But a different fire lit inside her tonight. One that wanted to win.
Her opponent waiting across was a magician she didn’t recognize. A young grin on an older face, with sheared-short hair that faded to dusky rose. When he cleared his throat, all to cover a laugh, it felt all too familiar. Exactly how the contestants from Spectaculore had regarded her at first glance—a joke meant to be humored, then swiftly crushed.
If they wanted a laugh, she would give them one.
The rule decreed between them was nothing containing the color green. A simple enough rule for a first duel, and one she was confident she could follow.
When the attendant threw the anchor between them, Kallia’s opponent acted first. The plain rubber ball between them stretched and exploded out into a boulder large as a table, which shattered into sharp pieces aimed at Kallia.
As the wave of needles and splinters surged for her, she breathed and fought back all reaction to hit back just as hard.
Focus.
Vain, clear in her ears.
Kallia’s first instinct was to cast a grander trick. But grander wasn’t always smarter. However loud or large an attack might be, what mattered most was its landing.
Instead, she split the pieces of rock further and melted them into rain.
The crowd vanished from her periphery; her hold on the rain was tenuous enough but not obscenely difficult to conjure. An illusion was fueled as much by imagination as it was by memory. She knew rain, and the way it could fall as she guided the storm over to her opponent’s end. His move now.
Noise, Vain had emphasized. Everyone attacks with a rhythm. Disrupt it.
When the magician sent back shards of ice, Kallia widened the breadth of her hands, the ice forming bigger like blocks of glass. One by one, Kallia sent them down in bone-wrenching shatters.
His confused wince was as good as a winning point. He blinked rapidly, trick after trick flying fast behind his eyes. Just before glass crashed in front of his very feet, he managed to conjure something different out of the shatters.
A wave of sand emerged from the grains of ice, swirling toward Kallia as if on the path of a windstorm.
The magician makes the magic.
Kallia listened, gathering the sand to fuel the picture in her head as she pushed the stream back his way. Her opponent’s features tightened in concentration, ready for any eruption.
Not the damp, chunky soil that splattered on his face.
Laughter rang, but she barely heard it. She only saw her opponent muttering a curse under his breath before a large plant erupted to the surface like a creature from the sea, a green, closed bud the size of a large dog opening its petals like jaws—
“Broken rule,” the attendant announced with finality. And a salute toward the Diamond Rings’ side. “Victory to Kallia.”
Cheers exploded around her. Mouths hung in surprise, screams pierced the air.
But she heard nothing once she caught sight of Demarco again, watching on the sidelines of it all.
For the first time, she didn’t care if she’d won or lost. It had all become noise, the moment she saw him.
Until more screams shattered the air all around her.
Kallia frowned at the smell of smoke before her mouth dropped at the ceiling lost in flames. They caught the hanging silks and ran rapidly down the cloths, sending aerialists jumping over magicians breaking their fall. The fire moved fast, unnaturally so, that it might have been mistaken as a spectacle on the itinerary were it not for the sheer panic breaking over the court as people ran once the ceiling began dripping flames over guests, setting costumes ablaze.
One moment, nothing. And the next, absolute chaos.
Malice ripped out a high-pitched wail, while Vain wore a convincing mask of fear as they stuck close together through the stampede. Headliners rose, throwing every force against the ceiling, but the fire would not die. And it could not be stopped.
Madness took over. The floors shook as magicians ducked for cover or ran for the doors in a large desperate, writhing mass trying to squeeze through the way out.
Kallia lost the others instantly. True panic set in with every elbow and shove that pushed her deeper into the fold, unable to see anything at all but smoke and tears and burnt fabrics smashed against her face. When she finally managed to squeeze through the doors leading out of the Alastor Place, she gulped in the fresh air, desperate for it.
Curses and cries were scattered over the gathering watching the Alastor Place fall. Some faces were frozen in shock, for nothing had ever touched their perfect little world like this. And more looked fascinated for that very same reason.
Kallia had to find the others. When she finally got her bearings, she stumbled away from the audience of this new show, down a quieter bit of street. She had to get away, plot her next move. Find the others without—
A hand grasped her arm and pulled her into the shadows between buildings. Someone. In the dark, her eyes adjusted. Her breaths panting against his as he leaned into her. Warm as the day, silent as a shadow.
Kallia pressed back into the wall. Her heart pounded deep in her chest at that glint of a bronze mask. And Demarco’s face, still beneath it. “Who are you?” she demanded. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
The words came out harsh and rough, ignoring that pain cutting her to the core.
She knew, without his answer.
Just because it couldn’t be did not make it untrue.
Wasting no more time, he kissed her.
33
He had so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell her. He meant to recite all the lines he’d practiced in his head for this exact moment.
And yet when she looked up at him, it was nothing like what he’d envisioned. No teary smiles or gasps of relief. No warmth of reunion. Just hard eyes and a sharp scowl, the mask hiding all her fears and doubts and secrets kept so closely guarded inside her.
It undid him completely.
This was real.
Finally.
His heartbeat thrummed with the word. With the feel of her against him, her scent surrounding him. He almost dropped to his knees from the relief, to sense something inside click back into place after so long.
