“The lengths you’re going to keep me at bay. I know you want me, and I know that terrifies you. You think that Bay will save you from me, but the thing is, maybe you don’t want to be saved.”
“You’re the ridiculous one,” I retort. “You know how I feel about…”
“Oh, yes, the handsome Sage. What did that fairy do to make your wings flutter for him and him alone? He take your virginity or something? Why doesn’t he just accept your love already?”
“I… I would rather not talk about him,” I say stiffly.
“Why not? You know what? I don’t want to talk about him either. You wanted Bay to know about my parents, but again, I think you’re just using her—”
“I am not!” I say hotly.
"Subconsciously then," he challenges. "If you want to know about my—what was it?—hopes and dreams, then ask."
“I’d rather watch grass grow.”
“Ouch. You really know how to wound a guy.”
“Speaking of wounding, maybe I’ll ask our professor if I can duel against you.” I can’t help smirking.
“See? I knew there was some darkness lurking inside of you.” He winks at me.
How can his oh so dark eyes sparkle like that? It’s unnerving and mesmerizing, and I do not want to be lost in a trance by them.
“You’re doing that thing again,” I say crossly.
“What thing?” he asks.
“With your eyes.” I refuse to look at him and dig into my meal.
He chuckles. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Must be a demon thing,” I mumble.
Damon goes still, and I risk peeking at him. He looks hurt, wounded even, and I feel bad.
“I won’t make any more comments like that,” I promise in a rush.
“No. I would rather you speak your mind. Either you can accept me for who I am, or you can’t, but I’m just trying to do you a favor, Rosemary.”
“And what’s that?”
“You don’t know who you are,” he claims, so close to the mark that I flinch. “You don’t appreciate the jokes about you being so damn light, but you also don’t want to admit to yourself that you’re drawn a little to the dark. That’s not a bad thing. Fairies can be both. Why do you seem to both court darkness but also push it away?”
“I…”
“I heard about last year and all of that.”
“And—”
“And your nickname,” he continues.
“How do you know so much about me? Stalker much?”
A slow, teasing grin settles across his face, and I hate that he's so damn sexy. "You wish I would stalk you."
“That’s disturbing.”
“You’re the one obsessed with me.”
“Hardly.” I snort.
“You’re adorable, you know that?”
“You only like me because I’m not fawning all over you.”
“Or maybe because I thought you would be willing to see through to who I am and accept me. So many are either afraid of me or think I’m something I’m not or want to use me, and I’m sick of it.” He tosses his grapes aside and stands.
“You aren’t done eating.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Damon…”
“Don’t toy with me, Rosemary.”
“I want us to be friends.”
“Do you?” he asks coolly. “Because I’m not altogether certain you know what you want. Maybe you should stop thinking so much, get out of your head, and start feeling more and stick to your heart.”
With a wave of his hand, he cleans everything up, and his tray trails behind him as he flies off, leaving me all alone and miserable.
That did not go as planned. Not at all.
Bay is just full of surprises that night because she’s waiting for me, sitting on the edge of my bed when I arrive.
“What is it?” I ask wearily as I flop beside her, lying down on the bed with my legs hanging over the side.
“Do you want to know what I think?” she asks.
“Doesn’t matter if I want to know or not. You’re going to tell me regardless.”
“That’s right.” She beams as she squeezes my knee. “I think Damon is the perfect way for you to get over Sage and move on.”
“You really hate Sage, don’t you?”
“He hurt you, and now, he’s stringing you along.”
“We’re friends,” I protest.
“But he knows you want more and won’t commit so…”
I say nothing.
Bay lies back and shifts onto her side to face me. “Why don’t you like Damon? He’s fucking hot. You could do a lot worse.”
“Being hot isn’t everything.”
“It certainly doesn’t hurt.”
I grimace.
“What’s wrong with him?” Bay demands, her voice rising. “You thought he was good enough for me but not good enough for you? Is that it?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. He… I don’t know. He reminds me of you, and I thought you two would get along, and… and…”
“And what?”
“Maybe it would be nice to at least make Sage think that I’m moving on,” I say slowly.
Bay grins. “Now you’re talking.”
“But I’m not going to use Damon,” I warn her.
“Are you telling me that or yourself?”
I swallow hard. “Do you know what Damon is?”
“I’ve heard the rumors.”
I shiver. “I can’t imagine what Mom and Dad will think if—”
“Don’t worry about them. They aren’t here, and they can’t live your life for you. You have to do that yourself. You have to be the one to determine what you want, who you want. You also don’t have to decide who you want for the rest of your life, just who you want right now. Tonight Damon. This week Damon. Maybe Sage the week after. Maybe someone else entirely. Just open your eyes and open your heart, okay?”
I shake my head. “How did you get to be so wise?”
A pillow slams into my face.
“Hey!”
