“You were with Snowy when your mother left you two alone?” He interrupted.
“Yes. I was with Snowy at the mall and I ran into some friends from school who told me about dad’s show so I went to the gallery with them.”
“And Snowy went with you?”
I shrugged. “Sure. She hated it. I should probably call and apologize or thank her or something. I left her and Smoke together for way too long while I stared at the painting.” I felt a sudden need to go to my room and see if it was still there.
“Uh huh. So did anything happen at the gallery?” He started thumping some meat with a mallet.
I paused, remembering the weird guy. “I think a Hotblood hit on me.”
Satan grunted. “This trip sounds more and more exciting. What color were his eyes?”
“I’m supposed to remember the color of his eyes? Honestly Satan, it was just some random guy.”
He snorted. “Hotbloods do not blend in. How old was he? What was his voice like? How did you feel around him?”
I stared at him and barely kept from laughing at his intense interest. “He was darkish, kind of cute I guess, college age maybe? Satan I don’t get what you…”
“You were attacked outside of Slider’s? Dariana, I hate to sound cocky, but stuff like that does not happen in a city belonging to Slide. If someone were dealing with Slider, no one in their right mind would have touched that person. Not unless they were suicidal.”
I stared at him, still bewildered by what he was saying. “I thought suicidal people were considered out of their minds.” He scowled at me in a way I didn’t like. “Well what do you want me to say? I’m sorry someone broke the rules and attacked me. How could they be so inconsiderate?!”
“Your mother didn’t mention it.” His voice was quiet on that, and he shook his head. “I don’t like that. I am here for the sole purpose of keeping you safe. Why would she keep quiet about an attack?”
“Maybe she doesn’t trust you.”
He grinned at me. “Of course she doesn’t trust me. I wonder if she told your father.”
I shrugged and finished working in silence. If Satan didn’t understand what was going on, I wasn’t exactly the person to enlighten him. I didn’t remotely understand the dynamic between my parents.
I was sitting on the white stairs reading Lewis’ book when the doorbell rang. I had time to put a bookmark in and stand up before my mother was there throwing open the door and greeting Old Peter in tones of charming exuberance that grated on my nerves.
“I’m so delighted that you made it Old Peter. How is the farm? Hasn’t the weather been lovely? Does the cold bother your arthritis? Oh Lewis. Welcome to our home. Dariana should be…” She looked around and saw me where I stood on the stairs, barefoot in my dress with my book. I should have done something with my hair, I thought, shoving strands out of my face. “Ah, there you are. Dinner isn’t quite ready. Why don’t you show Lewis your new painting while Old Peter and Saturn get reacquainted?”
I looked past my mother to Lewis where he stood behind Old Peter, a funny smile on his mouth. He raised his eyebrows and I nodded. “Sure. I guess.”
My mother escorted Old Peter into the living room leaving, me to stare at Lewis. He held up something in his hands, a dish of food that my mother had apparently missed. “Oh. Let me take that to the kitchen,” I said, glad to have something to do less weird than show Lewis my room. I hurried down the steps and reached for the pan but he shook his head.
“Lead the way. It’s hot.” I walked to the kitchen, aware of the delicious scent wafting from the pan.
“You didn’t have to bring anything. We have tons of food,” I said once we were in the kitchen.
He laughed putting it on the counter. “I like cooking.”
“You made it? What is it?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing really. You have a new painting? Is it your dad’s?”
“Come see it.” If he wasn’t going to explain things to me I wasn’t going to either. He followed me up the stairs and I wished he could go first. I had the most irresistible urge to glance back at him. At my room, I was glad it was mostly clean when I threw open the door. “What do you think?” I asked turning to the wall with my Axel on it.
His sharp inhale was the only sound he made for a long time. Finally he shook his head and gave me a curious look. “That’s an Axel.”
“Yeah. Do you like it?”
He turned his head to the side and squinted his eyes. “It’s great.” He turned his attention to the rest of my room. “I love your rug, and your bed. Your room doesn’t look anything like the rest of your house.”
“I take that as a compliment,” I said dropping on my bed. “My mother hates color.”
