Dark and Twisted

by Heidi Acosta

  “You grew up here?” I ask.

  “No, Ace, I didn’t grow up in a cave.” The corner of his mouth twitches.

  “I know that! I mean here in this land.”

  “Then, yes, unfortunately, this wasteland was my home.” He sighs.

  “Was?”

  “Greeting cards lie. You cannot always go home. Once you leave Eyce, you do not return so easily.”

  I don’t know what to say to him. I want to ask him why and what happened to make him leave in the first place. “And Abby grew up…in the City of Night?” I hesitate, trying to make sense of this new world.

  “But you knew her as a child? And Cardelian?”

  He is silent for a moment. “Yes, we were children together. We came together during summers, as most of the court children do or did. It’s how alliances are created between the lands of Faeylon.”

  “Wait, oh, my gosh, did you just say court? Like in you are some sort of faerie prince.”

  He cringes. “Elf. Elf prince. But I’m no longer a prince. When I left, I gave up that title.”

  Even in this light, I can see the flush in his cheeks. I shake my head in disbelief. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. It just doesn’t seem real, you being …” I can’t bring myself to say it. Me, the girl who writes stories about girls that fall in love with zombies. Me, the book nerd who devours paranormal books like they are gummy bears.

  “Elfin,” he says with a hint of amusement.

  “What about this? What is it?” I pull my sleeve up, revealing the mark that Cardelian burned.

  He cringes a little. “It was a protection spell. Remember when I painted the frost on your skin in your dream?” he mutters.

  “I remember,” I say a little breathless at the memory of how carefully he touched me. I swallow hard. “This is the stuff from books. Spells, elves, faeries … they don’t exist.” I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Oh, my God, when a human says that a faerie doesn’t exist, do they die? Because I believe.”

  Now the look of amusement on his face is obvious. “This isn’t a children’s book, and no fae died because you said that.”

  I have a million questions that burn inside of me, but instead, I ask him the other thing that has been haunting me. “Jaxson, what happened to Juliet? Did you …”

  “Did I kill her?”

  I cringe from the sharpness of his voice a sudden mood change, but I nod my head yes.

  “I didn’t physically have anything to do with it, but I might as well have been the one that brought her to her death.”

  I shiver. So she is dead.

  “I tried to help her. She was being drained, but she didn’t want help. I thought that maybe, this time, Cardelian was just having a little fun and that he wouldn’t take it as far,” he says, his voice hoarse and tired.

  “Drained?” I shiver.

  “There are some things that are crueler than death.”

  My heart constricts.

  “If I would have listened to Abby in the first place, none of this would be happening now. She didn’t want to stick with Cardelian when we arrived, but I insisted he was different. I was wrong.”

  It’s hard to believe the girl I saw a few days ago would be capable of having such a conversation.

  “He was hurting her, and I was pretending we were all such good friends.”

  Pain etches deep into his face, and it makes my body ache for him. I wish I could take his hurt away and make it mine. I scoot across the short distance between us as a strong desire to comfort him burns deep inside of me. Siting on my knees between his legs, I dig my fingers into the frozen muddy gravel below me to keep from touching him. The light in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with grief that makes me ache for him.

  “Jaxson, what happened to Abby, to Juliet, to me, it’s not your fault.”

  His eyes bore into mine. “You would not say that if you knew the things he did to Abby. The things that I’m capable of. I’m a monster.”

  I can see the self-loathing vibrating off him. This goes much deeper than normal teenage angst. He hates his true self, not the sarcastic, rebellious teenage boy, but a paranormal creature that lives inside of him.

  “What exactly are you?”

  “I already told you.” He tosses a pebble against the wall and watches it bounce to the ground.

  “I know what you are, but what can you do? I want to see what you really are.”

  He tosses another stone, glaring at the wall. I see it’s going to take a little nudge to get him to open up.

  “Like … do you make shoes in the middle of the night or bake cookies in a tree?”

