Dark and Twisted

by Heidi Acosta

  “Then Abby started to have nightmares about me. At first,I didn’t think anything of it, but then she stopped sleeping. She would try to stay up, going nights without sleep, but even Fae cannot go long without rest. One night, she was attacked in her dream. She got away, but barely.” Jaxson looks down at my hands a sadness heavy in his eyes.

  “You can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.” I try to reassure him.

  He shakes his head in defeat. “Nothing I did stopped the dreams from coming. Every time she slept, she had to fight for her life. I tried everything I could think of to help her. I searched for other magical creatures looking for answers. But no matter what I did, no matter what I found, nothing helped.

  “She began to change, losing more and more of herself. I was going mad trying to find a cure for her. I would sneak in her window and sit on her bed while she slept. One night, she began to scream my name over and over again. I didn’t know what to do. I could only watch as she was attacked in her dreams.

  “I realized she was not screaming my name for help, but in fear, pure terror. Whatever it was attacking her was doing it as me.” He drops his head, shielding his face with a curtain of black hair. “Her dreams stopped after that night, but she was never the same.”

  He stops walking, and I feel for him. I want to comfort him, but I don’t know how.

  “That day they said I attacked her, I begged her to come back here to Faeylon with me. I thought if we could just get back here, someone would be able to help her. But she was more afraid of Faeylon than her dreams. When she refused to leave, I told her she deserved what she got.”

  “Jaxson, I’m so sorry.” I reach out for him but pull my hand back, pressing it tightly against my chest.

  “Those were my last words to her. I didn’t mean any of them, but I never got to tell her that because she lost her mind. I didn’t realize it was Cardelian until he took an interest in you and Juliet. He had found a way into Abby’s subconscious. That isn’t easy magic, and his kind usually doesn’t hold that type of power,” he says quietly. “I believe that he was working with Fae, and they were teaching him how to use dark magic.” He shakes his head as if he can clear away the thought of Abby, but I know he can’t.

  I only met her for a few minutes, yet even I hurt for her. I remember how she ripped out chunks of her hair, the deep scratches that ran down her cheeks, and her vacant eyes. “I don’t understand what Abby ever did to him. How could anyone torture someone like that?” I wipe at the tears stinging my eyes as exhaustion settles in.

  “It’s all a game to him, and I didn’t stop him.”

  “Jaxson, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love to their mind.” It doesn’t matter what species you are. Love is the same for all.

  He looks down at me and is silent for a long time before he nods in understanding. He leans closer to me, the invisible thread of losing someone connecting us.

  “Eden, I…”

  “Yes.” I step closer, leaving little space between us.

  He turns his head, and I think he might kiss me. My eyes flutter shut, and I tilt my head towards him, wanting to know what it feels like to be kissed by an elfin boy, by magic. I wait, but he doesn’t kiss me. My eyes fly open, feeling stupid. His head is cocked to the side as if he can hear something. I listen, too, but can’t hear anything.

  “What is it?” I scan the horizon for that lizardlike creature. I don’t see anything except dead trees and black sand stretched out in front of us for miles.

  “We need to move faster. We can finish this conversation another time.” His hand hovers by his waistband where the dagger rests.

  “What is it?” I whisper again.

  “He knows we are here.”

  “Who?” My stomach twists, tying up in a million knots at the possibility of what is out there.

  “My father.”

  His tone makes me think I would rather take my chances with the lizard monsters back in the cave.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I’m being paid back for all the times I cut gym class. My legs feel like jelly, and I can hear Coach Bowlin in my mind yelling at me, ‘Come on, Day, there are no losers in this class! Pick up your ass, or I will hand it to you.’ How one is handed their ass was a mystery to me. I once asked Coach how he would actually do that, and he sent me to sit on the bench. I can now say I have had my ass handed to me, and I think I dropped it about a mile and a half back.

  I clutch at a cramp in my side as I stumble over another rock. Jaxson the Tyrant, my new secret nickname for him, marches forward, and it takes everything I have just to keep up. As the terrain changed, so did his mood. The landscape is no longer the black sandy beach, now it is a frozen tundra. Frost covers everything. It even clings to my skin and hair. The cold sets deep in my bones, and I keep my arms wrapped around me as the wind lashes at my face.

  Everything here looks dead, leaving an ominous feeling stuck in my gut. Black skeletal tress huddle together in clusters while brown patches of grass grip at my tights, ripping more holes in them. Large stones jut out of the ground every few feet, making us navigate around them, only to find another. My boots slip over the dark blue pebbles scattered everywhere, but they offer the only color in this dead landscape.

  This is a strange world I’m in. Creatures that bleed black, boys who look completely normal but are some sort of mystical creatures. I narrow my eyes at Jaxson, examining the back of his head, trying to see the difference between him and a normal high school boy. Despite the eyes that change with his mood, I don’t see anything that drastically different. He looks like a typical temperamental, sarcastic teenage boy. His long dark hair hangs in his face, skinny jeans, piercings, and tattoos. I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup of paranormal creatures if my life depended on it. Funny, I would pick Buck out as being a troll. Hmmm, I wonder.

