Darkness Fair (The Dark Cycle Book 2)

by Marks, Rachel A.

  “It was a demon.”

  “To her, it was a pet. We just need to get our ducks in a row or we’ll be paying out everything we’ve earned from that Reese shoot to Crazy Hoarder Lady. Let’s just hope she buys the ‘Fluffy ran off’ story.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “Today.”

  I give him a look. “Seriously. I hear you.” When he starts to walk away, I add, “Holly said Kara’s still in her room. Is that right?” She had a headache last night. Hopefully she’s not getting sick; the health insurance plan isn’t too awesome for a ghost hunter. And the whole “off the grid” thing makes medical care even tougher.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Connor says over his shoulder as he walks away. “I’ve been stuck in this damn office all day.”

  I head up the stairs and when I make it to the top landing I notice that Kara’s door is cracked open. I was going to take a shower before checking on her, but the idea of her sleeping at this time of day is so odd. She’s usually full of energy, running around, helping Connor, or looking for new sites to film and doing research on local history if she’s not with Sid on a job.

  I move closer to her room and try to feel for negative vibes or emotions, but I can’t sense anything rising above the spells and protections on the house that muffle my abilities. Whatever’s going on with her, it can’t be too horrible.

  “Kara?” I whisper through the door. I knock softly, in case she really is sick.

  Several seconds pass without an answer. I push the door open and peek inside.

  She’s lying in her bed, facing away from me, sheets tangled around her bare legs. The afternoon sun shines across her in white beams, heating the room, making the space smell like her vanilla lotion, like warm cotton sheets. The scent fills my head, settling my nerves a little. I want to go to her, lie beside her and feel the peace of it all, until I’m dreaming.

  But then my own smell catches up with me and I decide to take a shower first.

  I turn to leave but my eyes catch something smeared across her pillowcase. Stepping closer, I see red-brown streaks on the blue sheet, near her head.

  Not blood; I’m just being paranoid.

  But as I lean closer the copper scent makes my body tense.

  I panic, grabbing her, shifting her to face me. Her eyelids. Her cheeks. Her chin. They’re coated in crimson. It’s coming from her eyes.

  Dread wraps around my throat like a noose, making it impossible to breathe, to think. I grip her arm tighter, “Kara, wake up,” but she doesn’t move. I touch her neck, feeling for a pulse, but my own heartbeat is too fierce in my skin, it’s all I’m getting. A stampede of frantic thoughts fills every molecule. She told me she had a headache. Why didn’t I check in on her this morning before I went on the job with Sid? Why did I assume things were fine?

  “Kara!”

  A moan slips through her lips and I breathe out in a rush of relief. She’s alive.

  She mumbles into her pillow. “What?” And then she grunts.

  “Kara, wake up. Open your eyes.”

  She rolls a little closer and tries to open her eyes, but there’s dried blood on her lashes, sticking them together. She lifts her hand to her face, groaning like a tired kid. “What the . . . ?” She finally gets her eyes open and squints at me through blood flakes and sleep. “You suck. Why’re you waking me up?”

  I stand and rush to the landing, yelling down to the first floor, “Holly, get Sid! Jax, bring me a wet rag! And hurry!” Then I go back to Kara’s side.

  She shushes me when I sit back down on the bed. “You’re soooo loud.”

  “I’m loud because I’m freaking out, Kara. I need you to sit up.”

  She shakes her head, then hisses in pain. “God, who drugged me?”

  “Tell me where it hurts.”

  “My brain is mad at me.” Her words are slurred, making her sound drunk. Or hungover. But I was sitting with her last night on the porch until we both went off to bed. The only thing she drank was some iced tea.

  And a hangover doesn’t make your eyes bleed.

  Jax comes in, holding a rag. “Dude, what am I, your servant now? Clean up your own mess.” He hands me the damp cloth and then steps back, noticing the blood on Kara’s face. “Whoa, what’d you do to her?”

  “Nothing, dumbass. Did Holly go get Sid?”

  He nods. After a pause he points at Kara and says, “Her eyes are bleeding,” like I’m blind.

