A Beautiful Dark (7 page)

I stared at him blankly.

“Sorry,” he said with a small smile, “I’m not very good at small talk. I don’t often find myself starting over in a new place, getting to know strangers.” Asher had alluded to the same thing, but I somehow got the feeling it wasn’t as hard for him. I wondered at Devin’s lack of the same kind of brazen confidence. He was so classically attractive, with the hair, skin, and features of a fairy-tale prince. Everything about him was just so . . .
perfect
. How could he not see that in himself?

“You’re doing okay,” I said, a smile coming easily and naturally. “Maybe you just need to give people a chance to get to know you.”

He lifted his gaze to me. His eyes were really incredible. Soft and hard at the same time, water and ice, and the bluest blue I’d ever seen. They almost didn’t look real.

“I saw Asher talking to you over at the coffee bar,” he said, and I could see the tempest forming in his eyes. There was a slight lilt to his cadence, almost as if he’d worked hard to banish an accent. I couldn’t place where it might have come from. “He’s trying to win you over.”

Even when Asher wasn’t here, the argument was still triangulated. It was like they were programmed to interfere in each other’s lives.

“Is that what he was doing?” I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

“It’s what he always does. Whatever he wants. He doesn’t care at all—” He stopped abruptly and glanced at me. Hesitation flickered across his face.

“About the rules?” I finished for him.

I almost laughed at the shock that passed over his features, as though I’d reached out and slapped him. I sipped calmly on my latte and studied him over the rim of the mug. “I overheard you guys on Saturday,” I said. “Before you knocked me over.”

He furrowed his brow. “What . . . what exactly did you hear?”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Something about your rules. I got the impression he wasn’t too impressed with them. So what are they exactly?”

Devin looked away. “It’s a code that I . . . Look, it’s nothing.” He sighed. “We don’t have to get into it here.”

I laughed. “Well, based upon what I saw—you know, trying to destroy each other in a crowded coffee shop where anyone could have gotten hurt—I’d say your code isn’t working too well.”

“Asher doesn’t understand. Rules exist for a reason. He doesn’t grasp”—he glanced at me—“why they’re important.” With that, he seemed to run out of steam. “It’s our problem to resolve. I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”

“No, really, it’s okay,” I said. “It’s interesting. And hey, I think you mastered the art of small talk.”

A corner of his mouth curled up, and the tranquility returned to his eyes. “Maybe. Not really. I just knew you’d understand. You seem very precise.”

Precise.
I did sometimes have control-freak tendencies, but it was an odd thing to say—and an odder way to phrase it.

Devin may have been beautiful, but it was no use denying there was something strange about him.

“Ahem.” Cassie cleared her throat. She and Dan were standing above us, grinning, clearly waiting for an introduction.

“Devin, these are my friends Cassie and Dan.”

“Hey, man,” Dan said, doing that chin-nod thing guys always do.

“Hey, man,” Devin repeated, but the way he said it sounded unnatural, slightly foreign—more formal in its casualness than if he’d simply said hello. He stood up. “I should go.”

“Oh, no,” Cassie said quickly. “Don’t let us kick you out.”

“Thank you, but I really do have to go. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He looked down at me, the half smile once again playing on his lips. “It was nice talking to you, Skye. Thank you for the small-talk lesson.”

“You’re doing great,” I said, again feeling how easy it was to smile at him. With Asher, I’d begun to feel like conversation was a game, a skill, and I couldn’t show my hand. I had to hide my smile, make him work for it. With Devin, things just seemed so easy. “See you at school.”

He strode away, and Cassie plopped down on the cushion he’d occupied. “Definitely a tormented soul there.”

“How do you figure that?” Dan asked.

“You only have to look into his eyes to know.”

Dan snorted. “I didn’t see anything.” He stretched. “I’m going to see if the pool tables are open.”

When Dan was out of earshot, Cassie shifted around to face me squarely. “So both mysterious cousins hitting on you in the same night? Please divulge all, immediately. Spare no boring detail.”

“I don’t know if I would characterize that encounter with Devin as
hitting
on me.”