He raised his eyebrows and smiled a nice smile that made his eyes crinkle around the corners. “I don’t suppose she’s terribly crazy about your painting then.” He sat carefully on the edge of my bed and looked at it again. “It’s better from this angle.”
“Actually,” I said leaning back against my pillow. “It’s best from here.”
He raised his eyebrow skeptically. “I don’t see how it could possibly be better. Maybe it’s just different.”
“Oh no,” I said and put a hand on his shoulder to pull him down beside me. “Better.” He stared at me, his face inches from mine as I lay there on my bed and suddenly the whole situation struck me as very dangerous. I could hear his heart beating in his chest, his pulse beating rapidly in his throat.
“Dariana,” he said quietly, staring into my eyes. “I can’t see the painting from this angle.”
“Oh.” I said and sat up abruptly. I looked at the painting, and for some reason it wasn’t nearly as compelling as Lewis’ eyes had been. “Do you think dinner’s ready? I think it might be.” I slid off the bed and hovered near the door as Lewis studied me from his position on my bed. I looked away but the picture of him looking so at home on my bed didn’t go away.
“You tell me. Your senses are sharper than mine,” he said idly reaching to my bed table where I’d put his book. “You’re almost finished.” He opened it and began reading to himself.
I looked around and finally perched on the top of my dresser watching him read. I loved watching his face change expression, an amused smile turning into a melancholy sigh before he closed it and put it down while he got off the bed. “I think dinner is ready now,” he said.
In the dining room, probably the least used room in the house, I took a helping of Lewis’ Indian curry and didn’t miss his smile when I put it in my mouth. It was indescribably perfect; I ate it too quickly and reached for more.
“Lewis always was a good cook,” Old Peter said, his rough chuckle turning into a cough. “Excuse me.” He leaned back in his chair for a moment. His shock of white hair stuck around his head as he looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “This is probably the most pleasant time I’ve had with Wilds for a very long time.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken so long for us to invite you,” my mother said politely while Satan snorted.
“What are your plans for straightening out this soul business?” Old Peter asked.
Lewis choked on what he was eating and Satan leaned over to thump him a few times on the back.
“From what you said,” Satan said cheerfully, “There aren’t a whole lot of options Lewis hasn’t already tried.”
Lewis smiled at Satan, holding tightly to his silverware. “It isn’t the sort of problem that I’ve had to solve before.”
“What?” I asked, aware of the tension between Lewis and Satan, the way Old Peter was not looking at anyone, and my mother was watching Lewis closely.
“I appreciate what you’ve been doing, Lewis. We all do. Of course we would have liked to know about the circumstances sooner, but with tensions between our breeds no one’s blaming you,” my mother said reassuringly.
“Excuse me?” I dropped my fork to my plate with a clatter. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on
?”
“You have each other’s souls,” Old Peter said helpfully, gesturing his knife from Lewis back to myself. “He kissed you, you took his soul, and then—Lewis you should show them your arm—he got your soul.” He smiled and popped out his false teeth to suck on his gums.
“Thank you Old Peter. What would I do without your succinct portrayal of events?” Lewis asked drily.
I looked around the table at my mother, and her smooth expressionless face, Satan where he grinned from ear to ear, and Old Peter who looked vaguely sleepy, to Lewis where he looked at me with a startling intensity that made my heart pound. “You have my soul?” I asked, still not understanding.
He frowned at his plate and then gave me a forced smile. “I’m afraid it’s true.”
I looked at Old Peter who had his teeth back in his mouth and was busy with some mashed potatoes. I turned back to Lewis. “He said after you kissed me I took your soul.” He nodded tersely. “You kissed me?”
“Honestly, Dari, that’s hardly the most interesting point now, is it?” my mother said, her emotionless mask cracking as her voice rose.
“Young girls are interested in kissing,” Old Peter said solemnly. “The frog kissing, and sleeping kissing, and what’s that other story? Anyhow, girls are interested and rightly so I’d say. Truth is that’s the point that bothers me about the whole thing.”