  Kara jerks to attention at that. “Wha . . . ?” Her hands fly to her face again.

  I glare at Jax. “Way to ease into it.”

  He shrugs, but there’s concern in his expression. “Maybe I should go tell Sid to hurry it up.” And then he’s jetting out of the room and I hear his footsteps rushing down the stairs.

  Kara’s voice trembles when she asks, “Aidan, what’s going on?”

  “You’ve been up here all day. And you’re . . . bleeding.”

  She licks her lips and rubs a few flakes of dried blood from her cheek. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly four.”

  Her caked eyes widen. “In the afternoon?”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Like baked shit.”

  Sid appears in the doorway. “That’s bad, I assume,” he says. “Could you be more specific?” He grips his cane and taps it nervously on the floor.

  “What’s going on, Sid?” I ask. Is this something medical or something spiritual? “What could be doing this?”

  Sid comes closer. “I’m not sure.” He shoos me out of the way and takes my place on the side of the bed, settling in as he examines Kara. He feels her pulse, counting the beats as he stares at his watch. He runs a finger through the flakes of blood on her cheek, then rubs them with his thumb and brings them to his nose. He studies her eyes, and makes a sound in the back of his throat.

  “What?” I ask, impatient.

  “I have no idea what’s going on.”

  “Perfect,” Kara mutters.

  Connor bursts in, he looks frantic as his eyes lock on Kara. “What happened? Are you all right? My God, you’re bleeding.”

  “I’m fine,” Kara says, trying to sound annoyed. But I can hear the fear in her voice and see it in the way she’s gripping the edge of her shirt.

  “She’s not bleeding anymore,” Sid says, trying to ease everyone’s panic, even though I can see that he’s trying to conceal his own worry, just like Kara.

  Holly and Jax loiter in the doorway. Jax pipes in, “Maybe it’s that stigmatism thing. She could be, like, turning into the Virgin Mary or something.”

  Holly rolls her eyes. “It’s called stigmata, moron.”

  Jax raises his hands defensively. “Whatever you say, Queen Catholic.”

  I move to the door and shut it in their faces, blocking the two of them out as they begin bickering, then I turn back to Sid. “How do we figure out what this is?”

  “We need to do something,” Connor says, kneeling at Kara’s side and taking her hand protectively, staring at Sid like this is all his fault. He’s never liked the way Sid deals with Kara, but it all really comes back to me in the end. Anything Sid did to Kara, he did because of me.

  Kara starts to sit up, clenching her jaw like the movement is causing her pain. “You boys better calm the hell down or I’m kicking you all out.”

  Sid glances over at me. “You should look at her soul, Aidan. Can you see it when you’re in the house?”

  My insides churn. I haven’t looked at Kara’s soul in weeks. Not since that night on the beach when we confronted the Heart-Keeper. It felt wrong after that somehow, because of everything we’d been through. Like I was spying on her. And seeing all those handprints on her shoulders, her chest, and that one bright-red one on her neck . . .

  I can’t bear to think of what those men did to her.

  I look at her. “Is it okay if I try to see?” I’m not even sure I’ll be able to. I’ve seen it in the house before, the first day I met her, but the wards are much stronge
r now, since Sid reinforced them after my Awakening.

  “Yeah, sure,” she says with a shrug. She’s still pretending to be more relaxed than she really is.

  “Just focus on the protection spells that are on the property first,” Sid tells me. “Then pierce through them, like pulling back a curtain.”

  He makes it sound so easy.

  I force myself to look at her and my pulse picks up. I let my inner walls fall and focus as hard as I can. Before I know it, every emotion in the room rushes at me, colliding and thickening the air. Well, I can sure feel that. I slow my breathing and try to sift through it.

  Kara sits up more and leans against the wall behind her, her chin high, her muscles tense. She won’t look at me, though. And I know that I won’t be able to see her soul, not like this. We need to connect in some way if I’m going to sense her clearly over the muffle of the house.

  “Can you focus on me?” I ask her, quietly.