A full-fledged pillow fight breaks out, and it's ridiculous and hilarious and precisely what I need to get my mind off my worries about Bay and my dilemma with the guys. For a long while now, I figured Sage was the fairy of my dreams, but who knows? Maybe it's Damon, or maybe it's a fairy I haven't even met yet. Time will tell, and for now, it's not as if there's a timer winding down toward zero anytime soon.
Chapter 12
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Damon.
He flashes me a lopsided, sexy smile. “I’ve never been more sure.”
“Liar.”
Damon chuckles. “Does it bother you that I can and you can’t?”
“Lie? Why would I want to lie?”
“If your sister ever had a bad haircut. Do you want to tell her a lie and say it looks great or tell her the truth and hurt her feelings?”
“Considering that if I could tell a lie, I think my face would give me away so…”
He laughs. “You are a bit of an easy read.”
“Hey!”
“Don’t complain,” he murmurs in my ear. “I didn’t say you were easy.”
I shiver. I’ve been doing that a lot these past two weeks. Damon and I have started to spend a lot of time together for the duration, and I can’t say that it hasn’t been fun. It’s been… different, to say the least. We’ve sneaked off campus to go to restaurants. Once, we raced each other to see who could last longer on a flight up to touch the moon. Of course we can’t get anywhere near the moon because the atmosphere becomes too cold and the air too thin for us to breathe. He won, by the way, which didn’t surprise me at all and didn’t stop me from going all out anyhow.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
He chuckles. “Relax. You’re too uptight.”
“This isn’t exactly comfortable.” I try not to move
my wings, but it’s hard.
“Stop fidgeting,” he scolds before rubbing his hands together with glee. “This is going to be amazing.”
“That’s one word for it,” I mumble.
“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?”
“No.” I lift my chin and eye him. “Anything you can do, I can do.”
He winks. “Good. Earn your nickname.”
I scowl and glance away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy his own scowl.
“Only he can call you that, huh?” he asks, his tone disgusted.
To change the subject, I admit, “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“I didn’t,” he boasts. “I told you what I wanted to do.”
“I meant to just observe,” I wail.
“That’s not exactly what you said earlier.”
I bite my lower lip as he spins around to stand in front of me, directly in front of me, so close that the lengths of our bodies are touching. My wings flutter as hard as they can against the restraints holding them down flat against my back. They’re fluttering almost as swiftly as my heart is beating.
“It’s not too late to back down,” he murmurs. “I won’t think less of—”
“If you’re going to jump out of a plane and use a parachute instead of your wings and pretend you’re a human, I’m going to too,” I say stubbornly.
“Don’t say that I didn’t give you the chance to back out.”
“I won’t need to say that.”
He gives me the once-over and then nods. Swiftly, he heads toward the pilot in the tiny plane. “We high enough up yet?”
“You two can jump at any time,” the pilot says in a flat, monotone voice.
He’s been mesmerized or enchanted, something. Damon did something to the human so that he’ll fly us and not remember anything about it. I’d have to wager he might’ve convinced the man we paid him even though we didn’t. I’m not sure how much of this particular skill of his is fae versus demon. Some fairies can persuade humans to do their bidding, but it usually involved fae food or drink.
Damon and I walk to the closed door. I hold onto the railing tightly as Damon opens it. To my surprise, he holds out his hand.
What? No way am I going to hold his hand. That would mean I’ll only have one to yank my parachute string thingy with, and I’m going to yank it as hard as I can with both hands.
With a teasing smirk, a wink, and a salute, Damon faces me and then falls backward, diving out of the plane. My heart leaps into my throat as I grip the railing, leaning forward to watch him fall. He looks almost suspended, like he’s not even falling at all. Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe it’ll be fun.
A few deep breaths and I go to jump. Only I can’t. I release the railing and then grab it again.
Come on, Rosemary. You can do this.
Deep down, I know I don’t have to. I know I can say no.
But I want to.
I close my eyes and inch my feet to the ledge and then take a big step.
And fall…
Fall…
Fall…
The air rushes up against my face so hard that my cheeks blubber. I’ve never experienced anything quite like this, not even when I fly at top speed. There’s a gracefulness about flying with wings.
This isn’t flying. This is falling, and it’s terrifying.
We’re so high up that everything far beneath us looks so very tiny, but with every passing second, the ground rises up, looming larger. I can pick out details I couldn’t a few seconds ago, and it’s time, isn’t it? I think it’s time. Yes, it has to be. Damon’s parachute just released. Time for me to yank on my strap.
I do that. With both hands. As hard as I can.
Nothing happens.
Panic starts to creep in, but I refuse to give in to that terrifying emotion. I squeeze my eyes shut and yank again.
Still nothing.
My eyes fly open, and I yank with one hand, the other both.
And the cord rips out, staying in my hand.
The parachute never releases.
I’m falling even faster now, and I shoot past Damon on my way down. I think he might say something, but I can’t hear him over the roar of the wind created from my downdraft. Oh, and I might be screaming my head off too. I’m not sure. If I am, I can’t even hear that.
