seem elegant.
 
He’s graceful and refined, nothing like
the boys were in school.

It’s refreshing.
 
And
knee-weakening
.
 

He turns to me, his gaze dark and
curious.
 

“How did your brother upset you?”

The panic comes back to me in a rush, and
for a minute, I stare past Dare, out to sea.
 

“We’re twins. He wants to go to a
different college, but I don’t agree.
 
He needs me.”

Dare stares at me, trying to figure me
out.
 
I see the wheels turning.
 
He opens his mouth, but I interrupt
before he can say anything.
 

“You don’t understand,” I tell him
preemptively.
 
“My brother has an
issue.
 
A mental
issue.
 
He’s medicated, but
he needs me.”

If I meant to scare him, and I don’t know
if I did or didn’t, it doesn’t work.
 
Because Dare just nods, unfazed.
 
“That’s commendable,” he tells me.
 
“That you care so much.”

My head snaps back.
 
“Of course I do,” I snap. “Why wouldn’t
I? He’s my brother.”

Dare smiles and holds up his hands.
 
“Calm down,” he says soothingly. “I was
just making an observation.
 
Not
everyone cares that much, family or not.”

I stare at him.
 
“That’s a sad thought.
 
Why are you out here anyway?
 
In the dark?
 
Alone?”
 
I throw his words from earlier back at
him in an effort to change the subject.
 
He smiles in appreciation of my effort.
 

“Because I was bored.
 
And I thought I could see the stars
better from here.”

He’s right.
 
We definitely can.
 
Up on the mountain, the trees block
them.
 

And he likes the stars?
 
Is it possible for him to get more
perfect?

He points upward.

“That’s Orion’s belt.
 
And that over there….
That’s Andromeda.
 
I don’t think we
can see Perseus tonight.” He pauses and stares down at me. “Do you know their
myth?”

His voice is calm and soothing and as I
listen to him, I let myself drift away from my current problems and toward him,
toward his dark eyes and full lips and long hands.
 

I nod, remembering what I’d learned about
Andromeda last year in Astrology.
 
“Yes.
 
Andromeda’s mother
insulted Poseidon, and she was condemned to die by a sea monster, but Perseus
saved her and then married her.”

He nods, pleased by my answer.
 
“Yes. And now they linger in the skies
to remind young lovers everywhere of the merits of undying love.”

I snort.
 
“Yeah.
 
And then they had a corny movie made for
them that managed to butcher several different Greek myths at once.”

Dare’s lip twitches. “Perhaps. But maybe
we can overlook that due to the underlying message of eternal love.”
 
His expression is droll and I can’t
decide if he’s being serious or just trying to be ironic or something, because
the irony is lost on you.

“That’s bullshit, you know,” I tell him,
rolling the metaphorical dice.
 
“Undying
love, I mean.
 
Nothing is undying. People
fall out of love or their chemistry dies or maybe they even die themselves.
 
Any way you look at it, love always dies
eventually.”

I
should know. I’m Funeral Home Girl. I see it all the time.
 
  

Dare looks down at me incredulously.
 
“If you truly believe that, then you
believe that death controls us, or maybe even circumstance. That’s depressing,
Calla. We control ourselves.”

He seems truly bothered and I stare at
him, at once nervous that I’ve disappointed him and certain that I’m right.

I
am
the one surrounded by it all the time, after all…by death and bad
circumstances. I
am
the one whose
mother just died and I know that the world continues to turn like nothing ever
happened.

“I don’t necessarily believe that death
controls us,” I amend carefully. “But you can’t argue that it wins in the long
run.
 
Every time.
 
Because we all die,
Dare
.
 
So death wins, not love.”

He snorts.
 
“Tell that to Perseus and Andromeda.
They’re immortal in the sky.”

I snort right back.
 
“They’re also not real.”

Dare stares at me, willing me to see his
point of view and I’m suddenly confused about how we started out talking about
love and are now talking about death. Leave it to me to work that into
conversation.