Ice filled him when he realized she was not moving at all, stiff as a held breath.
Fuck.
He began pulling away, the adrenaline fading to embarrassment, but she dug her fingers painfully into his suit and crushed her lips back to his with the hitch of her breath. A happy sound, a sad one, as she slanted her lips over his and explored in deep, long strokes, absorbing the deep groan that rose in his throat, the moan in hers.
This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real.
This couldn’t be real.
Just like the first time, how simply it had happened. No grand spectacles or desperate measures, but a moment where the world fell away, where it was just them. And it was real.
When he cupped the side of her face, it was wet. He drew back to look at her, the slide of tears over the red jewels pressed to her skin, framing her face like a constellation he couldn’t stop tracing. The same red that matched her lips, smudged at the edges. No doubt, on his as well.
She fingered the edge of his mask, prying it off gently until his entire face was laid bare. A shudder went through her, through him, at the press of her fingers through his hair, trailing down to his jaw, stopping at the space beneath his mouth.
“Is this real?” she whispered, the exact words he’d said before. He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice, new words to his ears. Not from fragments of the past. Not from dreams.
Here.
“Wait,” he bit out as he flinched back, burning inside.
How could he have forgotten?
“I shouldn’t,” he said, swallowing hard. That impulse driving him forward died in his veins. “My magic and yours…”
He couldn’t.
Sorry would never be enough to undo all that had happened.
Her gaze fell, but her hand stayed right against his chest. His heart. “It’s still not fully returned. I’m working on that,” she said quietly. “But it will come back. Eventually.”
Eventually. That hope in her voice, however small, lived. But he was the reason it had become so small in the first place, and nothing sickened him more.
“I’m sorry,” Daron said, shaking. “For hurting you. For everything.”
He didn’t go on to say he didn’t know. Or that it was some side effect of his powers he’d had no clue about. None of it made any difference now. The damage was done, and words would not fix them.
“You didn’t know. I see that now, but it doesn’t matter.” She ended it, her tone soft yet detached. Never one to dwell on hurt, as she kept an alert watch on the opening of the alleyway behind them. “I don’t know where to begin … what are you even doing here?”
Before he could answer, a curse flew under her breath.
And she grabbed him hard by the lapels, yanking him close. Reflex took over as his palm hit the wall, steadying them from crashing to the ground with little to no space between them.
The proximity left him dizzy. His eyelids drifted downward once he caught her gaze on his lips—before she craned a look past his shoulder. Movement. A few staggering shadows that passed from behind.
“No one can see us together.” Her breath a mere whisper, she pushed him back slightly once the footsteps had faded. “They know too much.”
Compared to when they first crashed into each other, the distance now struck like whiplash. His face remained hot. His lips were still raw from hers. And she couldn’t even stare him in the eye for longer than a few seconds before letting go of his jacket with a curious expression. “How did you even get that outfit for tonight?”
Everything on him seemed to tighten instantly. He loosened the buttons by his neck. “I’ve had help.”
It was a generous word to pair Herald with. Even Kallia raised a dubious brow. “You can’t trust any help that’s offered here. Nothing comes without strings.”
“That, I know.” Far too well. “Herald’s been a bastard since the moment he—”
“Herald?” The cords of her neck popped out. “How the hell did you end up with the likes of him?”
Any warmth from before was gone. Just ice between them now. The longer it froze, the more it clawed inside Daron. This moment had been inevitable, and he still wasn’t sure how to tell her the truth of it all, how his arrival came through the machinations of others. For her.
The shame still burned, that he’d played into it all too well. Ever the fool, falling for the breadcrumbs that guided him to the trap. They couldn’t have selected a better target to beckon from this side of the mirror.
And now, there was no going back. No safe way of going anywhere from here. But he moved forward to finally find her, once and for all. So they could figure out that next step. Together.
None of this was unfolding how he’d hoped.
“How?” Kallia pressed harder. “You falling right into Herald’s path seems a little too convenient, if you ask me.”
“Convenient?” A harsh sound splintered off the back of his throat. “There’s nothing convenient about the way I got here.”
He still shivered every time he thought about the Dire Woods, those nightmares taking life behind his eyes. It felt like an eternity walking through it all, and he knew for the rest of his life he would never drive through its paths ever again without shaking. He’d remember what awaited him behind every tree, between every finger of those skeletal branches.
That was, if they were able to return at all.
“Then how?” Kallia leaned back into the wall, fingers pressed against the jewels lining her temples. “We all fall through the cracks of the mirror, that’s norm–”
“I walked through the Dire Woods.”
For you.
Her eyes fastened on him and stayed, unblinking. Either shining from the sliver of light hitting her lashes, or something glistening deep in her eyes.
His heart remained quiet as stone in his chest. “I walked through the Dire Woods. And saw things I will never forget. A darkness tailored specifically for me, nightmares each step of the way, until the world became—”
“No.” Kallia shook her head, blinking furiously. “Those woods don’t lead here. That can’t … that’s impossible.”
