Darksoul (26 page)

“I know. Which is why I barely wear it.”

But then I noticed a subtle change in his tone. It wasn’t that he was flattered. No. But was he…pleased? Had he
secretly liked it?

And then I realized.
“You thought…” I tried not to smile. “You thought it was sweet.”

“
It was okay.”

I laughed. But something else struck me, and as my laughter
faded, I couldn’t help but feel it was a little off. Hunter, having the same sweatshirt as Ash. But what? What was it about that that made me uneasy?

Shaking it off, I said,
“So…will you tell me where we are, or—”

“Aiere.”

I stared at him, stricken. “What?”

“On
the dark side, in case that wasn’t clear. Far from the divide and from the castle where Haelvia and Sielae hold diplomatic meetings.”

After a reasonably surprised pause—Aiere; we were
actually
in
Aiere
—I looked out at the land, at the nothingness that stared back at me. There was something achingly empty about it, even hollow. At the bottom edge of the horizon, far, far away from here, there was a cutting peek of daylight, of piercing blue sky.

“
So why did you decide to…”
Come here?
I wanted to ask. But I knew he wouldn’t tell me. So I trailed off.

He
leaned back and laid down on the grass, crossing his arms behind his head. “I just needed to be alone,” he said quietly, and closed his eyes.

I laid down next to him, turning
on my side so I could watch his face. Or what I could see of his face. “But what if the Queen comes here? What if she…”

My gaze flick
ed up to the trees, where his little friends huddled. Some chased each other, others played in the grass. The flying fish rounded above the leaves and circled back again, glimmering silver-white, white-silver as they went.

Hunter opened his eyes.
“I told her that if she ever set foot here, I’d kill myself.”

My breath embarrassingly caught, and I coughed. I
shot up and slammed a fist against my chest. He languidly sat up along with me.

“What?” he said, sounding so nonchalant that I wanted to turn and kick him in the
face.

“Please don’t ever…” I focused on breathing evenly. “Please don’t ever
say that again.”

No response. Unable to sit
here anymore, I got to my feet and brushed off the back of my pants. Hunter followed, silent and graceful as always. He didn’t say anything. Neither did I. I hoped my silence spoke volumes. Told him exactly what he needed to hear.

Behind us
, a soft voice called, “N-Niko?”

Hunter and I turned
. As if he already knew what he’d see, he tilted his head to the side. I stopped on my tracks.

So did the girl that stood there, staring wide-eyed at me. She looked to be about six or seven, her nightgown reaching her bare feet,
blue ribbons tangled in her long white-blonde hair. She had the greenest, most startling eyes I’d ever seen. A teddy bear was squeezed inside one arm.

“Well,” I said, blinking myself out of my surprise. Crossing my arms, I turned to look at Hunter. “This is a new development. A
little sister. You know, nothing huge at all. What else are you hiding? Half a continent in your pants?”

He didn’t get to respond.
Suddenly, she squealed and ran toward him, throwing her arms around his leg. Eyes softening, he reached down and patted her hair. She slid behind him and peeked out at me with one wide green orb.

“Is that her
?” she whispered to him, her small fingers clutching the hem of his hoodie. He met my gaze. But before he could say anything, she tightened her grip on his sweater and said, “Are you his girlfriend, Miss Hazel M-Marie Lisle?”

A startled laugh burst out of me.
Hunter watched, eyes not giving away a hint of his thoughts, and behind him, a
zokyie
fell and curled up on the ground. Then I realized his little sister was waiting for an answer. “Actually—” Another laugh escaped me as I crouched in front of her. “You know my whole name?”

She
jumped out from behind him, planting her hands on her hips. “Of course I do!” she said, tilting up her chin. “I’m not stupid. Of course I know the name of Niko’s—”

“Favorite little rodent,” Hunter said,
leaning down to grab her shoulders. “Now, Wilhamina will call her little
zokyie
pet so he can take her back to the place where she belongs.” He arched an eyebrow. I couldn’t say I didn’t like the reprimanding big-brother look on him. “Her bed.”

