As she turned the key in the ignition, the unmistakable sound of the engine not wanting to start filled Diana with dread. She tried a few more times to no avail.
“You have got to be kidding me!” She slammed her hands on the wheel in frustration.
“Are you doing it right?” Darien began to reach over to help, but stopped himself, realizing that being in such close proximity to the ignition switch might cause more problems.
“Of course I am,” Diana snipped back. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to start a car the right way.”
Darien shrugged. “What do I know about automobiles? My people never use them unless absolutely necessary. To be honest, this is the first time I have ridden in the front seat of one in over eighty years.”
Diana just stared at him. “You know this is probably your fault, right?”
Darien sighed in resignation and laid his head back on the headrest. “I know,” he said. “I abhor your technology. This entire day would have been much easier if we could have just ridden in a sharifon coach instead of this blasted machine.”
Diana would have asked what a sharifon was had her curiosity not been overshadowed by her frustration. She was in no mood for a lecture.
“Why don’t you just use your mobile phone to call for a driver?” Darien asked.
Diana pulled out her cell and inspected the screen.
“No signal,” she replied. “It’s not like it would be much help anyways—not unless cabs around here are sixty years old.”
Darien sighed and opened the car door.
“Well, I suppose we’re just going to have to spend the night here and walk into town at first light. I see no other choice.”
Diana got out of the car as well.
“I guess not,” she agreed and shut the door.
Looking at the old dilapidated house, a shiver coursed its way up the length of Diana’s spine. It was even creepier in the darkness of dusk and there was no telling what nasty things came out of the woodwork at night.
“Let’s hurry inside before you catch a chill,” Darien said, noticing her shudders.
“I don’t think it’s going to be much warmer inside the house, honestly,” Diana replied, looking at the holes strewn about it. “We’ll have to stay in Charlotte’s room; it’s the only one that appears to be habitable.”
Darien nodded and they carefully made their way inside the house.
Once back in Charlotte’s room, Diana couldn’t help but sigh in defeat at her present situation. It wasn’t quite how she’d imagined they’d be spending their first night together. She certainly wasn’t happy about sharing the room with God only knows what else.
She shivered again at the thought.
“Let me do something about that chill,” Darien said, heading towards the rotted bedroom door. Picking it up as if it weighed next to nothing, he shattered the door over his knee, and then gathered the pieces of wood into a pile. With a descent amount of kindling, Darien scooped up the wood into his arms, plopped it down next to the fireplace, and then tossed a couple of pieces into the hearth.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a pack of matches or a lighter in your bag, would you?”
She shook her head.
“Oh well, it’s not a problem. It would just be easier.”
Diana was about to ask why when Darien stood from the floor and brought his right arm up, clenching his palm open, and closed his eyes tightly in intense concentration.
Diana froze in place at the sight, unable to move.
A familiar feeling of coldness began to swirl within Diana’s chest until it felt like a snowball had somehow formed around her heart. Only then did she realize that she’d felt similar sensations each time she’d been in the presence of magical energies.
As smoke started to rise from Darien’s palm, she could see heat waves radiating above his skin in the moonlight. An instant later, a small flame appeared floating above Darien’s hand. With extreme relief, he let out the breath he had been holding in.
Diana could not pull her eyes from the small flame.
“There,” Darien said finally, looking to Diana. “I’m slightly attuned to fire magic, but I lack the ability to wield it to any degree of success. I only trained in the basics so I could study Runecrafting.”
With fire in hand, Darien bent down and placed the small flame near the pieces of the wooden door. They soon caught fire and began to smolder. Closing his eyes again, Darien moved his hand to and fro like the dance of the flame. In moments, the fire grew larger and burned with greater intensity.
“That should suffice,” he said with a proud smile. “It will be warm in here soon enough.”
The fire illuminated the area much more than Diana’s small flashlight had before. The dark and dilapidated room had been transformed by the warming tones of the firelight back into the elegant living quarters of a lady of England. As if looking at it for the first time, Diana tried to imagine the way the room had been when her aunt had lived, without the cracking, faded, windows and the peeling wallpaper. It would have been lovely.
With the warm glow of the fire, the scenario grew exceedingly more romantic—and awkward. Apparently not knowing what to do with himself, Darien poked around in the fire while pretending not to look at Diana. She had no doubts that he was more than nervous about being alone with her for the entire night—next to a roaring fire, no less. Darien had been anxious being alone with Diana in his own house, with other people down the hall; this was probably torturous for him.
She decided to ease his troubled mind.
“Well, we’re stuck here for the night; we might as well be productive,” Diana said. “Let’s search the room again; it should be easier with the firelight.”
“Yes, of course,” Darien said, a little too relieved. “Where have you already looked?”
“In the closet, but I got a little creeped out by the spider-webs.” She even felt disgusted by the memory. “You should probably look it over for yourself.”
Darien smirked. “I will never understand how human women can be so afraid of such small creatures. They are infinitely more afraid of you than you are of them.” He made his way to the closet door.
