House of Slide Hybrid

by Juliann Whicker

“Now,” he began as he dragged me into the dance, not bothering to move in time with the music. “It’s the height of bad manners to examine other people’s souls. Don’t do it.”

  “Do you have to step on my toes every step? Maybe you could do every other,” I said, scowling at him. I wanted to dance with Lewis, not my trainer, however helpful he was with leaning.

  “Which is why you shouldn’t wear delicate slippers until training is completed,” he sneered as he pulled me along in his warped version of a waltz.

  “How did you know that I was looking at your soul? I didn’t touch it.”

  He shuddered before he gave a long suffering sigh. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part. Everyone can tell when you look at their soul, it’s like someone opening a door and letting a wind blow through after a cold bath. Some people don’t know what it is but every trained Wild should be able to recognize it.”

  “How lucky for me that my Trainer is so illustrious and wise.”

  “And you just stepped on my foot.”

  “Revenge is sweet. Why are you so old?”

  “Why are you so young? It’s strange isn’t it, to see someone who isn’t afraid of age. Your father is probably the oldest one here, except for the Hybrid lurking around the edges, he’s fairly ancient, but here I am, younger than most looking practically forty.”

  “You look way older than forty. You don’t even try to blend in.”

  He frowned at me. “I am different, as are you. We are not Wilds with their Houses and Runes who live to play the game. We are outside.”

  “Says someone who has not one but two Houses and Runes and who if I’m not mistaken, plays the game better than anyone else. If that’s outside, let me in.”

  He laughed, a strange sound that I’d never heard from him, like he’d hadn’t meant to let a laugh slip out. When he smiled like that, his whole demeanor changed. Instead of surly, ugly bordering on hideous, he became fascinating, compelling, and embarrassingly attractive.

  I pulled away from him until his normal scowl covered his features and the fleeting impression faded.

  “How did you do that?”

  He flicked a glance to my face before he looked away, in the direction of my mother. She stood on the edge of the crowd gazing at him with a peculiar expression, concern for him or for me I wasn’t certain.

  “Did you lean me, or are you leaning me now, or…”

  He sighed, a long drawn out sound as he unconsciously spun me out in time to the music. He’d forgotten to be a bad dancer. My trainer was completely bizarre.

  “You’ve found my Achilles heel. I am too attractive for my own good. I only became Head of two Houses to keep women from pursuing me.”

  “Head of Houses are very eligible,” I objected.

  He sighed again. “No one told me that before it was too late.”

  I frowned at him, trying to see him, to understand what made him tick.

  “Do you love my mother?”

  His eyes flashed at me. “Of course. My hopeless adoration of her is the only thing between me and countless imbecilic Daughters like yourself.”

  “Okay? Never mind. I probably do not really want to know, anyway. My mother is very beautiful, and lonely. I don’t understand her. Why don’t they get divorced? I suppose they still love each other, but what’s the point of love if nothing ever comes from it?”

  “Not nothing,” he said, looking at me with an intense focus that made me forget about the ugly. “Besides you and your brother, he’s given her a life here, peace, safety, security. These are not small things in a world where everything teeters so precariously on the brink of chaos.”

  “For someone who is supposed to be in love with my mother, you don’t sound very resentful of him.”

  His mouth twisted into the sardonic smile I’d become accustomed to. “I resent the entire world, particularly this band. Is this what they call music these days?”

  “Mother told me that you were a musician. That must be why you dance so well. You have music in your veins.”

  He grinned, that same flash of brilliance that made me look away from him, uncomfortable. He wore ugly like a mask, using it as a tool in his already bewildering arsenal. He reminded me of Lewis, hiding behind layers of identity.

  “Who are you?”

  “Other than your trainer? Carve, Head of the notorious House Carve across the fair sea as well as De La Croix.” He leaned his head against mine for an instant and I was left with an impression, the knowledge of where his house was down south, in the swamps of Louisiana.

  I pulled away from him, hating that he’d been in my head if only for a moment.