  “Not exactly,” he lets out a short laugh. Picking up another stone, he tosses it in the air between us. Instead of dropping to the ground as the others, it hovers there, turning over, encased in blue light.

  “Whoa,” is all I can say as I stare at it.

  I look up at Jaxson, and his eyes are brighter. He lets the stone drop and his eyes flicker.

  “That’s not all I can do.”

  His voice is hushed filling my stomach with a thousand butterflies. He holds out his hand to me, and I cautiously place my hand in his. With his other hand, he pushes up my sleeve, revealing the angry burn that Cardelian inflicted on me. I flinch when he touches it, but he gently begins to trace over the pattern. Where he touches, my arm lights up, and a cold burning sinks into my skin as the blistering disappears. A noise between a whimper and a moan slips out of my mouth. The burn cools, and my skin feels charged with electricity, but there is more than just an electric sensation.

  Something passes between us, all the emotion I have ever felt is transferred to him, and I know he can feel all of my happiness, sadness, hopes and dreams, and I know his. It fills me until I feel like I might explode. He stops tracing the mark, his eyes no longer glowing, but he still grips my wrist in his hand. His chest rises and falls with mine. He is not just an elf. He is a boy. A boy that I like, who is confused and battling demons on the inside just like everyone else.

  My words tumble out in a hurry. “I don’t think you are a monster. I think you are remarkable. What you can do—”

  Before I can continue rambling, he pulls me close to him so that I sit between his knees, chest to chest. His heart beats hard against my ribs. I let out a small gasp at his closeness.

  “You would not say that if you knew what I truly could do.” His voice is a husky whisper, holding so much more meaning behind it than the actual words.

  I dig my fingers into the gravel until I feel the sharp stones push under my nails, and my body is shaking. His hand finds my face, cupping my cheek as his thumb runs across the top of it, and then down the line of my jaw, stopping on my bottom lip. His thumb lingers there. My body is at war. It is on fire with desire that is as cold as ice as it dances along my skin from his touch. Every part of me is screaming for him to continue his exploration, to keep touching me, to kiss me, but he doesn’t make any further movement. He stares, transfixed on my mouth until I can no longer take the tension and anticipation.

  I sit up on my knees, hovering just slightly above him, and lean in,pressing my lips to his. A million fireworks explode in my chest as every feeling that I have ever felt or have ever wanted to feel pulsates through me. I press into him, closing any space between us. My fingers trace his face and his hands make their way to my hair, weaving his fingers into the strands. The studs in his bottom lip dig into mine, and little shots of pleasure, mixed with pain, move through me. His hands move agonizingly slow across my shoulder, then down my back to press me even closer.

  My hands travel across his body, memorizing every part of him, every ripple. I wrap my arms around his neck. His kisses are feverish and desperate, holding all the emotions he was afraid to show me. I don’t think I’ll ever have the strength to let go of him again. This is what stories are made of, this is what the great writers attempt to capture when they try to recreate moments like this, but there’s no way they could ever do it justice.
I could never rewrite what is happening right now. My toes curl, and I am filled with a mixture of dread and love that flows through me into him. I feel like I can die at this very moment and be completely content.

  Jaxson is the one to break the kiss, and he presses his forehead to mine. My head spins as I to gasp for air. My whole body is on fire, burning in places I didn’t think was possible.

  “I have wanted to do that since the first day I saw you,” he whispers against my lips.

  I look up at him through thick lashes. He has dirt smeared on his cheeks where my fingers brushed against his fair skin, and his hair is a mess from where I ran my hands through it. His eyes make me feel weak. What I had mistaken for a look of disdain is not. How could I not see the hunger and desperation in them?

  “I always thought you didn’t like me,” I admit.

  He pulls me down to him, and I fold perfectly into his arms. I grip his damp shirt, which clings to his chest, as he twirls a piece of my hair lazily around his finger.