“Really? The other facts about the soul mess don’t seem a little out of place to you?” my mother asked, gripping the table tightly, and I realized how upset she was.
“I’ve known Lewis for a bit, and as one of the finest hunters I’ve ever had the pleasure to train, he wouldn’t take lightly to kissing a daughter of a House.”
“So you think they’re soul mates,” Satan said, nodding like that made sense.
“No!” My mother had risen to her feet, leaning on the table, looking like she was going to spring across the table at Satan. Everyone stared at her and she glared at Lewis. “Don’t you dare lean me, I’m fine,” she said as she slid back into her chair.
“Oh, she’s fine,” Satan said with a grin at me. He looked around the table and then shoved away and nodded at Lewis. “Seems we ought to have a conversation.”
“Satan you said you wouldn’t fight him,” I said, standing up, reaching for Lewis. I grabbed his hand and felt a sudden drop in my stomach as my skin touched his.
“Dishes,” Lewis said pulling his hand away gently and gathering up plates. “Satan would like me to help with the dishes. Isn’t that right?” He asked smiling mildly at Satan.
Satan sighed and shrugged. “Of course. Why would I want to fight a Hunter when I could do dishes with him?” He winked at me and piled plates together to follow Lewis out of the room. I stared after them then turned to my mother. She had her eyes closed and was rubbing her temples slowly. I felt bewildered. The feel of his skin lingered on my hand. I looked at Old Peter. He appeared to be dozing in his chair. I left the room, walking down the hall, heard Satan’s rough laugh in the kitchen and Lewis’ mild chuckle. I had to get out of there. Nothing made sense. I shoved open the patio door, and stumbled across the grass, the sun warm on my shoulders. I slowed down and finally sat, pulling my knees under my chin, wrapping my dress around my legs. Lewis had kissed me, on the lips probably. I’d taken his soul. I closed my eyes and pressed them against my knees. He was the person I’d left soulless in Sanders. Satan was right; I had hurt someone. He had my soul though. How was that possible? My dad thought the Nether had something… I remembered the dream, the first nightmare with that scream and the pain in my arm as it ripped me to the bone. I rubbed my arm, the ache in it still haunting me. It had been a dream of Lewis and the Nether. That was why I dreamed them both, because Lewis had my soul, and the Nether had given it to him. I didn’t understand how I had taken Lewis’ soul with a kiss any more than I knew why my mother had flipped out when Satan said we were soul mates. Soul mates were the stuff of fairy tales, not the kind of thing you got upset about, weren’t they? I didn’t know; everything seemed impossible to me. My heart had stopped thumping quite so loudly, and I felt a cold nose against my arm. I looked over into Ruby’s eyes and laughed.
“Impossible. I don’t even know what that means anymore. Hello, Ruby. He kissed me, and I have his soul. Do you know what a Hunter is?”
“A Hunter keeps order among Hotbloods,” Lewis said from behind me. I stiffened, wishing that Ruby’s smell hadn’t blocked out his so thoroughly. “Wilds step in otherwise and Hotbloods really don’t like that.”
I nodded like that made sense. He settled down a few steps away from me, staring towards the woods, ignoring Ruby’s growl.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everything. I usually don’t have trouble fixing things, but this…” he shook his head and I had an instinctive urge to comfort him.
“It’s fine.” He gave me a skeptical glance that made me scramble for something to say. “Okay, it’s not fine, but I took your soul. I guess. I’m sorry about that.”
He laughed. “I kissed you Dari. I deserved the consequence of such a…” He shook his head.
“What?” I asked and put a hand on the textured fabric on his knee.
He looked down studying my hand for a minute before I pulled it off and started petting Ruby distractedly. “It’s difficult to explain something I don’t understand myself. Dari...” He looked at me intently, and I stared into his eyes, fascinated by the gold and green brought out by the sunshine. “It’s going to be all right.” He smiled at me and I found myself leaning towards him.
“Dariana, Old Peter is leaving. Would you like to say goodbye?” My mother’s voice made me jump.
