by Sarah Tobias
I tried to catch his notice only once. I strode toward the restaurant, head lowered and deep in thought as I meandered through crowds, when I felt the carbonation, my blood bubbling up like champagne. My head shot up, searching.
Asher was standing beside his truck when I came around the corner. Such smoldering animosity wafted out of him. His expression damaged and emptied me to where I couldn't feel my heart beating in my chest. His stare lasted seconds, but it felt like days standing alone in the cold, arctic thunder of his eyes.
He doesn’t trust you, my dark flame whispered. And he’s right.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my lips quiver, or even calling out his name. I disguised my expression with stone and turned my back on him, too.
Our stony cat-and-mouse game continued over the next week. But by the following Sunday, I could no longer play in the tournament; I’d become too wobbly with hunger.
Desperate, I invited Macy over to assist with my plans to bamboozle Gwyn. I’d asked Macy to come to my apartment under the cover of approaching dawn so as not to alert my newfound creeper.
Always up for something out of the ordinary, and usually awake until dawn, Macy agreed. She stood in my doorway, clad in black leather pants, a tight black halter top, and a black baseball cap under which she had tucked her soft brown curls.
“Well, you said I had to be incognito,” she replied in reaction to my startled gaze, tipping her chin up as she entered.
“You got me there,” I said, moving away from the door.
“So, what’s this all about? You want me to go burgle a penthouse or something?” Macy plopped down onto my bed.
I answered as naturally as I could. “I need you to stay here while I go out. I promised Ettie I’d help her bake bread this morning. You know, since I didn’t show up to work last week.”
Lying to Macy was terrible, especially since she’d forgiven my antics at the masquerade party, only to have to endure more lies from me, more secrets. It didn’t matter she had no idea I was fibbing. She trusted me, and I kept betraying her.
Macy raised a brow in question. “Uh-huh. And what does that have to do with me? I left a cute bartender for you.” She pointed to her head. “But scored his hat.”
“I thought, since you were around here anyway, you’d just want to crash at my place, maybe catch an early breakfast with me when I come back?” My voice went higher at the end of my question. I couldn’t help it. I was stretching the truth. For a possessed teen with a succubus evil growing inside her, I sucked at this.
“And why do I have to be here for that?” she asked.
“Because there’s no way to get you out of bed other than physically dragging you from it.” I grabbed at the excuse, finding my rhythm. “If you were in your dorm, you’d make it impossible to get through your homemade barricades.”
“You might have a point.” Macy fiddled with her borrowed hat, tipping it to the side before she stared hard at me. “But you know you’re weird lately, right?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Really weird.”
I tensed at her tone, picking up my jacket from the foot of the bed. I tried on a laugh. “Weirder than usual, you mean?”
“You’re not meeting Ettie to bake bread. Come on, Ems.” Macy sat up. “My bad influence has convinced you to ditch work on many occasions, and you’ve never, ever, wanted to make it up to Ettie by showing up at four in the morning to bake.” She waved a hand as she stood up. “You and I both know you’d burn that bread in seconds.”
I stayed where I was, unsure what to say. Macy’d caught me in a lie. Now I just needed to figure out where she was going with it.
“You’ve been so quiet, so closed off. Sneaking around, avoiding me. Withdrawn.” Macy put her hands on her hips. “Looking pale not paying attention to any make-up tips I’m giving you.” She walked forward, her hands settling on my shoulders. “Darling Ems, you forget I’m a psych minor.”
She was almost nose-to-nose. I had to keep steady, but I was shaking. “I’m sorry, I know. I can explain…”
“No excuse needed.” Macy paced in a slow circle. “I already know what it is.”
She halted, poking a finger into my chest. “You are puppy-eyed, drooly-mouthed, flush-faced…” She flashed a huge smile before finishing in a sing-song voice, “in luuurve.”
My jaw unhinged. “Excuse me?”
“Yep. You’re sneaking off to go meet a boy.”