  “See? Very bad manners,” he said with a sneer that I ignored along with the shocking invasion of my mind.

  “Matthew,” my mother’s icy voice said, quietly, but so piercing and with so many undercurrents to it that I wasn’t sure what she felt, only that she did feel, in spite of the coldness of her tone, perhaps because of it.

  Matthew stopped moving, feeling as suddenly stiff and paralyzed as he’d made me.

  “Why don’t we trade partners,” Lewis offered, his voice smooth and pleasant on the surface but with something much different underneath. There was a threat in his voice, a threat that I knew as a burned out Axel he probably couldn’t carry out.

  I felt relieved when Matthew dropped my hands and I pulled Lewis to me, where we could dance as we were made to.

  I glanced back at my mother and Matthew where they stood stock still, staring at each other like they were having an entire conversation in that one look that no one else could understand.

  “Dari, we have to talk,” Lewis said, frowning at the people around me instead of looking directly at me.

  “About the bond?” My heart raced as I looked at his throat, at the smooth skin that covered the thumping live pulse I craved. I slid a hand up his arm to trace the skin above his white collar.

  He caught my hand in his, turning me under his arm in a move that seemed practiced before I was once again against his chest. “That and other things. Perhaps we could go on a short walk after the toasting.”

  I nodded, wondering if the short walk would end with his blood beating in my veins. The burning in my fingers spread through the rest of me until my whole body thrummed in time to it as I leaned back, gazing up at him. I heard a laugh, a sharp sound that cracked through my focus of Lewis. When I turned my head I saw Snowy, standing with her arms across her chest with an angry smile on her mouth while Smoke leaned over her, talking, waving his arms, trying to convince her of something while she stood unbudging. The Code. Even if Lewis was already burned out, it was too risky to break the Code. I shouldn’t be so close to Lewis, not if he was willing to be mine.

  I took a deep breath as I got ready to pull away from him, to tell him that until we established a marriage date we shouldn’t dance like that. Marriage. On the other side of Lewis I saw my mother and my trainer, standing where I’d left them, still caught in that wordless conversation while my father stood across the grass, nodding at ancient Mrs. Partle, the school counselor who was apparently in the know. Was I ready for that kind of commitment when the chances of happiness were so slim?

  I looked up at Lewis, starting with his firm jaw, traveling up his expressive mouth, smooth planes of cheek to the eyes where they gazed at me beneath dark brows. His eyes spoke to me the way words never could, of forever, protection, desire, and something soft, something gentle that made my heart float even higher, catching in my throat along with the bond ache.

  Yes. I wanted that commitment, had wanted it the moment I’d seen him after he’d torched Samaliel. I wanted to be able to be with him without threatening him, wanted to be with him and figure out who he was at the same time I discovered myself. There was so much I didn’t know, so few things I knew, but one thing stood out in sharp contrast to all the fuzzy wishes. I wanted Lewis.

  “Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘get a room’?” Snowy’s voice broke
through my thoughts and I wondered in confusion how she’d gotten there so fast. “I think in nearly every case, it’s a good thing that you didn’t.” She gave me a bright smile that matched her eyes, too bright, too much emotion without any way to express it. I had an idea that Snowy would have very much liked to shoot something just then. “Everyone’s here. It’s time for toasting and whatever else happens at these things. Have you been to a lot of them?” She asked Lewis as she subtly took my arm and pulled me away from him.

  I resisted but Lewis stepped away from me, leaving me with Snowy as he gave me an easy smile while his eyes showed nothing, back to being as Wild as the rest of them. I linked my arm with Snowy, feeling her misery as she tugged me towards the tables and tents past dozens of beautifully dressed people dancing around, laughing, eating, and I felt like I actually knew most of them. Mr. Landon, the art teacher stood talking with my tattoo artist like they were friends. The band took a break and a group of old men settled into their places, old men from Sanders with a motley of instruments. I watched for a moment the accordion player who I thought was the guy who owned the hardware store. It was actually pretty cool, not Wild at all. I saw a gorgeous Wild ignoring the oh-so-cool band guy who was doing his best to impress her with his hair or condescending single syllable utterances.