“Why the hell would I lie about this, Kallia?” Rage tinted his vision red. He would’ve preferred her indifference to this—absolute distrust in everything he said. He’d been on this tightrope with her before, and returning was like meeting as strangers again. “I only ended up in those woods because we’ve all been searching for weeks, just for any sign of you. How could you think I would ever lie about that?”
Her hard silence stoked the flames even more in his blood. He’d searched too hard for this to be the end. They all had. “You think I would make up how none of us stopped looking for you ever since that night?”
“Stop,” she croaked.
“Or how we all nearly set the whole city on fire, because it was our last resort? Aaros and Canary and Lottie, we all—”
“Demarco. Stop.” Her glare slitted to knives, stabbing deep. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
“And I don’t want to fight with you anymore!” His voice cracked beneath every wasted word and breath raked in. This wasn’t the first time they’d argued. Since he first met Kallia, they’d fought countless times. Behind closed doors and out in public, but always ending on an open note. The promise of more to come, the next time they met.
The girl before him was closed as a cage keeping all the world out. Though nothing troubled him more than the razor edge of her laugh that fell at the slow shake of her head.
“Zarose, of course. I should’ve known.” Under a dark, seething breath, Kallia swore. Shot a quick glance over her shoulder, the opening clear of any stragglers. “I know exactly how Herald scooped you up, and why,” she snarled. “You’re the one who’s here to help me.”
Only she could make that sound like a bad thing. “Help you with what?”
“Opening the gate. Breaking it.”
Everything inside went cold. Herald had failed to mention that. All of Aunt Cata’s words about Zarose Gate that had long since quieted now surged back—the violence, the destruction, the uncertainty it delivered. “Wait, why you?” he demanded, his pulse racing faster. “Kallia, you can’t—”
“Apparently I can, because I’m an Alastor,” she muttered unenthusiastically, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “There was never a guarantee before, as it’s never been done and I could use that. But now…”
The confirmation of Kallia’s family, straight from her own lips, shook him to the core. So Herald hadn’t lied about it all.
A passing tidal wave of shouts and hollers drowned out whatever she’d meant to say next. No desperate screams from the party anymore, at the very least. Still, when Daron positioned himself subtly like a shield around her, that crumpled expression bordering on sickness stayed on her face. Until eventually, it seeped into him, too.
“I’m sorry,” Daron whispered. The heaviness of the word carried all the apologies he owed her and every promise he’d made, to never hurt her again as he had in the past.
Already, he’d broken it. All in his attempt to fix what he could, to heal this.
Fingers curled against his shoulder, Kallia closed her eyes before firmly pushing him away. “I-I have to go.”
“Why?” His chest seized, hollow all of a sudden as she turned. Until he tried taking her hand. “Please, wait.”
The last thing he wanted was for her to leave, uncertain of when he would see her again.
Just as their fingers grazed, Kallia edged out of reach. “It’s still not safe for us to be seen together,” she said. “I’ll … I’ll try setting up somewhere for you, somewhere safe to stay, just until we can—”
“Stealing my tenant, showgirl?”
They jerked at the casual footsteps nearing them from the opposite direction down the alleyway. Nothing but shadow at first, before the broad outline of a figure drew closer—and Herald came fully into view, casually straightening his glasses over his nose. Oblivious to the tension, or possibly relishing it.
“Well aren’t you two the picture of happiness,” he noted sourly. “Found everything you were looking for, Demarco?”
The magician’s presence struck a match in Kallia, who charged right up to him like a bull breathing fire. “I told you what would happen if you messed with me,” she seethed. “I’m going to destroy you.”
Whatever history these two had, it was not kind. Kallia rarely ever unleashed the full lash of her wrath; to his credit, Herald’s sneer hardly faltered in the face of it. “You could do that,” he drawled. “Or, you could take up my offer to Demarco instead, for another cozy stay in my shop—”
“And you just happened to be walking by at this exact moment to do so.” Daron rolled his eyes. “What are you really on about? You finished your job, so we’re done.”
“Not yet, brother.” Conjuring a silk cloth between his fingers, Herald began wiping at his flashy glasses. “The Dealer is not pleased with how tonight’s festivities went. So outraged, I barely got a word in edgewise. His devils had to drag him away, just to cool off. Figure out what happened, how to make up for a lost night.” He sighed. “So, alas. New orders, new job.”
“What job?” Daron demanded, just as Kallia uttered, “What plan?”
“For now, that’s between the Dealer and me.” Herald smiled down at his cleaned glasses. “Not that there’s any other option, showgirl. You’ve all got your plate full and more than enough spectators already.”
The Show of Hands continuing on after chaos like tonight’s didn’t shock Daron in the slightest. This industry never changed, not even on different sides. First Spectaculore, now here. The world could be burning right at their feet—but as long as the stage stood, the show would go on. Disaster was no excuse, and certainly no reason to stop.
Kallia glowered. “Is that a threat?”
“Some friendly advice.” Herald inspected his nails. “If it’s Roth’s word, it goes. Unless you want us all to take a walk outside this city together.”
When Night Breaks Page 34