She gave me a sly grin. “But the encounter with Asher . . . ?”

“I’m not sure if he knows how to talk to a female
without
hitting on her. I mean, even Ms. Manning went all gaga for him that first day.”

“True. But it must be nice to have two guys interested in you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. We just talked.”

“Here you go,” Ian said, suddenly standing next to us.

I looked up, startled, as he removed my empty mug and replaced it with another filled to the brim.

“
This
one’s on me,” he said. Before I could even thank him, he was heading back to the counter.

“Hmm,” Cassie murmured. “Make that three guys.”

At the moment, I felt like it was three too many.

Chapter 7

C
assie has always been prone to hyperbole, but the weather reports supported her theory that it was the coldest month on record in River Springs.

Even at home, our house felt too big and drafty, the cold seeping in through the cracks at the base of the big plate glass windows overlooking our backyard—the mountains looming up dark and aloof in the distance. The house was built into the side of a hill, so the side that faced out was made up of lots of windows. When you looked out, it felt like you were suspended in the sky, with no ground beneath your feet and the mountains stretching out before you. I used to love that feeling of weightlessness. Now, after the floating dream, I found it unsettling. It didn’t help that I was periodically experiencing waves of nausea mixed with images of Asher’s dark eyes and Devin’s blue ones.

Aunt Jo was home from the backcountry and tried to keep things cozy by baking. I, being kitchen-averse, just stalked around in a hat and scarf and kept turning up the thermostat.

“Cut it out, Skye; it’s not that cold.” She laughed as she scooted a tray of cinnamon spice cookies into the oven.

“But I’m fa-fa-fa-reezing.” I shivered dramatically, huddling up on one of the stools that surrounded the cherrywood and marble kitchen island.

“I think the thermostat can stay at seventy. Put on another sweater.”

“I’m already wearing, like, five.”

Aunt Jo exaggerated an eye roll. “You’ll live. Here. Taste.”

I took the wooden spoon from her and bit off a chunk of raw cookie dough. It was delicious, spicy. I missed Aunt Jo’s cooking when she was gone. She’d been too tired last night after getting in, but today the kitchen was filled with the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon.

“It would be better fresh out of the oven,” I pointed out hopefully.

“Well, then you’re just going to have to wait another fifteen minutes.” She turned around and patted down her apron. “Do me a favor and get my
Barefoot Contessa
off the credenza in the hall, okay? Maybe I’ll make apple turnovers for dessert tomorrow.”

“’Kay,” I said, hopping off the stool and padding down the hall in my wool socks. I slowed as I passed the thermostat on the wall. I didn’t care what Aunt Jo said—even though it said seventy degrees, it seriously felt like negative fifty.

I shivered and reached to adjust the thermostat to eighty. But as my hand neared the digital display, my heart began to race. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Without my touching the controls, the numbers began rolling upward at a scary-fast rate. When the display reached a hundred and one degrees, the small white box sizzled and shorted out. The screen went black.

“Shit!” I whispered. What had I just done? I hadn’t even touched it. I stared at my fingers. I was too afraid to look in the mirror, afraid I’d see that my eyes had morphed again into that weird, mercurial silver.

Had I just caused the thermostat to short-circuit . . . without even touching it? No, it was ridiculous even to think it.

“Skye?” Aunt Jo called. “Everything okay?”

I grabbed the cookbook off the credenza and trotted back into the kitchen.

“Yep!” I said, dropping the book onto the counter and looking away. “I think the thermostat’s broken. We should get that thing looked at.”

“Keeping the house at subtropical temperatures doesn’t mean it’s broken,” she said with a snort. “Can you toss me the egg timer?”

“Sure.” I extracted the neon green egg timer from the drawer in the island and tossed it to her. “Hey, I think it might actually be warmer outside. I’m going to take a walk. Mind if I disappear till the cookies are done?”

“Are you really that cold? Hope you’re not coming down with the flu.” She came toward me with her hand outstretched as if to feel my forehead.