But she
shook off his touch and lashed out, pointing a finger straight at my forehead. “You can’t steal him all to yourself, you hear? He’s mine, too!”

I tried not to laugh. “Of course he is.”

“And you have to be nice to him, okay? ‘Cause if you don’t,
that
will happen.” She turned to point at the ground, and I paused. “I don’t want him to be sad, see, and…”

Her
voice faded to the background. The couple of
zokyies
that had been hanging around him were on the grass, curling into themselves and letting out pained purrs. I was vaguely aware of Hunter flinging his little sister over his shoulder, and of her squealing. As he turned away, presumably to take her back to her room (in Sielae?), I slid forward and reached out to touch the shining little creatures. Chest heaving, I picked up one of them. Cradled it to me.

“
Shh, shh, it’s okay,” I whispered, picking up another one, and another, until they were all inside my arms.

Then I
heard her laugh, say, “Ew, Niko, what are you wearing!”

I looked up just in time to see her rip away his scarf.

Wilhamina stopped laughing.

And my heart fell into the sky.

Bruises.
Everywhere.
A cut on his lip. A slash on his jaw. Vivid purple stretched across his neck, his nose, his cheeks. He’d tried to fix it. I could tell. But it’d been a hasty thing, and the sharp, grotesque colors still stood out starkly against his skin. As if he’d done it in a flash and then come back to Aiere. Where I’d been waiting.

Tears burned the back of my throat.
My eyes flicked to his cap, to the sweatshirt he never wore. Covering up other bruises, I was sure. I didn’t have to ask who was responsible for this. I already knew. Those five days—I wondered if she’d been here the whole time. Doing whatever she pleased with him. How stupid and selfish of me to think he’d been gone because of the kiss when it’d been something else entirely. When it’d been something that had nothing to do with me.

It’d been her. The Queen of Haelvia.

Wilhamina had tears in her eyes. She kept asking if he was okay, hugging his leg, grabbing his hand and pressing a sloppy kiss on his palm, as if that would make it better. After calmly adjusting his scarf around his neck, Hunter kneeled and smoothed down her hair. He said something. I didn’t hear him over the deafening rush in my ears. A moment later a
zokyie
unfurled next to her, and he gently set it on her shoulder.

She
sniffled and, clutching her teddy bear, lifted her hand and gave him a half-hearted wave. The
zokyie
rose and whirled around her. Her eyes flicked to me. She gave me a watery smile before a hundred more
zokyies
joined the original, surrounding her before fluttering out of sight—taking her with them.

It was a blur after that. Hunter in front of me. Saying som
ething as he coaxed the wounded
zokyies
from my arms. Picking out Io from the bunch and setting her on my shoulder. His eternally cool eyes softening. Just a little. Then he stepped back, tilting his head at me as if in goodbye.

And then the world turned blindingly bright.

When the light diffused and the
zokyies
wriggled away, leaving only Io behind, I found myself in my room. Numbly, I went to my desk and grabbed the player full of Ash’s cello music. It’d soothe my nerves, to listen to it—it’d get me back where I needed to be. After plugging myself in, I sunk into bed and closed my eyes.

On Monday,
Hunter showed up to school as if nothing had happened. Because Valentine’s Day was that Friday, the hallways were alive with pink hearts and roses: papery decorations hung from the ceiling, and red streamers stretched across our lockers. I ran into him after passing through a group of girls who were handing out chocolate. Before I could say anything, he slapped a Butterfinger bar on my chest.

“There,” he said. “Better?”

For a second, I was speechless. His face was as it’d been before—unbruised and perfect and infuriatingly unreadable. No marks on his neck. Nothing. Io slid off the top of my head and fluttered over to his cheek, gave a worried purr and pressed a shapeless paw against it. Couldn’t say I didn’t want to do the same thing.

I grabbe
d the bar and stared down at it. “Okay. Thanks. But could we just—” My hands tightened around the Butterfinger. “Hunter, I just—”

“
I’m all right.”