  Ash stood by my father, looking like a practical stranger with his height and long hair, like a slightly shorter version of my dad. He smiled when he saw me then lifted his glass, dark green liquid swirling like Spring. I tried hard not to notice Lewis, behind me, watching me with a gaze I could feel that made me want to turn and move close enough that his hands could touch where his eyes had been.

  Instead I stood between my parents as the old guys stopped playing then listened to the toasts that were all over the place from flat embarrassing like when my mother lifted her glass and expressed her happiness that I had achieved this milestone but how important it was to realize that I wasn’t yet independent enough to make life choices with long range consequences, all while she fixed Lewis with a cold glare that he returned with a smile, to typical Satan who raised his glass and said what everyone was thinking.

  “To Dari, who isn’t dead yet!”

  I lifted my glass and drained it. It wasn’t Autumn, wasn’t Spring, was something sharp and at the same time mellow that reminded me of things swelling, growing, ripening. It was Summer I realized, the taste of grain fattening on the stalk, of ripe fruit fallen in the orchard. I lowered my glass and saw Lewis, watching me, staring at me in a way that made my heart lurch, while the taste on my tongue mixed with the bond ache in my throat, the bond that needed completion.

  Soon we would walk in the night, and he would have things to say, things that might echo my dream, might be a proposal. I shivered as I thought about him proposing, dropping on a knee and not because he was half dead.

  The night proceeded strangely after that, the awareness of Lewis as he moved across the yard from me, always apart from me, always perfectly charming as he smiled and spoke to those who congratulated him on his Intended surviving tattoos. He was part of this, as my Intended, he had a role to play as vital as my tattoo artist who managed to look smug while people praised her ability to keep me alive.

  “Let’s dance,” Smoke said coming out of nowhere, taking my glass from me before I could protest. He had a nervous energy as he moved, even more keyed up than usual.

  “Um,” I said as he ditched my Summer on a table and grabbed my hand. I didn’t want to dance with Smoke if it would hurt Snowy, but he wasn’t making it easy to say no, not when he already had me in the middle of the floor.

  “So, this party is great,” he said with slightly gritted teeth.

  “Yeah. You look nice.” He did, or he had when the party had first started but he’d abandoned his jacket and tie and you could see the t shirt with a dragon on it that he wore under his mostly unbuttoned white shirt.

  “You too,” he said tersely, moving me without his usual relaxed groove.

  “I’m sorry,” I said with a wince as I felt a particularly strong current of pain from him. Emotional pain was the worst.

  “She doesn’t realize that I can’t do it again,” he said with a frown that looked more hurt than angry, although there was anger too. “It’s worse now that there’s no Devlin to blame. I know I’m goofy and impetuous, but she needs that. I could have sworn after the Valentine’s dance that we would make it, you know, whatever happened, and then bam. She won’t talk to me, won’t answer my calls, won’t look at me. It’s like before only, I don’t know, sometimes I could swear that she’s still into me. Vain, right?” He laughed, a tortured sound that made me squeeze his arm.

  “You can still blame Devlin all you want.” It was supposed to be a nice thing to say but he looked like I slapped him.

  “What do you mean? You think she’s still in love with your brother and…”

  “No, no.” I cut him off. “She can’t break the Code with you or you’ll become Demon fodder, at least that’s what Devlin said. She doesn’t want to not kiss you so much that she can’t kiss you at all because she doesn’t want to stop. See?”

  He got a weird light in his eyes and I realized that I might not have said the best thing.

  “She’s not being with me to protect me?” He grinned then, and I wondered if he was going to throw back his head and do some crazy war whooping, but he only smiled and got an almost cunning look on his face.

  “You should stop talking to her, make it easier for her to do what she thinks she should do. It’s hard for her. Otherwise you’ll have to marry her so you can do...whatever.” I blushed there. “Without breaking the Code.”