  She blinks up at me and blood flakes sprinkle onto her chest. Goose bumps rise on her arms and legs. She grips the sheet tighter to keep her hands from shaking. But she’s Kara. Strong. Stronger than me.

  And I feel her, the core of her. So I try to look. I sense the block on the house pressing at me, the energy that turns the air into cotton. It hugs me like a blanket I can’t see through. I try what Sid suggested and move the thick coating aside in my mind, then push back at it.

  There, it’s working. The marks surface on Kara’s skin, the image of her soul rising up. First and brightest is the red handprint on her throat, the reminder of her pain. Then the Chinese characters on the back of her neck; evidence of the curse her father placed on her when she was eleven. Each of the six characters is lit with her energy’s blue glow. But something’s different; the usual cerulean color of the light seems faded. And the other handprints on her arms and chest are fuzzy, blurred into grey smudges.

  Maybe they’re blurry because of the house, though. “I’m not sure if I’m seeing it right. But there’s nothing bad, nothing new that I can see.”

  Kara releases her breath in a puff, like she was holding it in.

  Sid is still frowning.

  “I can look at it outside of the grounds,” I say. “Some of it’s kinda blurry.”

  “I don’t want to drag her anywhere right now,” Sid says, not looking satisfied in the least. “And I need to do some research.” He leans over and kisses Kara’s brow. “You need to rest.”

  Then he stands, waving for me and Connor to follow him. When we all get to the base of the staircase, he stops and whispers, “The blood is not a good sign.”

  “No kidding,” I say, worry turning to anger. “This is why I hate casting magic. Nothing good ever comes of it.”

  Connor’s just standing there, staring a hole through Sid’s head.

  “That magic has helped her, Aidan,” Sid says. “You didn’t see her when I found her. She was a shell of a girl, barely spoke. The spell I put on her has given her freedom. And it brought you both together—”

  Connor steps forward, interrupting. “We should be taking her back to the doctor. This could be some sort of side effect from her concussion last month.”

  “Perhaps you should consult WebDoc,” Sid says, absently.

  “Be serious, Sid,” I say. “If she’s got a residual head injury, that’s not a joke.” My pulse speeds back up at the thought. I’m only good with the supernatural, I can’t fix the natural; my abilities would be useless.

  “I realize that,” Sid says. “Perhaps one of us can call the doctor tomorrow to be safe. But I don’t think that’s what this is.”

  “What the hell else could it be?” Connor asks.

  “I can’t be sure, not yet.” We just keep glaring at Sid, so he adds, “I believe the blood may be a signal that the spell I put on her in order to awaken your powers, Aidan—it could be . . . weakening. When I reversed the curse her father placed over her, things had the potential to fail. If that first curse was too strong, then my casting to flip it could have initially missed the mark, so to speak. And I do recall a stigmata-type manifestation being mentioned in the text as a possible sign of that.” His posture sinks, making him seem smaller. “I thought any signs like this would have come earlier, but perhaps not . . . If I’m right, there must be a way to repair the damage.”

  “There better be,” Connor says. “In the meantime, I’m not waiting to call the doctor.” He turns and heads into the office.

  “This is just great.” I rub my temple to keep from grabbing Sid by the throat. I’ve told him again and again how lame his plan to awaken my power was, how his use of Kara was twisted and wrong. Ever since the beginning, his logic has been majorly sideways. And now, if Kara is sick because Sid fucked with her soul for the sake of my destiny . . .

  “I’ll fix it,” Sid whispers, fear in his eyes. Fear of me, or for Kara, it doesn’t matter, as long as it puts a fire under his ass.

  “Yes, you will,” I say through my teeth and head into the office after Connor.

  FIVE

  Aidan

  When I get back to Kara’s room, she’s sitting at the edge of her bed, cleaning her cheeks with the wet rag Jax brought up.

  Her gaze finds mine and my chest constricts. Vulnerability and fear linger right on the surface. I feel the fear inside me, too, but she can’t know. I can’t let her see that the terror nearly swallowed me whole the second I saw her so pale and bloody.