“I—I can see that, but—”

He bended down, putting his face on the same level as mine. “Look into my eyes, Hazel. Know that I mean it.” It was a wonder that he didn’t grab my shoulders and shake me. “I’m fine.”

“
I know, but that still doesn’t mean I’m not worried—”

“
Here’s an idea: get the fuck over it. Hm. I wish I could say that in kinder terms. Let me try again.” He thought for a moment. Then, as if with great difficulty: “Don’t…” He couldn’t. “Fuck,” he said quietly.

My eyebrows scrunched up. “Don’t fuck?
Sorry, but it’s going to happen eventually—”

But that wasn’t what he’d been trying to say. “D
on’t…wo…worry…about me.” He tilted his head to the side. “Okay, better.”

“Hunter—”

“Willa is fine, thanks for asking.”

The stubborn ass was really not going to budge. “You piss me off, you know that?”

Before he could respond, an unmistakably English voice drawled, “Lover’s spat. My favorite kind of breakfast.”

I jumped away from Hunter
and stopped at what I saw. Ash stood there, Panther coiled around him and half-eaten Milky Way in one hand, pierced side of his lips quirked up. He wore his usual beanie. Three rings. Dark clothes. “So is this the part where you kiss, or…?”

Neither Hunter nor I batted an eye. “No,” we said. At the same time.

“How lovely,”
muttered Ash, and then lifted his chocolate bar at Hunter, who was getting eyed by a shy Panther. I wondered if he noticed how Ash’s pet looked at him. “Nice to see you alive and well.”

Hunter’s expression didn’t change.

“Yeah, actually—” I scratched the back of my head. “Ash, can I talk to you for a sec?”

After nodding goodbye to Hunter—at least for the time being—Ash and I went o
utside. He led me to the side of the building, where no one would see us, and stopped with his back to me. Then he lifted his left hand, flexed his fingers, made a loose fist and flexed them again.

And then, in one smooth, calculated motion, he turned and punched the wall.

A tremble rippled from the point of contact and the surface shuddered before caving in. It was unnaturally silent, muffled, and nothing could be heard of the impact. I stared at him, wide-eyed. He didn’t move. Blood trickled from under his fist. Io heaved on my shoulder, and Panther rushed to soothe him, nuzzling his jaw, the curve of his neck, doing so desperately as if her life depended on it.

After a stricken pause,
I took a step forward. “A…Ash?”

He didn’t turn
toward me. “Is it bad,” he said quietly, “that I want to lock him up and make sure she doesn’t get her hands on him ever again?”

“It’s
…” I swallowed. “It’s perfectly reasonable.”

He
spared me a sidelong glance. “I’m willing to kill, Hazel.”

I stopped on my tracks. The look in his eye. It was more than
pain. It was raw and cold and burning and I tried not to flinch away. It was sweet, really, and I was glad that Ash cared. I did, too. But to be honest, I couldn’t stomach the thought of facing her again—of trying anything. If she had Hunter wrapped around her finger, so much so that she could do whatever the hell she wanted with him, what made Ash think we stood a chance against her?

“The Queen of Haelvia is powerful
,” he said, and with a wave of his hand he returned the wall to its former condition. The broken plaster mended itself and smoothed over. Scarlet wetness dripped from his knuckles, danced along the edges of his rings. He made no move to wipe it away. “But she forgets that if there’s anyone fit to wage war against her, it’s me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She also forgets that I’m more than capable of murder,” he murmured to himself.

“Ash?” I reached out to
place a hand on his arm. “Talk to me. You’re rambling here.”

All of a sudden, he turned toward me and smiled. It was a sharp
, calculating thing, razor-edged and thin and lined with ice. Cold. Sophisticated. The smile of a high-profile assassin. Strangely enough, it fit him.

“
And that I can also be very cruel,” he said at last, grabbing a lock of my hair and letting it slip between his red-stained fingertips. Something about his blood made me faint. A little hungry. “Isn’t that right, little one?”