“We’re irrational creatures. I’ll admit it,” Diana replied as she sat on the bed and opened a drawer in the bedside table.
There wasn’t much of interest within—an old pen, a broken watch, and some old pieces of paper. Diana took out the papers and examined them. About the size of a notepad, they appeared to be handwritten letters of some kind. The large, sloppy, writing on each letter was written in a different color and obviously from a child’s hand.
Diana read one of the letters.
Dear Aunt Charlotte,
Your last letter made me very happy. You hadn’t written for so long that I was worried the bad people finally found you. Did you really go down in a sewer with rats? I hope that part was a fib. Rosie and Ivy really liked hearing about it because they are weird. They say hello too and want you to buy them both scarves from Rome the next time you go. Is Fox treating you good? Daddy says that he is a Good-For-Nothing and that you should leave him and come live with us. I think he just misses you. Will you come visit us soon?
Love Lily.
Grandma… In her hands, Diana held the letters that her grandmother had written to her aunt. Charlotte had apparently collected them and kept them at her bedside. How did Grandma Lily even know where to send these? According to the stories, Charlotte and Flinders had always been on the run. Curious, Diana read another letter.
Dear Aunt Charlotte,
Daddy was really happy to read your last letter. Are you really coming to live in America? I really hope that you do. I wish you were coming to live in Chicago with us and not Ohio. Ivy says our nightclubs are the best ones west of New York City but Rosie says Ivy is full of something daddy won’t let me say. Will you come visit us at Thanksgiving or Christmas? I wrote Santa and told him all I want this year is for you to come visit. I’ve
been good, so he will make you come. I know people are always chasing you, but watch out for Santa, he is a good man.
Love Lily
Diana’s heart ached her grandmother. She knew Charlotte never had the chance to meet Lily and her sisters in person. Poor Grandma—that must have been a very disappointing Christmas.
Diana clutched the silver brooch as the tears began welling up in her eyes. Did Charlotte intend to give the keepsake to Lily when they were finally able to meet? Perhaps an intended Christmas present that could never be given? Diana knew how much Charlotte’s letters and stories had meant to Lily, and that one of her biggest regrets was not being able to meet her aunt before she died. She hadn’t even been able to attend a funeral. Foxwell had written to Lily’s father with the news of his sister’s sudden death and that she’d been cremated.
Darien emerged from the closet and swiftly appeared at Diana’s side. He must have noticed her sudden tears.
“Diana, are you alright,” he asked with worry in his voice. “Did you hurt yourself? Is there a spider?”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I just miss my grandma.”
Though he appeared confused, Darien sat down on the bed next to Diana and held her anyway.
She burrowed her head in his chest and clutched the front of his shirt. He probably thought she was being ridiculous, but Diana didn’t care. She needed to cry.
Darien softly rubbed Diana’s head, letting her vent her emotions. When she was ready, Diana unburied her face but kept her head nestled against Darien’s chest.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping a tear away. “I found these old letters my grandma sent Charlotte and it made me miss her.”
“It’s alright,” Darien said. “Emotions can be a powerful thing. Sometimes, it’s best just to let them run their course.” He kissed her tenderly on the forehead while continuing to softly rub her hair. Afterwards, he rested his cheek on her forehead.
Diana’s core filled with warmth at the soft touch of his face. The gesture felt so—intimate.
As he continued to hold her tenderly, Diana could feel Darien’s heart reaching out to hers and the sensation was not unlike her own unique empathy. In sudden flashes, Diana ached with startled fear, followed by an emotional anguish unrivaled by anything she’d ever experienced. It felt as if the most joyous part of her soul had been severed away with one swift blow and Diana knew she was sharing in Darien’s remembered pain at the loss of his parents. Though it was almost too much for her to bear, she felt the joy returning to her soul and Diana knew that it was she who had finally begun to heal the centuries-old wound.
They continued to share each other’s emotions, comforting one another with an unspoken intensity that Diana could not describe with words. They were almost one person.
Diana’s heart began to beat faster.
A peculiar sensation enveloped her heart, similar to chill of sensing magic, but the exact opposite—Diana felt as if a ball of flame burned within her chest. Her head began to be overtaken by a fever-like haze and she found it increasingly harder to focus.
Darien took Diana’s chin in his hand and lifted her mouth to his. When their lips met, all vestiges of sadness melted away, replaced with something else entirely—pure joy, mixed with intense relief and eager anticipation.
Diana returned his kiss.
She knew it had only been seconds since the kiss began, but lost in the moment, it felt like countless ages passed them by. She continued to let herself fall deeply into the sweet nothingness and Darien followed close behind.
Their lips danced together in unison as the passion behind them intensified. They instinctively fell back onto the bed, seeking a much more comfortable position, as they continued to kiss ever more vigorously, lost in the essence of each other. Diana reached her hand under Darien’s shirt, feeling the toned muscles of his back and running her fingers along the skin of his spine. She felt him shudder at the pleasurable sensation and he responded in kind, slipping his hand under her cardigan and slowly running the backs of his fingers across the soft bare skin of her side. Beginning from the fire in her core, blissful tingles spread throughout her body until they reached the tips of her fingers and toes.
