Cursed Fae (Dark Thirst Series Book 1)

by Sarah Tobias

Suddenly, he jolted upright, breaking his gaze from mine and scanning the park, searching through panhandlers and students.

  His reactions were so strange. If it were possible, he was more sensitive to light and sound than I was. The same thing happened in the coffee shop last week, the loud crash of breaking mugs causing him to spring into a fighting stance, his eyes flashing like shards of ice as he leaped over the counter.

  It was so tempting to ask him, are you a fae, too? If it weren't for the whip of warning impaling me every time I went near the guy.

  I scurried over to Macy, hoping against hope that Asher didn’t think I could be the source of his unease.

  Taking the grassy spot next to Macy, I dared to check if Asher had given up trying to find whatever he was looking for.

  No such luck. I found his focus back on me. Intently.

  I waved. A, hey Asher, nothing’s wrong, keep doing what you’re doing, kind of hand-flutter. His lips thinned, but he gave a quick nod in return. Gwyn also glanced up, leaving me to face two sets of vigilant eyes.

  “Ems, could you be any more awkward with him?” Macy laughed. Liz and Amanda both shook their heads in disdain.

  “What? I’m saying hello,” I said to Macy.

  “Honestly, I’ve never seen you act this way with any boy. You are seriously crushing on him.” She pushed at my shoulder. “Just be yourself. You’re awesome, and guys can only wish they had your attention.”

  “Barf.”

  And there was Amanda. Her looks matched her personality: brunette hair and hazel eyes, with a straight, Romanesque nose in between. Light freckles decorated her nose, which she not-so-successfully attempted to conceal under a heavy layer of foundation. Although not as snotty as Liz, Amanda came in a close second. I wasn’t sure what Macy saw in either of them. They always seemed to be mean and petty.

  “You’re looking good, Ems,” Amanda said, making my nickname sound like a joke. “What have you been doing?”

  “Sleep, apparently.” Macy said. “She won’t tell me her secret.”

  Souls, Macy. I’ve been killing people and eating their souls, I wanted to say.

  “You’re so distracted lately. Are you okay?” Macy asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, you can always talk to me. You know that, right?”

  I nodded, my heart breaking at the same time. No, I can’t.

  Thankfully, Liz chimed in. “If we’re done with the love-fest, can we get down to some serious business? I need ideas for our Halloween party. Stat.”

  Liz always reminded us of her burdens and especially decried the weight of responsibility that hosting her and Amanda’s yearly Halloween party brought. It’s just hard being this popular, you know? her shrugs always said. All the pressure…

  Macy brightened and pulled out her phone. “Let’s see, I probably have some ideas stashed somewhere on my Pinterest board…”

  I sat back and let them talk. Taking it in, I heard everything from “Heaven and Hell” to “Goth” to “Hollywood.”

  No wonder Liz needed help, if these were the tired-out tropes she was throwing around.

  “Dark Masquerade,” I said, so quietly I doubted they heard me.

  Amanda caught it. “Interesting. Explain.”

  “Well,” I began, “I know masquerade balls are common, even boring, but if you made it a darker theme, like carnival masks of monsters and shadows and … devils, things like that. I don’t know, I’m thinking out loud. Continue on.”

  I waved off my idea, embarrassed I spoke up. I was even more uncomfortable with the fact that I almost said ‘dark fae.’

  Amanda responded with a slow grin. “Twisted, Ems. I like it.”

  Of course she would. Although there was no fae to be found in her, she was a wretched soul, through and through.

  Liz cocked her head, intrigued and maybe a little jealous. “That’s definitely something to consider, Emily. We’ll think about it. Oh, and thanks.”

  I smiled at her, knowing full well she would take all the credit. I didn’t mind. Right now I didn’t care all too much about anything that could be construed as the regular frustrations of life.

  All three made moves to get up and head to class, and I followed suit. Turned out my break of being normal was becoming more abnormal by the second. Why did I have to bring up devils and monsters? Although the rest of my shift had been uneventful, I remembered clearly what I had written.

