by Gina Sturino
“Neal, you’ve lost your way. If you don’t change, there will be no going back. Eventually, you’ll face the consequences.” Dane’s voice was soft, but his warning was loud and clear.
“It’s too late; I’m already paying the price. I don’t know how to right any of my wrongs,” Neal confessed.
“Let me help you,” Dane said earnestly.
“Why would you help me?” Neal asked. “Oh, silly question. You really do love her, don’t you?”
My heart stopped, and my breath hitched, causing a small gasp to slip through my parted lips. The slight sound echoed against the hallway walls, and while I hoped against all hope it went unheard, the footsteps careening toward the door said otherwise. I jumped from my hunched position, and my hands flew to cover my mouth. The door swooshed open.
“Novalee?” Neal asked, staring down at me.
Certain my cheeks had turned a flaming shade of red, I swiftly averted my eyes, staring at my feet, focusing on the chip on my polished big toe. Man, I need a pedicure. Then I giggled, because in that instant, with the heavy conversation I’d just overheard and the immense decision looming, I could only focus on chipped red paint.
“Ah, come in,” Neal spoke again, pushing the door open wider.
My eyes lifted, momentarily meeting Dane’s before shifting to Neal. I turned toward Neal, stammering, “I want to help you. I want to take away your pain, like I did when we were young. Even if my memories are skewed, I know I can help.”
“Is that what’s holding you back? You want to help me? Absorb my pain again? Nothing can fill that hole. Only her. Only Cece.”
“Cece?” I hesitated. “What does she have to do with this?”
Then I remembered. The man Celia had run off with… Neal.
Looking at Neal’s heartbroken face, feeling his saddened soul, I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and take it all away.
“Only Celia,” Neal whispered. “I’d give up everything for her, including my words, my voice.”
My heart flittered. For the second time that day, I heard a proclamation of a love so deep, they were each willing to forgo everything. Defy their fate. Buck their destiny.
Was I willing to do the same?
Neal’s brow knitted. “Nova, I’m no longer the person you once knew. I’ve changed, and so have you. But I can tell, I can feel your hesitation, your reservations, your pain. I can’t take anymore hurt; I have enough in my own heart. We’re all fighting our own personal battles. I can only answer for myself. I can’t be the reason you stay.”
Searching Neal’s face, mirroring emotions swelled in our eyes. My twin, my brother. At one time, I thought we’d shared a soul. Now he pled for me to save my own. A silent plea only I could hear.
Nodding my head, I embraced Neal.
Bits and pieces of him—snippets from our shared childhood—flashed between our connected skin. For a second, we were transported to our idyllic childhood, to a place that could only be described as nirvana. A world so serene, we had danced in the clouds and sang in the sun.
Neal’s hold tightened. He leaned into my ear, and whispered, “I want that for you.” As his arms fell away, I heard the gentle click of the door.
Dane, who promised he’d never walk away, left me for the second time that day.
Thirty-Two
“Stop!” I called. “Wait!”
I know Dane heard me; I could tell by the slight jerk of his shoulders and momentary pause in his pace, yet he continued walking further away. I kicked off my sandals by the sidewalk so I could maneuver through the sand easier.
Once I was within a couple feet of Dane, I yelled again, “Wait! You owe me, at the very least, an explanation!”
He stopped, but didn’t turn around. Still facing away, his back shuddered as he released an audible sigh.
“Can you answer one question?” I asked. When he didn’t move, I continued, “Is it true? Was I a mission?”
A few seconds passed. With his back still to me, Dane finally replied, “Does it matter?”
“No,” I whispered. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”
Turning to face me, Dane looked into my eyes, holding my gaze as he spoke. “I’m not a good person, Nova. I do things impulsively, selfishly. Maybe that’s what brought us together, nature’s way of showing you how deceitful and corrupt humanity truly is. It never should’ve gone as far as it did. I shouldn’t have let it.”