I ducked away, grabbing my heavy coat, mittens, and knit cap. “I’m fine. I won’t be out too long anyway.”

Once I was outside, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and started trudging through the snow. My fingers still stung. I couldn’t explain what had happened with the thermostat. Maybe I’d simply built up a charge of static electricity and when I’d gotten near enough—
Pop! Bang!

I should have had the courage to look in the mirror, but even if my eyes were silver, what did it mean? Everything was getting so weird lately. My eyes. The sensation of floating when I woke up. The boiler explosion. The thermostat short-circuiting. Two—no, three—guys showing an interest in me. In my whole life, I’d only ever had one boyfriend. And that had been a disaster.

I wended my way through the trees until I reached my favorite thinking spot. I felt like I was standing at the edge of the world. Below me was a vast expanse of white dotted with evergreens.

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the sharp scent of pine. I was obviously searching for connections where none existed. The boiler had been defective. The thermostat, old. Devin and Asher were doing that whole cousin-rivalry thing. I doubted that I meant anything to either of them—I was just another thing to fight over. Ian and I had always hung out together so I should expect him to feel protective of me. My eyes—I couldn’t explain them away so easily. It was more than the way light hit them. They were a molten silver color that scared me.

I was sure now that I’d even blown the floating incident out of proportion. It was common for people to dream about flying. It symbolized breaking free from something that was holding you back. I was seventeen now. I was getting ready to apply to colleges. To leave Aunt Jo and River Springs. I was ready to be out on my own. That was all.

I spread my arms out. Felt the wind rushing past from the gorge below. This was a great place for flying kites in the summer because of the updraft. I tilted my head toward the sky, closed my eyes, and did what I’d done since I was six: I imagined myself soaring to wherever my parents were, being reunited with them once again.

Suddenly my foot hit an icy patch on the ledge, and my legs flew out from under me. My eyes flew open. I screamed, felt myself drop . . . and stop.

Standing on solid ground again, my heart thundering, I stared into familiar blue eyes.

Devin’s arms were wrapped tightly around me. I couldn’t feel his warmth through our coats, but for a minute, I imagined I could. It was an icy heat, like the combination I felt whenever I ate a mint. Sharp but sweet. Cool and hot at the same time.

“You shouldn’t stand so close to the edge when it’s so icy.”

His voice was incredibly calm. He could have been commenting on my selection of a coat, not saving my life. Where had he come from? How had he gotten here? And what were the odds that he’d be right where I needed him to be
when
I needed him to be there?

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was breathless, not certain any longer if it was my nearly plummeting to my death or his nearness that was making it so hard to draw in air.

“Protecting you. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“No, I mean why are you
here
? You just happen to be at the same place I am? The girl who believes in coincidence always ends up dead, Devin.”

“What?” His voice faltered. “I was exploring the trails. It was . . . fate.”

“So you’re saying it was your destiny to find me here?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He released his hold on me and stepped back. “I’ve explored a lot of the trails in this area since moving here, but this one is my favorite. It’s so calm here. So different from the halls at school.” Devin looked up at the gray sky, thick with clouds.

Maybe we were more similar than I’d imagined. “I know what you mean.”

He smiled, and his eyes seemed to change color. From crystal clear shallows to the depths of the ocean.

We looked at each other, neither of us speaking. I was struck again by how easy it was to be with Devin. With Asher, our connection was quick, immediate—a fire flashing through my veins. When I was with Devin, the burn was a slow one. I almost didn’t realize it was happening until I felt the heat reach my cheeks.

“How do you do that?” I asked, swallowing hard.

“Do what?”

“Give the impression that you’re in some sort of zenlike place. My heart is still racing, but you look like nothing happened.”

“Nothing did happen. You’re fine, right?”

Nothing catastrophic, but something was definitely happening.

I walked over to a boulder closer to the trail, brushed off the snow with my mittens, and sat down. Devin stood there hesitantly.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m still a little shaky. Do you mind if we sit for a minute?”

“No.” He wandered over and settled down beside me. The view was breathtaking. As silence eased in between us, I thought of what Cassie had said about Devin being tormented.