This time I really laughed. With relief. “I’m not going out for a booty call! Don’t sound so excited. I really am meeting Ettie.”
Macy pouted before she fell back onto my bed, interrogation complete.
“I could have sworn you would say you were meeting Asher,” she said.
Hearing his name felt like a punch to my throat. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mace.”
Sighing elaborately, Macy grabbed a magazine from my nightstand. “Fine. I can’t tell if you’re being super boring or if you will actually go do something nefarious. But I’ll take part in your little game nonetheless.”
I smiled through the sweat dampening my brow. “I appreciate it. The room is yours—oh, and make sure you walk by my windows now and again, okay?”
“Sure thing, weirdo,” she said as she flipped a page.
I waved goodbye and shut the door behind me, creeping down the darkened hallway. Once I descended all five flights, I took a quick peek outside the main door and sure enough, there was Gwyn, perched on the hood of her car as she stared up at my apartment. I counted myself lucky she wasn’t on the fire escape, snooping through my windows. She probably assumed I was sleeping.
I snuck out the back door, into the alley, dodging piles of trash bags. I was surprised by how cold it was before I remembered that it was early November. Time was moving much too fast. Clouds cascaded across the sky, creating a dark, starless night, but instead of shivering underneath such black cover, I wanted to make the most of it.
Tracking fae. The dark flame tittered with excitement, my deteriorating self vibrating with the need to release her at the same time my mind warned to keep her penned. This internal conflict was both the bane and very reason for my survival, and I still had so many questions, even in such a weakened state.
Derek’s absence forced me to stop being a scared little girl, unsure of her abilities and even more afraid of the possibilities.
Yes, my dark flame approved. Finally, she detected strength in me.
The night settled like black velvet as I shifted into the shadows. I jumped a flimsy wooden fence separating the apartment building behind mine.
I had to shimmy down a thin alleyway to get to 2nd Street, and while I sideways-walked between the two brick walls, resembling a rumpled starfish with my hands and legs spread out for balance, I cursed Gwyn for forcing me into this position. What happened to the days when I could just walk out my front door and maim a fae?
When I popped out of the alley, I glanced around, but didn’t see Gwyn. I pictured her gazing up at my apartment, thinking I was much too stupid to ever try to evade her.
Well, think again.
By 1st Avenue, fae energies buzzed like bees, ripe for plucking. I sniffed out one of the stronger ones. According to Derek, I’d been dealing with the lower castes of fae, the weakest of the bunch, save for my brief scuffle with the winged fae that didn’t really teach me anything. If I were to gain more knowledge (and power) the frailer, punier fae wouldn’t do.
I didn’t know what became of the winged fae that attacked Asher, and I doubted Gwyn or Asher would ever enlighten me. It was yet another question, a tidbit to add to the others for when I gathered enough courage to break through their mental barriers, or even when I could crack them a little.
Tonight, however, just before the early light of dawn, I didn’t want to think about Gwyn anymore, or continue dwelling on Asher. I was focused on one thing: nourishment. I sorted through my thoughts and put a soft, plush blanket of silence over my internal struggles,
gently stashing them away in the back of my mind. Cleared of burdens, it was easier to sift through the multiple fae energies, some only grazing my radar while others throbbed, the forces tangible pinpricks against my skin.
This time, I slipped easily into the dark flame, closing my eyes. She cooperated, for her feelings were my own as she languished. We were both in deep need of sustenance and survival, despite our divergence. I accepted the cold temptation to bring her forward, to allow her to nourish. I could no longer avoid what I was.
Derek had deserted me, Asher marooned me, and my mother left me tormented. The dark flame was the only one that stayed; she understood anguish. In return, I needed to accept her, to hold her as she held me.
Embrace the darkness.
I steeled against her impact as she veiled my mind, her fingers black tendrils of smoke as they dragged down my arms and arched my fingers. When my eyes opened, my vision was rimmed with gold.