It took me a moment to realize that he was talking to Io.
She let out a soft yelp and skittered down my back, wriggling into my pocket.

I crossed my arms. “You enjoy that, don’t you?”

“I enjoy seeing things tremble in my presence, yes.”

“Stop it.”
Frowning, I yanked my hair out of his grip. “You’re acting like a villain, Ash.”

“Villain. Interesting title.” Under the half-lowered cover of his lashes, his
gaze was cool and amused. “I like it.”

Ugh.
“Why don’t we get back on track here. Okay?” I paced, trying not to look at his blood. The sight of it had my mouth going dry. “Hunter pisses me off with his blasé shit—”

“I agree that he’s too blasé about it, but there’
s nothing we can do about that. I’m afraid that’s the way the guy works.” Ash leaned against the wall and reached into his back pocket. “Being cool, calm and collected. It’s his thing.”

“How annoying.”

He took out a damn cigarette and put it in his mouth. “He does have several weak spots. Two of them, in fact.” Ducking his head, he lit up and let out a stream of smoke. Of course he didn’t care about school rules. Just like our favorite coolheaded blondie. “One of them you met yesterday.”

I stopped and blinked at him
. “You mean Wilhamina.”

“Just call her
Willa.”

“
Willa, then,” I said carefully. “And the other?”

He regarded me through hooded eyes, burn
ing cigarette between his lips. Panther blinked at me where she rested on his shoulder. She cocked her head to the side. A startlingly human gesture.

“Hmm,” he murmured
. “Looks like I’m going to have to take you to the doctor.”

“What?”

His eyes softened with amusement. “Because you’re hopelessly blind, Zel.”

“Let me guess,” I said, bored. “
You think he’s madly, madly in—” Before I could say the word, I stopped and straightened. Primly, I finished, “In lasagna with me.”

Ash choked on
his laughter.

“
Laugh all you want,” I said. “Lasagna is
wonderful
.”

After that, I
tried to squeeze more information out of him. Hunter did do an important job for the Queen. Ash wouldn’t tell me what, only that it was valuable to her. But to keep Hunter in line, to discipline him, she…

I didn’t want to finish the thought.

For the rest of the week, Hunter came to school, acting so nonchalantly that it was easy to forget how I’d seen him a couple of days before. But when he wasn’t looking, I bit my lip and fisted my hand before it reached out toward him, touched him on the arm, made sure there were no bruises there.

Valenti
ne’s Day was uneventful. Except, of course, for the fact that Ash handed a gift card to me and Hunter, told us to eat as much as we could and, of course, urged us to shove our tongues down each other’s throats.

Hunter and I shared a look.
Do something,
I begged him with my eyes.

He took the card. “We’ll do it.”

So much for helping the situation. But that night, I dialed his number and paced up and down the bathroom, not sure whether I should take this seriously or not. I was leaning more toward the former. Friends had dates all the time. And it was Hun-Hun. Come on. Hun-Hun. The grudgingly soft teddy bear.

He answered on the third ring. “Yes.”

“Should I wear a dress or not?”

I thought he sounded amused. “You’re asking me for fashion advice?”

“Let me rephrase the question. What are you wearing tonight?”

“Pants and a shirt.”

Yeah. Wow. “Help me here. Should I go formal, informal, with jeans—”

“Red lipstick.”

“What?”

“Wear red lipstick. If you want.”

I hesitated. “Is it because you like it, or…?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

Click
.

I stared at the phone
. What a weirdo.

Eventually
I found a coral pink dress that wasn’t too bad. Add a nice necklace to that. And a pair of black pumps. Hunter picked me up an hour later, and after having argued with my mom on the entryway—she’d caught sight of my quote-unquote date through the window—I finally managed to get out of the house. She told me to get back by ten. Right. As if. She was going out with Allie (they’d chosen their wedding day; it’d be in June), and probably wouldn’t even be here at that time.