  “I figured if I showed no interest in you, Cardelian would leave you alone, but I was wrong. Your aura is too bright for him to ignore.”

  “My aura? What does that have to do with anything?” I snuggle deeper into him, momentarily forgetting my fear of what monsters might lurk within these walls.

  “All humans have a color to their auras. Some are one solid hue, others are a murky brown color, and a few, like yours, are bright, like a rainbow,” he explains.

  “So Cardelian wanted me because I look like a rainbow?”

  He nods. “Pretty much. Auras are like a window into your soul. The purer the soul, the cleaner the colors. They make our magic stronger.”

  I shake my head. “I still don’t understand,” I admit.

  “When Cardelian fed off Juliet, he became more powerful. He was able to tap into her soul to feed off it. Magic is addicting, and with it comes a steep price. Juliet was the one to pay the price.”

  My stomach goes sour. “And with me, if he fed off me, what price would I have paid?”

  “I would never let that happen,” he declares with vehemence.

  His arms tighten protectively around me, and I believe him. We are quiet for a while when I suddenly let out a little laugh, breaking the silence.

  “What?” he asks.

  “It took me being kidnapped into another world for you to kiss me. I know I’m a freak, but you couldn’t just kiss me … say, at my locker?

  “I can be an idiot sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?”

  “Okay, a lot of the time. I wish I did it sooner, I wish that none of this happened, Ace. You have to believe me,” he says with desperation.

  “I believe you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Everything is a deep blue, like the sky, and silent. The only sound is the beating of my heart. A steady thump, thump, thump. Soft, white snowflakes fall to the ground around me. I want to kick out my legs and make a snow angel like I used to do when I was a child.

  “Eden …” he calls.

  My chest warms at the sound of him. I want to see him, to feel him again. A yearning erupts from deep inside of me. I sit up, and search for him, but there is nothing except vast white snow and ice.

  “Eden.”

  This time, his voice comes from behind me. I turn to face Jaxson, but he is different. He is not the Jaxson I know. His eyes are as black as night, a dark contrast against his pale white skin. His chest is bare, and he wears a pair of loose fitting jeans that set low on his hips. A charcoal black tattoo of a tree climbs up his chest. Its skeletal thin branches twist down his arms, reaching to the tips of each fingertip. A pair of black wings juts out behind him. Black as raven wings, changing from a solid form into pillars of black smoke every time they move. He descends toward me with a purpose. His face is blank and unreadable.

  “Jaxson,” I call his name once more, but he doesn’t respond.

  Raising his bow, he aims it at me. I scream just as he releases it.

  I wake, the scream still lingering on my lips.

  Jaxson bolts up, reaching for the bow that lays at his side. “Eden, what’s wrong?” He touches me, but I jerk away. “Eden?” he questions me cautiously.

  I stare at him. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are squinty from sleep. There are no wings behind him, no arrow pointed at me.

  “It was a dream, you were there, but it wasn’t really you. Your eyes were black, and you had wings made out of smoke, and you …” I look at the bow in his hand.

  He clutches it harder, his fingers turning white. “I would never want to hurt you.” He runs a hand down his face.

  “I know that,” I whisper before crawling back over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “It was just a dream.” I bury my face into his shirt.

  “Dreams have a way of coming true,” he says.

  I shudder, all too aware of the truth.

  He stands up and steps away from me. “We need to start moving.”

  I ignore the little flutter of hurt as I watch him sling the bow over his back.

  ###

  The cave goes on for miles with no end in sight. Jaxson leads the way, and I manage to stumble every so often over my own feet. Telling Jaxson about my dream turned him back into a silent a soldier, and he marches ahead without looking back at me once.

  All the silence between us makes me think of last night. I run my finger lightly across my bottom lip, warmth blossoming in the pit of my stomach. Kissing him was different than anything I have ever felt. Each time felt desperate and final as if it was our first and last.