She stretched, appreciating the feel of my skin, while I welcomed the burn as she entered my veins. It was a relief. If I cooperated, the transition hurt less.
She understood my need to hunt a stronger fae. In fact, she relished the challenge.
She wasn’t afraid. She glided down the sidewalk soundlessly and with predator grace. Her head moved from side to side, assessing, targeting. This time, I drifted with her instead of against her, giving into her needs and making them my own. In approval, she allowed me partial control. We worked together as we crossed 1st Avenue and continued to Avenue A, the beginning of Alphabet City. We searched for pockets of danger, and this area would be ripe with it, especially with no sunlight to smooth out the cracked ridges of buildings or illuminate the deep crevices rimming the streets.
The unsettled lurked here, troubled minds and possessed souls. It was perfect.
Foreign power caressed our body, cloaking us like a shroud. The source was close by, wandering down the same side street we were and observing the one or two darkened boutique windows peppered in with the residences with lazy boredom.
We walked forward without fear, our eyes and legs steady.
But when the fae came within our sights, I internally stiffened.
No.
It was a child.
Chapter 31
The fae’s shell couldn’t be over ten years old, her blonde hair cascading in waves across her shoulders and down her back.
She had the tiniest pink barrette clipped to the side of her hair, pulling her bangs delicately across her smooth, flawless forehead. She reminded me of a doll, dressed exactly like a child’s plaything, in a white shirt with frilled cap sleeves and a pink skirt that puffed out at the sides, revealing a delicate line of pink lace at the bottom. On her feet were white Mary Jane shoes, the socks peeking out of them ribboned with white lace.
And, of all things to be doing so early on a Monday morning before the sun was up, she was sucking on a bright red lollipop.
My dark flame and I had drawn her attention, but she was indifferent, her cheeks pulled in over the lollipop as she regarded us flatly, with eyes no ten-year-old should possess.
She ascended the steps that had led her to a storefront basement nestled just below the sidewalk.
“You don’t belong here,” she said, talking through the candy in her mouth.
“Neither do you,” we said, our shared voice melting in the wind.
She perked up once we spoke. “I haven’t encountered one of your kind before.”
My body glowed, swayed, though my feet remained steady on the ground. “I am the last thing you will ever come across.”
The child whooped at that. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
I couldn’t say I did. But the dark flame knew. “I can’t wait to devour you.”
The child’s face changed, her once sweet little gaze morphing into one of angry revulsion, her features fusing into one another as her skin stretched and popped to reveal two sunken, hollowed out eyes. Two long fangs, like forceps, grew out of her mouth and past her chin.
Heaven help me, they were tusks. On a tiny, angelic, flesh-eaten face.
The skin around her cheeks shriveled, sinking in and dissolving, revealing bloodied strips of white sinew. Yet, despite her horrific, decayed appearance, she stayed the same size, her head barely reaching my chest.
She’s just a child. I can’t be responsible for the death of a baby girl’s soul.
This is no innocent buttercup, the dark flame cut in.
The child zipped forward, so fast I didn’t react in time to avoid her hitting my knees with such force that my bones crunched beneath.
I howled, but my true voice made no sound, as my mouth was no longer my own. The dark flame reeled, screaming sacrilege as she snapped back into a standing position and lashed out, drop-kicking the little fae a few feet away.
My dark flame took full advantage, descending upon her, quick as a scorpion and ready to sting.
The child was ready, on her feet and gnashing as she hooked me by the arm, hoisted me into the air, and pounded me back down to the earth. I moaned silently as the dark flame hurled my elbow into the child’s face. Her delicate bones crumbled from the force.
She’s just a baby! I screamed as the girl wailed in agony.
Do you want to survive? the dark flame asked.
My body was up on my feet, crashing into the fae and shattering through the basement storefront window and onto the floor, glass shards and pulverized pieces of chinaware showering us as we sparred amongst the shrapnel. We landed with my foot pressed down on the child-fae’s neck. She fastened her sticky hands around my ankle and twisted—hard. Tendons popped, bones and ligaments severed, and my muscles shredded into limp flaps.