  He frowned then, and I felt a little more than stupid. People didn’t think about marriage before they were more experienced. Smoke didn’t look intimidated by the idea though. Instead he nodded thoughtfully.

  “I could start with that, I mean,” he said with a shrug. “Marriage? Why not? Snowy wouldn’t do that kind of thing without the world’s longest list of why she possibly should. She’s way too rational, but maybe I could talk her, no, talk isn’t the right word.” He grinned again, a grin that was crazy, scared, and hopeful. Then he kissed me; right on the mouth in a whirling dip before he dashed off, leaving me on the floor to stare after him. At least I hadn’t sucked his soul out.

  Lewis coughed behind me, getting my attention, reminding me about the walk and the talk that we were going to have. I caught his hand in mine, tangling our fingers together as I looked at him, so happy to see him with color to his face even if he wore his Wild mask, blocking any emotion. I really hoped he didn’t mind Smoke kissing me like that.

  The wind blew from the woods bringing with it the deep scent of mud, moss, and all the other scents of spring that they don’t have at the floral shop. I shivered as we stood on the edge of the crowd, noticing how dark it was in the woods, how bright the party was, how many people I really liked and who maybe liked me back.

  I took a deep breath as we stepped away from the circle of light, into the darkness.

  Chapter 19

  I felt my heart pound as we walked, hands entwined and thought that his heart must be pounding too. The trees swallowed us, black and black compared to the bright party. The people and the music faded quickly as we took step by slow step away from everyone. I forced myself to loosen the grip on his hand, sure that his fingers needed some circulation. I could feel the calluses on his palms, the strength of his hand as he held mine, gently, but when I’d tried to pull away his fingers didn’t give me a centimeter. We walked for only a few minutes before it was so dark, so still except for the rustling of branches and the distant murmuring of my guests.

  He slowed, looking around for somewhere suitable, maybe where he could kneel down without getting his suit too muddy. Would he ask to complete the bond from his knees like a proposal? A marriage proposal with a completed bond? I couldn’t breathe.

  There was a pale tree trunk I could make out in the dim light wher
e Lewis led me, dropping my hand for a moment while he took me around the waist and lifted me to the top of the trunk, like I couldn’t have scrambled up by myself, but it might have ruined my tights. He leaned against it, gazing up at me with serious eyes.

  I wasn’t sure where to put my hands. Torn between putting one on his hand or face, I settled for primly folding them on my enchanting skirt, thinking that it was a definite fairy tale skirt for a fairy tale night with my prince charming.

  “I’m not sure how to say this,” he began, his voice low and husky. “I want you to know how much I trust and respect you.” He paused, the silence stretching out while I waited with pounding heart.

  “When I was very young I lived with Hotbloods who were always torn with passion, passion that I didn’t begin to understand, until I met you. From that first moment I touched your hand above the flames, I knew burning, the kind that never consumes, never ends, and that’s something that I never lost, even after I burned out.” He reached out to take my hand, his cool skin sliding over mine. “I couldn’t tell you how it felt to see you so close to Samaliel. I would rather burn out a thousand times than have him touch you.”

  My fingers burned as he caressed my fingers, so gentle in spite of the strength of his hands.

  “I’ve never said this before, to anyone alive.” There was a gaping silence as my breath hitched and his grasp tightened. “I’m… You’re… Could you consider…”

  I slid my hands up his shoulders reveling in the feel of his strength while I ran my fingers up his face, tangling in his silky hair as I leaned closer to him. “Of course, I’ll finish the bond and marry you. I love you. When I saw you fall, when I watched you after you’d burned out, I didn’t understand what I felt but now I know that I don’t want to live a life without you. I want to bind my heart and yours together forever.”

  Here he was supposed to wrap me in his arms and kiss me, with no need for words that were so hard for him to express. Instead of that, he was still, frozen under my hands like a statue, perfect, cold, unmoving. What was wrong? Was he in shock from joy, or was he…something else?