Lewis stood up and Ruby butted her head under my hand, walking between us as we moved towards the house growling at Lewis every once in awhile. Lewis looked at Ruby’s silver teeth and rubbed his arm absently. I looked curiously at the fabric of his shirt, wondering what the wound looked like, but there was my mother ushering us into the house as Ruby turned and raced for the woods.
Old Peter and Satan were standing in the hall laughing about something, and my mother thanked them for coming and then they were gone. Our house seemed strangely empty without Lewis and Old Peter. I started up the stairs.
“Dariana,” my mother said quietly, “do you want to talk about it?”
I closed my eyes, facing away from her. “Not really. I still have homework to do.”
“All right,” she said quietly, and I left.
In my room I heard the strains of a guitar downstairs. I sat up at first thinking of Devlin, but then a voice was singing, Satan’s voice, wrapped around an old ballad that somehow suited the texture of his voice. I stared at the painting, the colors swirling together seeming to pull me into the darkness behind my eyes.
13 Hotbloods, Bankers, and Demons, Oh My!
On Monday, I was nervous when I saw Lewis, but he was the same, with a smile for me that was only slightly warmer than the one he gave Snowy. I had his soul, but he kept his distance. Maybe that was why he was so careful. If kissing me once had left him unconscious in the woods it was unlikely something he wanted to repeat.
I followed his lead and treated him as much like Osmond as I could. He ate with us at lunch, careful to sit with a good amount of space between us. I told myself I didn’t mind, that it was responsible of him, and I liked that about him. The truth was I liked everything about him. He was funny, nice, and good-looking. Osmond started to get more relaxed around him as the days went by, and he saw that Lewis was indeed not going to break my heart. I wondered what he would say if I told him that Lewis had already kissed me, but not even the shock on Osmond’s face was worth the humiliation. Apparently one kiss was enough for a lifetime. No wonder Lewis had frozen at the Festival when I kissed his cheek. Kissing me was a seriously dangerous prospect.
One day as I was sketching Snowy at lunch, Lewis slid into a chair beside me and watched me over my shoulder. I tried to concentrate on Snowy, but my hand was shaking by the
time he reached over and put his hand over mine.
“Here, that angle is more like this,” he said, and then pulled away leaving me with a pounding heart and a nose full of the scent of his shampoo and skin, like the sun or fresh mown grass, something too good to eat.
“Thanks,” I said, and for the first time my drawing actually looked a little bit like what it was meant to represent. “How did you do that?” I asked glancing over at him.
He shrugged and forked his noodles. “Practice. I went to a school when I was younger that was very into the arts.”
“And now you’re in Sanders. Tough life, man,” Osmond said sitting across from me. “Dari, do you have a date for Homecoming?”
I could feel how stiff Lewis had gone beside me. I looked at him curiously then back at Osmond. I shrugged. “I’m just doing a dance with Smoke. I don’t have a date.”
“Dress,” Snowy said looking up from her notebook. She was less and less talkative the closer it got to Homecoming. “Autumn colored, maybe aubergine or lime.”
“Lime?” I asked bewildered. I didn’t even know what aurbergine was.
“Anyway,” Osmond said patiently, “Why don’t I take you? We can have a picnic or something, go double with Snowy, and... Snowy,” he tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “Who are you going with?”
Snowy blinked at him, and her face lost all its color. “I didn’t actually…” she trailed off.
“Why don’t we all go together,” Lewis said, giving Snowy a slight smile. “That way no one has to worry about getting dates with some kind of expectations. We’ll be a group.”
I frowned at him wondering if he really did like Snowy, and looked at her. Snowy bit her lip and looked near tears. “Yeah. That makes sense. Since none of us are dating anyone we should all just go.” She nodded again and stared at her notebook.
She always went with Devlin. Not as a matter of course, but he asked her in marvelous romantic ways that made every other girl in school envious. Devlin had style Snowy appreciated. I wondered if she even wanted to go without Devlin. I thought to myself that we should have a pajama party at my house and stay in my room playing board games all night and forget about the expectations of high school. Of course, that wouldn’t work since Snowy was still queen of the school with or without Devlin.
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