My dark flame counteracted the pain with her weight—pressing my wounded foot harder on the little driblet’s neck. My mind short-circuited with firecracker explosions, bomb detonations, bright colors to sweeping blindness. The kind of pain that should never be allowed to enter a conscious person’s mind.
The child angled her head and sank her teeth into the flank of my shin, her fangs piercing through the denim and hitting bone.
This time, even my dark flame screamed and shrank in my mind. Puce pink slime flowed down grooves lining the fae’s serrated twin fangs, the viscous venom ferried under my skin with the speed of a pit viper’s strike.
My leg went numb, and so did my heart. Even though every part of me begged not to do it, I pitched forward dizzily.
Blood pounded in my ears. My breath hitched. Saliva poured through my mouth. Sweat broke out on my forehead, dripping down, pooling at my collarbone.
Falling to my hands and knees, the fire within me raged against the poison. I was boiling to death from the inside out.
The fae stood to the side, spectating with delight.
“You should’ve been much stronger than this,” she observed with her sweet, playful shell’s inflection.
“Why…” I said through clenched teeth, “does everyone seem to know what I am but me?”
She laughed with the enjoyment of a guileless ten-year-old. “I’m afraid that part is essential, halfling.”
What-ling? What'd she mean? Gasping, gulping, feebly drawing air into my shrinking lungs, I looked to her, attracting her gaze to mine.
“Oh no, we can’t have that,” she said, blinking against my stare and promptly kicking me in the face.
The back of my skull cracked against the tiles. Spitting blood, I attempted to roll, only to be met with convulsions.
No, no, no, I thought. I can’t die here. Not yet, not yet…
I struggled to make my fingers move, to raise my hand, to touch the fae. I had to touch her.
My eyes fluttered, unconsciousness reaching up to drag me into its murky waters.
Dark sister, where are you? I moaned. Come back…
The fae pattered closer, a child’s exuberance fueling her footsteps.
“This is too exciting,” she said, her lips sliding against her oversized tusks. “
My victory over you will go down in history!”
She danced. This kid actually trotted around, arms swinging to a tune only she could hear, with a sort of screwy euphoria.
It made me angry.
I searched for the dark flame, finding her through the winding pain, and towing her to the surface with everything I had.
Grow, flame. Burn. Blaze brightly. Glow through me. Light her on fire.
Sweat dampened my upper lip. I struggled to hold on as the dark flame flickered at my demands, but she was the size of a candle flame. The venom was snuffing her out.
The last of my stamina waned. I could no longer lure her forward. I drew in my last breath when the calm settled over, silenced me.
I tried. I really did. But the allure of a purified sleep was so, so tempting. All I had to do was close my eyes. Then I could be free, floating. Cured. I could feel what it is to rest. Yes…take me…
I don’t think so, sister-mine.
A smoldering pyre of defiance engulfed me just as I began loosening my hold, my limbs alighting with flames, licking under my skin, tongues of fire igniting my conscious.
The dark flame commanded one last chance.
The burst of vitality snaked my arm out. I snatched the dancing corpse-child by the ankle, and yes, ah yes, hit skin.
“Burn, you little walrus!” I screamed as the fire rode down my arm and into her.
She squealed, bending to pry my hand off. I used her lack of balance to topple her sideways, climbing on top and unsheathing my claws into her shoulders.
The dark flame butted against me, demanding the driver’s seat. I flung her out of the way, but she was persistent.
But I made one fatal mistake—I glanced down to capture the fae with my gaze, and I faltered. A screaming, crying kid lay below me, one I was digging claws into, wailing hoarsely as I drew blood.
I couldn’t see the fae in her. All I saw was a child.
The fae slithered in the girl’s eyes, but there was a quiver of the true child underneath, and she stared at me in fear. The poor thing was beside herself with fear.