“Please, stop,” I implored as tears filled my eyes. “I don’t care if I was an assignment. I don’t care, because regardless of your intentions, my heart—”
“You can’t trust your heart!” he bellowed, and a crack of lightning shook the cloudless sky. We both looked up, then down, locking eyes. In a quieter tone, Dane continued, “Your destiny is much greater than human emotion. Aren’t I an example of that? Human emotion made me into a hunter.” Dane’s eyes hardened, and his focus shifted from my face up to the sky. A lone black cloud floated into view, as if summoned by Dane. “You’re here because you had unfinished business. Now you’ve found closure. You saw Neal. There’s nothing more for you here. It’s time for you to leave.”
“You walking away is not closure.”
“Don’t you understand? Haven’t I done my job, shown you the truth? Look around. Humanity is soiled. Why would you choose this ugly world?” As if proving his point, more dark clouds gathered, angrily churning in the sky. The wind picked up, swirling my hair around my cheeks like little whips.
“By accepting the bad, I’m getting the good too!” I stepped to him, flattening my palms against his chest. His heart pounded wildly under my fingers. “I choose both. Humanity and divinity. I’ll take the good and the bad. I choose you.”
“I’m not yours to choose,” Dane said coarsely. Rain began to fall from the sky. “You’re thinking with your heart instead of your head. Don’t you see how easily your heart is manipulated? You can’t trust it. How can you, when the one you gave it to is me? A hunter.”
“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re pushing me away. I know you’re lying. I know you want this too. I know because I feel it here,” I said, strumming my fingers against his chest. I studied Dane’s face. The clouds cast a haze over his head, hardening the edges of his formidable face. Shadows darkened his eyes. “I know what you’re doing, Dane, but stormy skies won’t scare me. I just want—”
“It doesn’t matter what you want!” he roared along with another crack of lightning. The ground shuddered from a roll of thunder.
“It’s my life!” I yelled. “It’s my choice!”
“I thought you were smarter than this, than all of this.” He took several steps back and opened his arms wide. The dark, dangerous edge he always held in check unleashed along with the sky. Rain pelted faster, harder. Dane’s eyes narrowed. The black of his pupils overtook his sky-blue irises. Now, I took a step back. “I wasn’t recruited into this position because the superiors saw something good and pure in me; they enlisted me so I could pay my penance. Being a hunter is brutal. It’s the price I am paying for sins of the past, for allowing my humanity to degrade my divinity. Is that the kind of man you want to give it all up for?”
Stalking closer, Dane didn’t allow time for me to answer. “My kind took your parents. Do you understand what that means, what happened to them? Their punishment? You should know, Nova. You of all people—a child torn from her mother, your parents ripped apart—that is the job of the hunter. That is the kind of man I am.”
Dane’s words stung like a slap to the face, but they also evoked a memory.
I never got to say goodbye. I’ll never see them again. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to calm the frantic thoughts. Images of inky black hair and blooming wildflowers danced in my head while a sweet, childish giggle sounded in my ears. I hope your homecoming brings you peace. It brought them peace. Arthur and Anya found closure.
My parents found closure. They found peace. The question was, had I?
Opening my eyes, I met Dane’s
stony gaze. “My life is finally my own. I get to make choices—where I go, what I do. I finally feel alive. And it’s partly because of you, the part of me that you brought to life. It’s my choice.”
Thunder grumbled over the beach, groaning along with Dane. He shook his head, and along with him, the sand beneath my toes trembled.
“It’s my choice,” I said again.
“You’re right. It is your choice, but it’s mine as well. And I’m choosing to walk away.” Dane spoke calmly. The ground went still. The rain stopped. He clenched his hands into fists, then he slowly splayed his fingers. “As we’ve learned, we all have some level of control over our fate.”
Tears slipped from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks and into the corner of my mouth. My hands reached for his, but he twisted them away. With my head shaking side-to-side, I whispered, “No.”
“I’m leaving, Nova.” Dane lifted his hands to brush away the wisps of hair that clung to my wet face. His thumbs stroked my cheeks. “If I don’t, every time I look at you, I’ll only see what you gave up. I can’t live with that, and I don’t think I want to. I’m no hero; I don’t have it in me.”