  Danger.

  I really needed to figure out how to find Derek.

  “See you tomorrow?” Macy asked as she slung her book-bag over her shoulder. Liz and Amanda had walked off without a goodbye. “I’ll stop by Cream, bother you for a bit before I go and play matchmaker.”

  I shot her a warning look, which she ignored.

  “Look Ems, if you aren’t gonna talk to him, I’m gonna talk to him for you.” Her hands went to her hips as she stood over me. “And you know I mean it.”

  Macy stretched her arms over her head, arching her back and curving just enough to catch Asher in her line of vision. “How convenient! Your new conquest seems to have found himself alone … who was that girl with him, anyway?”

  “His twin sister,” I replied before thinking.

  Macy arched a brow. “Says the girl who insists she doesn’t care and knows nothing about Asher Benedict.”

  I sighed.

  “Oh, come on. You’ve been acting weird ever since you met the guy. Don’t you at least want to satisfy your curiosity?”

  Macy had a point, though it was for reasons she’d never fathom.

  “You’re right, I guess,” I muttered.

  “Jeez, talking to a hot guy. There can’t be anything worse than that.” Macy patted the top of my head like a doting parent.

  “Alright, alright!” I laughed, pushing her hand away. “I’ll do it. But not with you staring out through the bushes. Go to class.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “But you better text me later.”

  “Only if I don't catch you documenting this with your phone.”

  “Tempting, but I'll refrain,” she said as she squeezed my arm goodbye. “For now.”

  I made sure Macy had exited the park before turning my attention to Asher. Couples and students dotted the green space, all trying to find a spot on the grass or a bench to enjoy the cool late afternoon air. I noticed a few had Cream cups as I drew closer to them, my stroll deliberately slow. Children laughed as they ran under the blankets their parents rose into the air before settling them on the grassy floor, and a group of older adults searched through their picnic basket as they playfully bickered. This little patch of greenery in a concrete city was the perfect backdrop for families and friends coming together on a crisp, clear evening, music and laughter their instrumentals as they said farewell to another fall day.

  The wind was cold, though, the air devoid of any companionship as I walked within the milling crowds. No hand held mine, no lips hit my cheek in comfort.

  Which was why the heat that snapped within me the nearer I drew to Asher came as such a surprise.

  Warnings fought with the craving to be near him, curiosity mixing with danger. Without reason, I wanted all of him.

  Mmm, what would his soul taste like…?

  My eyes widened at what the heat inside me was doing.

  Stop, I thought to myself. Stop this right now.

  The war raging inside me caused no reaction in Asher. How could it? Even though lava craters were cracking open in my head, no one on the outside could see it.

  Gulping, I kept moving forward. Asher was using the tree as a chair back, his torso curving with the wood as he laid his elbow on his knee and rested his chin on his curled hand. To any bystander, he appeared to not have any care in the world.

  Danger.

  Flares, like the rising tongue of flames, stirred within. I’m not hurting anyone else. Especially not him.

  “Ashe
r?” I spoke through the rising sensation in my gut, my voice sounding tremulous to my own ears.

  I should run. I should not be near this man. The pit inside me became even more cavernous the closer I came. I was only allowing more oxygen for the black flames to grow.

  A voice inside me flickered, Stay where you are, sweet Emily. See what I can do.

  “Emily.” Asher raised his eyes to mine and smiled, but there was distraction in them.

  I stood for a moment, unable to sit beside him. Literally. My body wouldn't let me. It was stupid to approach, really stupid. What was I going to say? To do? Asher made me feel different. His face was so angelic, but I couldn’t read behind it. And I wanted to, badly. He scared me, but he tempted me.

  With some reluctance, my legs gave in to my demands and I managed to sit, but not close enough to touch.

  “I come here to think all the time,” I said as conversation. My skin was charged, tiny blonde hairs going rigid, and I prayed it didn’t show in my voice. “There’s something so innocent about this place. All these kids, the fresh air and trees … the view.”