As Darien continued to kiss her passionately, the heat burning within Diana grew more intense until the fires circulated through all that she was—both body and spirit. Her body aching to feel Darien’s bare skin next to hers, Diana took her hand out from under Darien’s shirt and began to unbutton her cardigan, all while refusing to tear her lips from Darien’s. The fire threatened to leap from her chest to envelop them both in a cocoon of powerful flame.
Darien suddenly pried himself from Diana, and with a look of extreme anguish on his face, stood up from the bed.
The blissful fire, that had burned so intense mere moments before, had been snuffed out, leaving a gapping abyss in its place. The pain of the flame’s sudden absence twisted Diana with unsatisfied rage
“What happened?” She seethed the words, almost screaming.
“We can’t continue on like this, Diana. We simply can’t.” He began to pace in front of the fireplace, an intense ball of anxiety. The make-out session must have done something to him that Diana couldn’t comprehend.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Diana asked, his protests causing her anger to grow. “We’re in a committed relationship, aren’t we? We’re both consenting adults. What’s the big deal?”
“It isn’t that simple, Diana,” Darien replied from his pacing, refusing to look at her.
“Then please, explain it to me,” she said, her impatience evident. “You can’t leave me feeling frustrated all the time. I have to know what’s going on if this is going to work.”
“Of course you do,” he replied and then stopped to stare at the fire. “There are some things you do not understand.” He finally turned around to look Diana in the eyes.
“Obviously.” She had never felt so exasperated in her life.
“My people experience things somewhat differently than humans,” Darien said, looking awkward and fearful at the same time.
“Go on,” Diana ordered.
“We experience life somewhere between the spiritual and the physical—it’s how we’re able to manipulate the energies of the Veil and the reason we go there when we sleep. Humans, by contrast, rarely touch the Veil and experience next to nothing of the realm of the Kratari.”
He wanted to pace again but was stopping himself.
“I know all that,” Diana seethed. “Get to the point, or I’m going to punch you in the face.”
Darien just nodded—he knew she meant it. “With that said, for my people the um—act of love making—also takes place in both the physical and spiritual realms. Our souls literally become one, creating an everlasting bond which cannot be broken until death; and if the bond of love is powerful enough, not even Morvera herself can severe it.”
He looked into Diana’s eyes with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Was it longing, worry, or grief?
“If we were to be intimate,” he continued. “My soul would be bonded to yours for the rest of my life.”
“Oh…” It was all Diana could muster. Their relationship had just reached a new threshold of intensity that she wasn’t prepared to deal with yet. Bonded for life? The notion seemed beyond the realm of possibility. It’s just sex. However, considering the power of the intimacy they had just shared moments ago, Diana knew it to be true. She’d felt her soul’s powerful longing to be one with Darien’s, and that had only been a kiss.
She liked Darien—she liked him a lot. Diana had to admit, she’d been falling hard for him since the night of Andrew’s party, before she even knew his magical secrets. She finally felt ready to give herself to someone completely, but could she see herself with Darien for the rest of her life? He was Naphalei and she was human. Was such a thing even possible? Were they just living in a dream?
“There are other things to consider as well,” Darien
continued, breaking the palpable silence. “Physical unions between elves and humans are a capital crime, punishable by death.”
“Are you serious?” Diana asked with incredulous disbelief. “I can see why it would be frowned upon—even some humans have a problem with interracial relationships—but death? Isn’t that a little extreme?”
Darien’s twisted mouth and troubled eyes signaled the anxious discomfort her questions brought with them. “Only suffering and death occur when our peoples come into contact with each other. When he saved our ancestors from the deluge, Elberon himself commanded them not to take humans as their lovers, lest destruction come upon the Mother again.”
“Ah.” Diana replied, crossing her arms over her chest. And there it was—the real reason Darien had been reluctant to get physical with her—some ancient religious law. “And you believe this? That the world will be destroyed if we have sex?” She tried not to let her skepticism seem too apparent.
Darien appeared to be struggling with what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it. “No; I don’t believe such a thing would happen, or rather, such a thing probably wouldn’t happen. I don’t claim to know what can and can’t happen in this world; I only know what I’ve studied about the events at the archives.”
“What events?” Diana’s curiosity began to overshadow her frustration—for the time being.
“Wars and cataclysms, entire dominions destroyed—things of that nature.” Darien shrugged his shoulders. “More often than not, the supposed relationships between Naphalei and Tanarai are likely later additions to the account to explain events—a rationalization for irrational times.”
“I see,” Diana replied, considering the plausibility of his explanation. “You may continue.”
“The likelihood of divine retribution aside, many among my people believe such a thing to be possible, and long ago, the conclaves ruled romantic liaisons with humans to be a crime against our very civilization. Those beliefs have only grown worse in recent times, as humans finally gained the power they lacked through technology. As it stands now, our entire civilization could be wiped out by one human pushing a button.”
Moonshadow Page 19