  Now I’m beginning to think that they were. The warmth is replaced with a tight pain in my chest. I never did understand why the boys Liv broke up with acted like their life was over. They seemed so desperate to win her back. I get it now. I’m starting to understand the feeling of being so fragile without that other person that you might shatter at any moment. I’m frantic for a sign from Jaxson, anything to tell me last night meant something to him or that he regrets every last kiss. Just give me something. But he just walks on, leaving me staring at his back, all alone with my emotional turmoil.

  My mind wonders back to home. I have been gone for a little over twenty-—four hours already. Has a missing person’s report been filed on me? I wonder how Essie is dealing. Does she think I was abducted by Aliens?

  “Oh, my God,” I croak.

  Jaxson spins his bow off his back, an arrow at the ready. “Eden, what is it?” Worry laces his voice.

  “She isn’t crazy.”

  He lowers his bow, frowning. “Who?” He relaxes a bit, but still clutches the weapon.

  “Essie. She is not crazy. All this time, everyone, including me, thought she was, but she must have been taken by Faeries. She has been here before. I can’t believe it. It all makes sense now. Holy crow. It wasn’t aliens. She was here in Faeylon. All those years of being accused of being crazy, she wasn’t. She was only wrong about one thing. Aliens didn’t abduct her. It was Faeries.”

  I let out a laugh of excitement, but Jaxson doesn’t seem too convinced about my theory.

  “Perhaps,” he says cautiously. “Entering Faeylon is easy. It’s the leaving that one must pay a price for.”

  I shake my head, brushing his words aside. “When she was fifteen, she went missing for two weeks. When she came back, she claimed she was abducted by aliens, but now I know she wasn’t. What happened to her here? How did she get home?” My head swims with questions.

  “I’m not sure, but if she was here, she had help,” Jaxson says.

  “Who do you think it was? Maybe they can help us.” I ignore him and ramble, excited with this new piece of information.

  “No one will help us without paying a price. I will get you home,” he says curtly.

  I look at him for a moment. What makes him so sure we can’t trust someone else? Surely, not everyone in this realm is like Cardelian.

  Jaxson sighs and closes his eyes. “Faeylon is a complicat
ed world. Most of it is cruel and horrible, but there are exceptions to some,” he says as if that explains everything.

  Why isn’t he more excited about this? Doesn’t he get it, whoever helped Essie might be able to help us too?

  “Jaxson, why did you leave?” I ask.

  “My father. I left because of my father. Like I said, nothing is simple in Faeylon.”

  “But maybe we can go to him? He would understand. He could help us home.”

  “He will never help me.” He reaches for my hand and interlaces our fingers together.

  His long fingers brush the back of my wrist, and where he touches the cold spark is back, running through me. I’m both relieved and confused. “Jaxson, he is your father, whatever happened between you can be forgiven.”

  He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my thumb before moving to my other fingers. My eyes automatically flutter shut, and I have to force my legs to remain solid under me.

  “Some things cannot be forgiven. When I was nine years old, my mother and sister were killed.”

  My eyes spring open. I know how he feels. The pain of losing a parent, the ever present ache of missing them. “Jaxson, I’m so sorry.”

  He shakes his head. “I was there when they died. I hid and watched like a coward while they were slaughtered by magic seekers. My father was enraged that I did nothing. He believes it was my fault they died.”

  He releases my hand, and I feel the distance between us again. “But you were just a little kid, you could have been killed.” No wonder he seems so cold and distant. He has been living with the guilt of his mother and sister’s death all these years. I want to tell him I understand, but I don’t, not really. People die every day in car accidents, but being murdered is something entirely different.

  “If I’d died trying to avenge my mother and sister, my father would have celebrated my death. I would have been a hero. Instead, I dishonored him. I’m a constant reminder to him of what a coward I was. If he could have disowned me, he would have. So I made it easy for him by leaving.” He looks off, keeping his head turned away from me.