  “How’re you feeling?” I ask, sitting next to her. My memory flashes back to our kiss the first week that I got here, after Rebecca’s party, the way we were both so desperate, so wrapped up in each other, even when I was fairly sure we didn’t even like each other. I don’t feel the buzz in my skin when we touch anymore—she was right, it faded soon after my Awakening. But I still want her. And not because of a spell or a curse, just because of my normal human heart.

  She smirks at me. “Considering I was bleeding out of my eyes a little while ago, I feel surprisingly good.” She leans over, poking me in the side with her elbow. “Don’t look so glum, Mr. Frown. I’m fine.”

  “Very funny.”

  “What did Sid say? I know you guys had a secret meeting just now. Are you planning the funeral?”

  “Stop it, Kara.” Despite her mirth, my throat goes tight. I can’t even . . .

  “Man, this has you freaked. I really do feel fine, Aidan. Now that I’m fully awake, the headache is even fading a bit.” She reaches out and turns my face toward her, then kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  I nod because I can’t speak. My mom, my sister, and now Kara. And it could all be due to me. Because I was born and the spiritual world tipped on its head.

  But maybe she’s right, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’ll be fine since she’s feeling okay now. Connor reached the doctor who Sid uses for basic care, and he’s coming over to check her out tomorrow.

  I hold on to the hope that nothing else will happen and swallow the fear. Too many emotions today as it is, and I can’t let the torrent take me. I can’t let it win.

  “So, tell me what Sid said.” She moves away a little to look at me.

  I clear my throat and hold her hand to help me feel more grounded. “Connor got you an appointment with Doctor Brander for tomorrow morning. And when we googled the symptoms—”

  She interrupts, waving me off. “No, what did Sid say?”

  I hesitate for a few seconds. “He’s wondering if it’s the counter spell he put on you to reverse your father’s curse. It’s possible that the protections could be slipping.”

  She blinks, her breath quickening. “Sid’s spell might be failing?” I feel the pulse under her skin now. “Not totally, though, right? I mean, I didn’t think that could happen. But maybe Sid could just do it over? My dad’s curse won’t come back all the way, will it?”

  I squeeze her hand, trying to comfort her. She’s been through so much with all this shit already. If the horror of what her father did to
her—making her a target to attract all those men to her, taking away her control—if that comes back . . . I don’t want to think about what that would mean. “He’s not sure, Kara. It might not even have anything to do with the curse. It could be related to something completely separate.”

  “Right,” she says, like she’s trying to convince herself as much as me. “Because it could be something totally different than the spell. Like something I picked up on a job. It could be some kind of residual muck from that loony-bin shoot I’ve been working on with Jax and Connor.”

  “Sure, that’s possible.” Though I have no idea how. “Or it might be a side effect from your concussion.” Connor really did go on WebDoc and read that a head injury that didn’t heal correctly could cause the ears and eyes to bleed.

  She’s quiet for a few seconds, then she turns and looks at me intently. “I’m going to be all right.”

  She seems to almost be wishing it into being, like a spell.

  Then she whispers, “I’m yours now, so I’ll be all right,” making a small sound of resignation before she’s suddenly moving, leaning in, grabbing my shirt in her fist, and kissing me full on the mouth.

  It takes me a second to react and get my bearings. But then she’s pressing into me, deepening the connection and pushing me back onto the bed. I let her, even though it’s not what I expected, even though it’s not a good idea.

  Since when has that mattered between us?

  But this isn’t the PG vibe I’ve been feeling recently between us. Her skin is hot to the touch, the air around her vibrating. And she’s holding on to me like her life depends on it, like she did before my Awakening when our connection was a force all its own.

  I’m yours seems to tickle my ears as we kiss, the odd tone in her voice.

  I know I should stop, that something isn’t right, but I can’t help it. I’ve missed this. I get lost in my own need, trying to show her how much I want her in the way I grip her hips, how I pull her closer.

  We move in sync as we find each other in that space where no words are needed and neither of us will ever be alone again. She’s shaped against my side as my hands slide up her back and I wish that I could touch more of her skin, wish that her shirt was anywhere but between us.