My head continued to bob back and forth. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “You can’t. You said—you said you’d never walk away.”
He cocked his head. “For the first time, possibly ever, I’m going to do the right thing. If you stay, it’ll be one more thing added to my long list of fuck-ups, one more thing for me to feel guilty about. I want you to choose the Kingdom. Choose perfection.” His voice lightened to a murmur. “I’ll be happy knowing what we had existed, that once upon a time a woman so good, so pure, loved me. That will be enough.”
“You can have more,” I whispered back. “We can have more.”
“Don’t you understand? I can’t have you, and I don’t want you!” I flinched from his sudden anger, and a gust of wind hit my cheeks, stinging along with his words.
“You love me. I know you love me.”
“I do,” he admitted solemnly. “And it’s because I love you, that I need to let you go.” He lifted a hand, hesitating before allowing his fingers to sweep down my face, settling his palm over my cheek. Silently studying my face, his eyes locked on mine.
We stood transfixed. Seconds turned to minutes. Time passed achingly slow. The air seemed paralyzed along with us. I was afraid to breath, afraid it would break the moment.
A rustling finally cut the silence. A lone black bird descended from the sky, swooping in a wide circle over us before perching on a rock several feet away.
Dane blinked, severing our connection. His hand dropped from my cheek. “I have to go. I have to let you go.” Without saying another word, he turned and walked away.
I watched his figure grow smaller and smaller as he slowly disappeared. Sobs wracked my body. I dropped to the coarse sand, burying my face into my knees, unable to watch the man I love walk away again.
Thirty-Three
Dane promised he’d never walk away, yet he’d done it so easily, without looking back.
Grief rolled over me in waves, like the ocean in the distance, threatening to consume me. I wanted to dive in, let the water sweep me away, wash me of my hurt. Countless minutes passed before I pulled myself upright, tucked my legs under my butt, and swiped the tears off my grimy face.
I felt Neal’s presence before I saw him, like a blanket sheltering my wrecked soul. I knew he’d come to help me process the pain. He settled into the sand beside me and held me for what seemed like forever. Finally, I sighed, leaned back, and rested my head against his arm.
“Novalee,” Neal said, stroking my hand. “You can make it go away. You won’t feel pain again.”
His words should have calmed me. Instead, anger bubbled in my core. “If you would’ve completed your mission, you also could make it go away,” I chided. It was childish and unfair, but of all people, Neal should understand.
He flinched and pulled back, dropping his chin to his chest. I placed my hand on his knee, and like osmosis, grief seeped into my skin. I gasped as I felt his heartbreak, the utter defeat that consumed my twin.
Inhaling, I reigned in our emotions. “Tell me about Celia. I haven’t seen her since I left the Hark. Cami’s frantic.”
“I couldn’t help it. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did it anyway. Lucille warned me, as if she knew I was destined to fail.”
“Fail?”
Neal stared out to the sea. The waves glistened like crystals under the sun. Even the wispy fog couldn’t diminish their light. Neal’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon. “Lucille warned us. You’ll be tempted, but profit and gain aren’t worth the forfeit of the soul. I didn’t listen.”
“Oh, Neal,” I whispered. “What happened?”
“I inherited our father’s gift. I’m a scribe for the walking gods. When we were sent from the Hark, I was to record a divine event, but instead of using my words as I should, I wrote the story I wanted. I used my words to bring Celia to me. Then I lost her, and I lost my voice. I can no longer write or read. I can only sing, and hope that one day she’ll hear my voice again.”
I blinked rapidly, realizing Neal hadn’t written in years because he couldn’t. He dug his feet into the sand. The heaviness of the past and the uncertainty of the future hung as thick as the fog over the sea.
“I’m sorry I held you back.” Neal sighed. “But I’m glad we get to say goodbye. You deserve peace, Novalee. You deserve the Kingdom.”