  I cringed. I really sounded lame. But I didn’t want to leave. Why didn’t I want to escape?

  Asher didn’t seem to think I was too strange, because he nodded. “Do you ever get answers, when you’re here contemplating?”

  I rubbed my lips together as I gazed at the surrounding buildings, the lowering sun glittering across the rows of windows, creating checkerboards against the darkening sky.

  “Not always,” I answered. “But it helps to think things through, at least. To try and understand.”

  Asher turned to me then. This time his focus wasn’t as sharp as it tended to be. His stare was softer, more guileless. My lips parted, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. I was caught up in his eyes, caught up in him, and with that came confusion. Never had I felt this drawn to anyone, much less a male stranger.

  Danger. His soul comes with risk. But I want it. Oh, I want it.

  This foreign craving, these words that weren't mine, swirled in my head, tempting my mouth to open, to consume.

  Enough, I told the darkling voice inside me.

  Asher was about to say something. I could tell by the way his lower lip went supple, but he must've had second thoughts, because he shifted, returning his cold, calculating attention to the Washington Arch.

  “This city’s trouble,” he said.

  I surprised myself by saying, “No. This city saved me.”

  Asher’s steel-cut stare centered on me. “This city can’t save anyone.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” My voice was strong, but I said it to my hands instead of him. His were on his thighs, and I had the deepest urge to clutch his fingers, lay them close to my heart. “This city is responsible for turning my world back on its axis.”

  Asher mulled that over. “Maybe. But there are people here with souls that set out to destroy.”

  Souls?

  Did Asher just mutter the one word that kept me up at night, the single reason that had me drooling with addiction, so simply?

  I snuck a peek at him, honing in on the back of his neck, where his brain stem lay, and I could picture with perfect clarity how it would crunch between my teeth.

  I squirmed. Could he see through my golden exterior? Get past this glowing skin, my sapphire eyes, and cashmere-soft hair? No one else could. But, as Asher considered me, I was almost sure he could spot the real Emily underneath.

  I wondered if it was the uncomfortable, awkward, lost little girl, who once again couldn’t find her place in the world that he saw, or the woman who wanted to cackle over his dying form as she consumed his soul.

  My stomach lurched. How can I be thinking these things?

  Asher chuckled. “With the look on your face, I’m not convinced this city makes you feel any safer than where you came from.”

  Kill him, the voice whispered. Laughter mocked. Weakling.

  “So, you think the city is being destroyed?” I asked, a little too loudly. “You know what? I believe you.”

  Asher’s shoulders stiffened.

  “Humans are selfish,” I said, then shrugged. “This precious land of ours is going to crap.”

  Out of nowhere, he laughed, and I startled. It was shockingly bright compared to his composure. Yet, it held the rhythm of experience, of tough meanings and warped childhoods. At a different time—heck, even one week ago—maybe we could’ve been friends. Bonded over mutual trauma.

  After his laughter trailed off, we watched a little girl chase a boy, maybe her brother, and tackle him to the ground, giggling and swatting at him until an adult distracted them with juice boxes.

  “It seems like you’ve got some conflict to work through as well,” he said.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

  “We all have our issues,” he said, leaning back on his hands.

  I nodded at him in amused understanding. “Inner demons. That’s for sure.”

  Asher pushed himself off the ground, his forehead wrinkled in thought. I had the oddest sense that the words I used affected him, more than it should, and that maybe I wanted them to.

  I was different, and with that isolation came an ache for someone else to be, too. Did Asher understand? Was he in the thick of this supernatural world like I was?

  Asher straightened, signaling the end of our conversation—if you could call it that. There was so much more to ask, but there was also a much deeper trust to build. You couldn't just up and say, I think I have fae in my blood to anyone.

  “I have to go but … it was nice talking with you,” Asher said. “Especially when there was nothing between us. Like countertops. Or broken ceramic.” Asher tried to look bashful, but on him, it appeared curious and seductive. “I apologize for what happened in the coffee shop.”