  “You’re staring,”

  Oh yeah, there’s also that weird elfy intuition of his. “I wasn’t.” I trip over another rock. “Rrrrrr,” I growl at it. “Stupid rocks.” My voice rises. “I’ve about had it. I don’t know what weird elf boot camp you attended, but I need a break. I’m starving, and now my foot is throbbing. My daily workout routine consists of turning a page and reaching for the next Oreo cookie in the pack. Not hiking up Mount Everest.”

  “We can’t stop. We have to keep going.”

  I sit down on one of the stones and watch him walk away. I’m done. Let him go. I don’t care. Let that lizard creature or Cardelian find me.

  He stops, his back going rigid. “You need to get up!” he snarls, spinning on his heels.

  That’s it. I’m not about to take any more of his moody crap. I am sick of it. I glare at him—a look I have mastered giving to Buck. “Excuse me! You have another thing coming if you think you can just boss me around. I’m not going to take it. No, sir. Women have made huge leaps and bounds, and I’m not about to set us back centuries by listening to you like I’m some sort of puppy that will obey your demands.”

  He narrows his eyes at me, and I am ready for a fight, so I try again but a little softer this time.

  “Maybe you can march on like a soldier, but I am hungry and cold, and have been through hell.”

  His eyes lighten and his shoulders relax slightly.

  “We can rest for a moment, but then we must keep going. It is not safe.”

  He takes off his bow, and he sits down on the ground across from me. I stare at the weapon. It looks dangerous with its black glass body and quivers with golden feathers.

  Jaxson leans back against one of the stones and closes his eyes. I stare at him for a moment before I flop back on my back the sky changes between various shades of blue ending in a midnight blue. I watch it for a while, but it only reminds me of Jaxson’s eyes. I try to remind myself of what I should be focused on—like getting home and not breaking my ankle in the process. Yet guilt of what I did to him creeps back into my mind. He hasn’t brought it up, acting like it never happened, but it swells
between us like a balloon, making me want to scream.

  “Thank you,” I blurt. “Thank you for helping me, for giving me that medicine. Thanks for coming after me. I still don’t trust you, but thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  And we are silent again. I shut my eyes, wishing I was back home. I’m sure Essie has already notified the police that I’m missing. My stomach rumbles so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.

  “I don’t suppose Faeylon has any fast-food restaurants?”

  He snorts. “Not likely.”

  “I need food and rest,” I complain again.

  He goes silent again, which just annoys me. The silence stretches between us until I want to scream.

  “Don’t you feel anything? Hungry, scared, happy, annoyed, mad? Anything?”

  “It makes no difference what I feel.” He shrugs.

  I blow out an exasperated breath. “Well, it would make me feel a little better about this whole situation if you felt something,” I mumble under my breath.

  “How about, I feel it’s time to move?” He grabs his bow and stands.

  I am alone and scared, and I don’t know what I am walking into, what he could be leading me to, but I have no choice but to follow him. It feels like he is leading me to my doom.

  “I don’t understand why you dislike me so much.” I fold my arms protectively across my chest.

  He glares at me, his cold eyes holding animosity in them. They change from the pale blue shade to the bright glowing blue.

  “Is that what you think? That I don’t like you?” he asks in a mocking tone.

  I study his sharp features, his full lips that I can’t help wanting to feel with my own. “You’re doing a very good job of covering it up. I know when someone dislikes me. Trust me, I’ve had enough experience. Remember, I’m a freak.” I feel lightheaded from the need to defend myself, and it mixes with a yearning I don’t want to admit.

  He laughs. “You just learned that I’m an elf, yet you still believe that you’re the freak.” He shakes his head and steps closer to me. I jerk away from him as he brushes back a piece of hair from my face and cold electricity shoots through me where he touches.

  “I’m trying to save you, and you’re making it difficult.” He says still touching me.

  I have the urge to capture him like this, a picture in time of the boy that has the power to make me feel this way. It’s like the first time riding a roller coaster. The anticipation of what is going to happen next. A ride I want to last forever, but I know all too soon, it will come to an abrupt halt, leaving my heart racing and my legs shaking. Jaxson is my very own personal thrill ride, and I’m not sure what is over the next incline.

  He looks like a character from an anime novel—a dark prince, a warrior. The leather cord of the necklace he gave me days ago is looped tightly around his neck, and the stone sits perfectly in the hollow of it. He must have picked it up when Cardelian threw it at him.

  My chest aches to go back to the time when I admired him from afar as he sat in the back of class hunched over his drawings. His eyes are lit up as he watches me studying him. A lock of raven hair falls into them, blocking my view of the window into his world. My hand itches at my side to push it back, to run my hand through the soft layers. I grip my skirt instead to stop myself, squeezing the soft materiel so tightly that I’m sure I will rip it.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  “How I didn’t see that you were different,” I admit.

  “That’s because you choose to see people for what they are and not their labels.”

  My cheeks are on fire. “Do I do that?”

  “Yes.”