“I’m not ready to say goodbye,” I replied quietly.
“I don’t think anyone is ever ready for it. Sometimes there’s no choice.”
A light breeze blew across the sand. Neal and I sat side-by-side, leaning into one another, watching the cloudless sky slowly darken. I was running out of time.
“Can you sing for me?” I asked.
Neal gave a small, lopsided smile. “Yes, but then I have to go. You have to let me go. I’ve been living on borrowed time. When I saw those birds and that hun—when I saw Dane, I thought it was over. No more chances. I know I have to change.”
He squeezed my knee, then softly began to sing. “When the sea goes still, you’ll find me here, singing under a half moon bay. When the stars lose their shine, you’ll find me here, singing under a half moon bay. Singing a song so sweet, as sweet as the fruit, the fruit of the land. Singing a song so bright, as bright as the light, the light of the sky.”
The words Neal had written long ago told the story of my journey, and his lyrics became the map that led me back to him. His soothing voice melted away my sadness, lifted the weight of worry—the burden of my brother—and I knew, I knew, Neal would find his words again. His story wasn’t done.
“Don’t ever stop singing, Neal. When the world needs to hear you, they will,” I whispered, leaning in to hug him.
With tears streaming down our cheeks, we embraced for the last time. Pain and sorrow fell away. The burden of my brother was now replaced with hope as we both faced a new future.
Thirty-Four
The sun hung low, a glowing ember above the horizon, and Neal was long gone. Fresh tears formed as I looked out to sea. Saying goodbye to Neal left me with peace, but I hadn’t been afforded that opportunity with Dane.
He’d walked away. He promised he would never leave, yet he’d done it so easily. He made his choice, now I had to make mine.
“This should be easy,” I whispered, hoping by saying the words out loud they’d feel truer. Pushing from the sand, I walked toward the shoreline. “An easy decision.”
It should have been easy. It shouldn’t even be a question. But logical lawyer Nova was gone, and in her place was the girl who had fallen from innocence only to embrace the beauty of humanity—a different kind of beauty. The teenager who’d gotten a tattoo to symbolize a relationship that would come to define her existence. The woman who had struggled with good and bad, who made wrong decisions, but ultimately walked the righteous path.
As a child, I had experienced divine love.
Pure, bright, all-encompassing. It lifted the soul, fed the spirit. But to truly understand divine love, I needed to know the other kind. The messy, complicated kind that was both passionate and painful. Human love. Love driven by lust and desire. Love that was reckless. Love that destroyed with its impurities.
Love that was tainted but perfect in its own way.
The tide turned high. Waves rolled in and out, crashing and receding against my feet. Over and over. My heels sunk into the wet sand. The sea seemed to soak up my uncertainty, my hesitation, and the pain that saturated my soul, until I could clearly see the path my heart had chosen.
I lifted my heavy legs. Like concrete blocks that had anchored me in place, chunks of sand broke away and freed me from my chains. Calm flooded my veins.
Breathing in and out, the briny breeze filled my nostrils. Seawater brushed along my shins and caressed my muscles. The sea summoned me, calling me like a mother beckoning her child. I walked further into the waves.
The current picked up, thrusting so strong it pulled my feet from under me. I stumbled, then fell back, sinking into the seabed where I felt murky ground. I pushed upward. My head bobbed above the water, and the wind bellowed against my ears like a sorrowful song. Another surge swept me under again. I struggled to return to the surface, but my wet clothes made my limbs too heavy to fight the current. I closed my eyes and let sea hold me in its arms.
Moments of the past tumbled with the waves, rolling over me. I relived precious moments of my existence, beginning with my birth.
White rays from the sun blinded above her head, and throbbing pain ripped through her body. She reached for her baby but was too weak. Her head fell back. “Why isn’t he crying?” she choked out. “Where is he?”
Frantic commands, yelling, screaming.
Her chest tightened. “Where…” She again reached to feel for her baby, but the space went black.
“There’s another!” the midwife cried as she handed the silent baby to a bystander. “Another baby!”