  “It’s fine. Already forgotten.” I rose with him. “Thanks for … trying to save me?”

  His expression tightened. “I have … sensitivities ... to unexpected noises,” he explained.

  I didn’t push the issue. What could I say, anyway? Oh, do you react to threats by slicing into people's necks as well? Awesome! Let’s be friends.

  “Well, you know where to find me,” I said. “I’ll probably be at Cream. Spilling coffee.”

  He laughed at that, and this time it was genuine.

  “I’ll see you soon, Emily,” he said, turning towards the Arch. I didn't move until he’d crossed the street and receded into the shadows of the towering buildings.

  I wasn’t sure I could move. My limbs had settled into stone, and it was with frustrated resilience I could move my legs and clench my fingers again.

  I tested my arms as the hot flames pumped like a river through my veins. My vision dotted, my breaths became tight, and the thought of being paralyzed took over every sense I possessed. I could be having a stroke, a heart attack—succumbing to panicked hyperventilation—but no hospital could fix me. No ambulance could rescue me. Not for this. My cure lay in the unknown.

  I breathed. Dragged in air at first, through small, filtered gasps into my lungs. Until the tissue opened and retracted enough that the tingles disappeared. I sucked in air, and my body was mine again.

  Whatever that was, whatever I was going through, it told me I only had so much time.

  The flame tingled at the back of my neck.

  Listen to me, Emily…

  My ears perked up at the swirling whisper, until a voice of reason, my voice, answered with a borrowed, yet familiar, name.

  I had to find Derek. It was time to learn what I could do.

  Chapter 17

  The large sycamore tree shrouded my body like part of a forbidden forest as I surveyed the evening crowd in the park.

  Losing Asher’s presence seemed to both lighten the air and weigh down my heart, and I clenched a hand to my stomach, unable to sort through the conflict.

  Shouts of surprise and slaps of companionship combined into a wave of sound flowing
into my ears. A light breeze picked up, blowing my hair but feeling cool against my skin. Music played. A man sat under the Arch, his fingers gliding across a baby grand piano that he’d rolled here, his melody flowing into the life of the park.

  How do I find Derek?

  So many people were in this city, so many buildings framed this place. Homes, offices, hotel rooms, sidewalks … he could be anywhere.

  Reach down, Emily … inside … to me …

  The whisper suffocated all other sounds. I stood in the shadows, unnoticed, as I closed my eyes, my palms facing outward, and mentally reached down, following a tunnel that led me to the place where the whispers lived.

  I heard the whoosh of one long breath escaping. I wasn’t sure if it was me or the quiet voice inside, but once it went away, heat built at my center, almost as if a hot water bottle were placed on my chest. At first, it was an isolated warmth, gnawing on my ribs, hotter, boiling. I placed my hand over my heart and was nearly scalded through my shirt. Gasping, my eyes shot open.

  There.

  I felt it.

  Or him. Moving in one corner of the city, lithe and smooth as he glided within the crowds of tourists.

  Broadway. Derek’s walking down West Broadway.

  Derek, come to me…

  I sensed him stiffen, as if I were in his body, locating his control. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel the soul of his fae moving among all the other humans.

  Come, Derek…

  He did. Derek changed pace, turned sharply to the left, and then disappeared.

  On a gasp, the fire at my center dissipated, the whisper growing quiet. I fell against the tree, my nails scraping against the bark for leverage.

  “You’re a wily one, babycakes.”

  Once Derek was within earshot, I froze. In fact, he was standing beside me. I didn’t hear him wander up. I didn’t sense him at all.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he continued.

  I was reluctant to appear any weaker, so I replied, “Maybe next time you can actually tell me where to meet you,” and straightened from the tree.

  “Well, turns out I don’t have to communicate like a human with you, after all.” Derek shivered, like he was visibly shaking off a spell. “Nice trick.”