My wings. I have to get them free somehow. I struggle and strain, and it’s no use. Damon knows how to tie a knot. He told me that he’s had a lot of practice with them, and I got the feeling he might’ve gained that experience from tying girls to beds. Willingly. As if they like giving up control. I’m not sure I like that. No, I know I don’t like that because I am falling out of control if I can’t just break free!
Something inside me snaps, and one of my wings tears, but I'm free, and I'm falling still, but now I'm hovering and flying some, a bit lopsided. Tears stream down my face, and suddenly, I'm whisked down to the ground in Damon's arms. His parachute is fluttering to the ground, no longer attached to his back, his own wings out. They seem to be perfectly fine, and I feel something cold and metal against my elbow as he cradles me and carries me down to the ground.
“You’re a fighter, you know that?” he asks as he slowly shifts me to standing. “A real warrior.”
I snort and wipe away my tears, embarrassed to be crying, but there’s no pain like an injured wing, and I tried to fly on mine.
“Let me look you over,” he murmurs his voice soft, his touch even softer, but I still flinch.
“Can you heal it?” I ask.
“I’m not that good at healing,” he mumbles.
My eyes widen, and I latch onto this realization to forget all about the pain I’m in. “Can you not heal because of your other side?”
“I don’t have a fae side and a demon side,” he says dryly. “We’re going to have to have you checked out at the—”
“No,” I say stubbornly.
“Rosemary, Warrior Babe, you’re hurt.”
“Warrior Babe?”
He cups my cheek. “Don’t tell me he’s the only one allowed to give you a nickname.”
I stare up at him and do my best to ignore a wave of dizziness. My heart is still beating a mile a minute, and I’m in so much pain that I think I might be sick.
“Look for dragon’s breath, rose thorns, and jaded apple’s delight,” I murmur.
He doesn't question me and, in no time at all, brings me the requested items.
“Crush the thorns,” I murmur as I retrieve an empty vial from my pocket.
He accepts the vial with a grin despite his creased, furrowed brow. “You carry vials on you? What other strange habits do you have?”
“My mom sells potions for a living.”
“You’re going to teach me a healing potion?” he asks incredulously.
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I just… What if I screw it up?”
“I’ve already screwed up by doing this reckless and dangerous stunt.” I close my eyes and do my best to remain balanced and on my feet. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You can—”
“No.” I open my eyes and then shut them again. “I’m seeing double,” I mumble.
“All right. Rose thorns are all crushed. Now what?”
“Rip off the tip of the dragon’s breath, the white parts. Add all of that and then just a pinch of the red.”
“A pinch? That’s not exactly a precise measurement.”
“Just a pinch,” I murmur, swaying.
“Here.” Damon gently eases me down to sit. “Is that better?”
I lower my head between my knees, inhale a few times, and stare up at him, eyes open. “A little.”
He works a bit. My vision isn’t quite cleared up yet, but I can see and even feel his nervous energy.
“Okay. I hope that’s not too much or too little, but… What about the jaded apple’s delight?”
“Two drops of its nec
tar. That’s all you need.”
“I don’t know why it’s called—oh. The nectar smells like apples.”
I grin. “Swirl it all together and then hand it to me.”
“It just looks like the ingredients. It’s not a potion,” he protests.
“Swirl it some more.”
“How long?”
“Until—”
“Oh,” he breathes.
I fix my stare on the vial. The healing potion is a dark blue, which means he added a hefty punch of the red dragon's breath. That should make it more potent of a healing potion, but it might also lower my inhibitions some.
I glance at Damon. He lowers my inhibitions some, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.
“What if I did something wrong?” he asks.
Too late. I’m already drinking it. I swallow the last drop and lick my lips.
“Well?” he demands, hovering over me. “I’ll carry you right over to the—”
I touch his lips. “Do you ever shut up?”
My wings flutter as I giggle.
He gapes at me, and then a slow smile spreads across his face. “I thought I would want to hear you scream, and I do want to hear that from you, but now with a stipulation. I don’t want you to scream from fright or pain. Well, maybe the good kind of pain.”
“There’s a good kind of pain?”
“You have no idea.” He cups my cheek. “The only other thing I want to hear you scream is my name.”
“As a warning to stop you from doing something dangerous and daring. Check.”
His smile stretches even wider now. “Are you that naïve?”
I just shrug one shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Damon leans down as if he’s going to kiss me, but all he does is bump our noses. It’s surprisingly sweet and tender, and I place a hand on his chest. I’m not even sure why. His heart is racing.
“Adrenaline junkie,” I tease.
“Sure, that’s what it’s from.”
My eyebrows lift.
He just shakes his head and takes a step back. “You don’t get me at all, do you?”
“I… could.”
“But you don’t want to. Too scared you’ll like the dark side? If there’s one thing about demons, they like to have fun.”
“And do crazy stunts that almost kill people.”
Light Fae Academy: Year Two Page 6