  He reaches for my hand, and I let him help me to my feet. Snow falls from my hair onto my shoulder, slowly melting where it lands. He watches it dissolve on my skin, and the way he looks at it so contently, warms my skin and makes my whole body hot and tingly. I shiver as he steps closer to me, and I feel small compared to him. He towers over me, his long, dark hair falling into his face.

  “What are you doing?” I squeak. I wish my voice was steady and not shaky, giving away the bundle of nerves I am. It’s like he personally wound me up and now he is cruelly toying with me.

  “Something I should have done a long time ago.” His voice is dark and perilous.

  My heart races like I’m his prey, cornered and afraid of what he is going to do. As if he can sense my fear, he backs me up until I cannot go any farther, pressing me against the boulder behind me. He has me frozen under his dark gaze; my heart is races like I’m his prey. It would be a miracle if he didn’t hear it, but that doesn’t matter.

  “Jaxson.” His name comes out in a whisper.

  He leans down into my neck, his hot breath tickles at my pulse. I grasp the boulder for support, but my hands slide down the slick, wet surface. The sweet smell of him fills me, making me dizzy and unsteady like I’m in a dream. My breath comes out labored, mixing with my fear and anticipation of what is going to happen next. I close my eyes.

  This is what I have wanted.

  His hand goes to my shoulder, tugging the fabric aside, and my eyes fly open. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to check your wounds to see if they are healing,” he says.

  “Oh.” I let out a nervous laugh. Of course, he wasn’t going to kiss me. Why would he?

  “They are healing nicely.”

  He traces them, causing a twinge of pain to mix with the pleasure from his touch, and I have to bite back a moan. When he’s satisfied that I’m healing, he lets go of my sweater and takes a step back.

  “What about you?” I ask.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Regardless of his dismissal, I reach for him, and he goes still. He tilts his head to the side, allowing me to examine his wounds. I swallow hard, and standing on my tiptoes, I move the fabric away from his neck. His pale skin is like touching ice—hard, smooth, and cool. I let my finger trail the thin silver line at the base of his neck. Even though he is healed, I’m the one that caused it. I feel dizzy and sick that I could have done that. I grip his shoulder tightly for support.

  “I didn’t mean to …” Tears sting the corner of my eyes.

  He steadies my elbows. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “How can you say that? I hurt you. I was just so scared.”

  “And you are not anymore?” he asks.

  “I’m terrified.” I shake my head.

  He suddenly looks tired and sad. “Come on, we need to find shelter before night falls.”

  He steps away from me, and I can feel the distance between us grow. I follow without another word.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  We make it to the base of the cliff of ice where another cave waits for us to enter. At first, I hesitate on going inside, since the last time I was in a cave I was almost an appetizer. But a thick darkness begins to blanket everything around us.

  “Trust me what waits for us out here in the dark is far worse than what might be lurking inside,” Jaxson assures me.

  The cave swallows us in darkness, the only light comes from the glow of Jaxson’s eyes illuminating the walls of ice. As we make our way through, the terrain of the floor changes every few feet, making it difficult to navigate through. In places, the cave grows into large endless rooms and in others, it became so tight that we have to get on our hands and knees and crawl through. Ice drips from stalactite that decorates the ceiling.

  We stop in a narrow part of the cave. Where we can see what is coming in and what is going. I sit down, my legs stretched out in front of me. “I have never walked so much in my life,” I complain.

  Jaxson leans his head against the blue sheet of ice behind him, his hands rest on his knees. I pull my knees to my chest, shivering not only form the cold but from everything that has happened and start to cry. I want to curl into myself like when I was a little kid and have my dad wrap his protective arms around me and tell me everything will be okay, but that is not going to hap
pen. I want to wake up from this nightmare and be back in my bed, back to my life.

  “Your cold.” Jaxson voice barely a whisper.

  I don’t bother hiding the fact that I’m crying when I look up at him from with red-rimmed eyes. “I want to go home.” I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand.

  He drags in a ragged breath, looking weary and defeated—all of his usual cockiness gone. It makes him look younger, perhaps his rightful age.

  “I’m going to get you home, Ace, I promise.” He unzips his sweatshirt, the one he always wears and tosses a heap next to me. “I almost forgot how cold it can get here,” he says.

  It’s a peace offering from him, so I pick it up and hold it in my hand. It’s a small comfort in this cruel, unknown world. I turn it over, examining it. There is a small rip in the cuff and it smells like him—the sweet metallic scent of snow mixed with pine. I want to bring it to my nose and breathe it all in. My heart constricts at the thought of having something that is a part of him this close to me.

  “What about you? You will be cold.”

  “The cold does not affect me the same way it does humans,” he shrugs.

  “Another elf thing?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Something like that.”

  I pull the sweater over my head, and despite it not being very thick, it offers some warmth from the elements. I stare at him for a little longer. His head is tilted back, gazing up at the ice that surrounds us. We are closed off from the rest of the world, and it’s almost hard to think that right outside of these thick walls of ice, another one exist.

  I am beginning to see him for what he really is. His eyes glow bright, illuminating the small space in blue. What does it mean to be an elf? Did he go to school? Have a first kiss? I try to imagine him as a little kid growing up in a place like this, but none of it seems real.