Darksoul (30 page)

Hunter
pointed Syivhail at Ash’s face. “Go on,” he said in a quiet, even voice. “Finish what you were going to say.”

Ash didn’t look the least concerned about the fact that fingers
were wrapped around his neck. Much less about the weapon that almost jabbed his eye. “Twenty-four hours,” he said. “In the last twenty-four hours.”

Hunter’s face remained cool. “Against my better jud
gment, I let you play your game. You can bet it won’t happen again. And for the love of all everloving fucks, Lucien, stop trying to set me up with your wife.” He cocked his head toward Ash’s left hand. “Or are those rings a lie?”

The initial shock had worn off, and in the tense silence that followed,
laughter bubbled up within me. It rolled up and out of my stomach, and suddenly, I laughed. It wasn’t hysterical, but close. Both Ash and Hunter looked at me. I doubled over and laughed and wiped tears from my eyes and laughed and all of a sudden I was aware that I was only wearing Ash’s shirt—that my legs were bare and my hair was a mess—but I couldn’t bring myself to care, couldn’t bring myself to stop.

And then my laughter
faded and I straightened and I stopped laughing. And I said, “I want the two of you to get off each other or I’ll rip off your dicks.”

They stared at me.

I crossed my arms. “Clearly you think I’m kidding.”

They rose. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they were more than just the same height—the breadths of their chests was
nearly identical. For a moment, I stared at them. At the wings sprouting from Ash’s back. At the ice that made up Hunter’s arm. Heaving out an angry sigh, I reached up to massage the bridge of my nose. What a fucking headache.

Abruptly, I
shoved past them and went into the living room. When they didn’t follow, I barked, “Well, are you coming or not?”

They
walked in, looking wary. I gestured at the sofa. “Please, sit down,” I said sweetly. “Make yourselves at home. Don’t forget to kill each other while you’re at it.” That would certainly do us all a favor.

As if they were afraid I would snap, they slowly sat. I started to pace, jaw cl
enched. I’d deal with this in a mature manner. All right. Here we go.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I demanded.

Hunter stared up at me. Ash opened his mouth to speak and then, seeming to think better of it, shut it again.

I stopped and
ran a fingertip across my bottom lip. “No, no,” I murmured to myself. “That isn’t the right way to go about it. Okay. Let me try again.” I took a deep breath. Turned to them. Then I demanded: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The side of Ash’s mouth twitched. Hunter had the audacity to look amused.

“Oh, that’s right,” I said, incensed. “Let’s laugh about it now. Let’s be happy and shit when you’ve given me the biggest headache I’ve ever had. And are we just going to ignore the fact that the two of you can switch bodies?”

“It’s not switching bodies,” said Ash.

“It’s switching our appearance,” said Hunter.

“Oh, how fucking fancy. The two assholes can
swap hair colors. I’m awed.” This, in as bored a tone as I could muster. “Let me guess. You can only do it with each other, because you’re secretly lovers.”

“The
first part was correct,” Ash said.

“No, pleas
e. Let me live my gay fantasy for five more minutes. Aaand…okay, I’m done. Wow, I’m dirty.”

Looking amused, Hunter said something in soft
Russian. The pierced corner of Ash’s lips quirked up.

“Well?” I said.

They waited.

“Are you going to transla
te that, or should I threaten your asses again?”

At the same time. “No.”

“Wonderful.” I crossed my arms. “I’m also waiting for something else.”

Nothing.

I let out an irritated breath. “I need you to clarify. How often did you use that stupid trick on me?”

Hunter met my eyes first. His expression didn’t change and he moved not one finger, but I felt something probing at my mind, a gentle tug. He was teasing it out. The memory came back in slow trickles—him, me, an Amelian gun, the snowy clearing. Syivhail tearing into a tree trunk and a bird cupped in his human hand. But instead of Ash, it was him, the point of his weapon piercing the underside of my chin as he challenged me again.

“Oh,” I murmured, blinking as the images faded in front of my eyes. “I see.”

He lowered his head once. A strangely princely gesture. “My apologies.”

“You’re too good of a sparring partner to apologize. I’ll fight you again and I’ll kick your ass.” Jaw clenching, I turned to Ash. “Your turn.”

Ash didn’t pause. He held onto my gaze as the barrage of memories poured forth: day after day in the clearing
, training me, guiding my arm, helping me grip the sword. Giving me the rings. The bracelets. Pressing countless
vaehn
marks against my throat. Telling me about the lost angel prince and Sielae and Haelvia and their Queens. But instead of Hunter, it was him, his quiet voice in my ear, his
ceahel
tucked under him, his hand morphing feathers from blade to silvery suppleness and back.

And the tests. Goddamn it. The stupid tests. ‘Collecting data.’ Trying to see it from Hunter’s point of view. Doing
stupid lovey-dovey things to study my reaction.

He never wore Hunter’s face in another situation. Just for training
. Just to do the damn tests. And all because I’d confused him that first day. Before I could dwell on it too much, the memories ended—in a considerably rougher manner than Hunter’s gentle stop.

And then I realized. What in the…oh, my God.
It—it couldn’t be. Why would they—how could—what the hell?

They stared at me. Waiting.

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head as if to clear it. “I’m making the mistake of thinking that this is about me. When really…” I searched their faces. There was nothing there to read. “So…” I took a deep breath. “Here’s what you’re telling me. You impersonated each other, came to me, bad-mouthed yourselves, told me I should date the other, and—”

I couldn’t even finish.

“Bad-mouthed ourselves?” said Ash.

I sent him a sharp look.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“We were simply stating the truth,” Hunter said coolly.

“Oh, my fucking shit,” I said, trying not to lose it, but my voice still rose without my permission. “You love each other. That’s it. This isn’t about me. This is about the fact that two dudes want each other to be happy so they throw a poor girl in the mix, making themselves look bad and telling her she should go for the other guy. And you know what? That’s kind of cute. Kind of nice. Here, my asshole brother, you mean the world to me. Have this vagina for yourself.”

They
stared up at me.

I wasn’t done ranting. “
And you know what, I’m flattered that you think I could be a fit girlfriend for you, and that being said girlfriend could somehow make your existence less miserable.” I clenched my teeth. “But what in hell makes you assholes think I want that responsibility? I’m not going to give you a blow job or make you a sandwich, so—”

“Sometimes, Hazel, we’re the ones th
at like to give,” said Hunter, voice still cool.

Eyes crinkled with amusement, Ash made an ever-familiar V with his index and middle finger and put it up to his mouth. Before he could do an obscene gesture with his tongue, I
ground out, “I dare you.”

Just the tip. He let just the tip of his tongue
peek out, then licked his lips and held back a dirty little smile. I almost threw a table across the room.

“Okay,” I said to myself, taking a deep, calming breath. “Just let it go.
Shh, shh, it’s okay. God, this is hard.”

“So are we,” said Ash.

“For your benefit, I’m going to ignore that. Now,” I said, curling my hands into fists. “I think you’ve forgotten something very important here.”

Ash looked down at his bare chest. “My shirt?”

“No, you asshole,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “My feelings. That’s what you’re forgetting: my damn feelings. Why are you acting as if you’re my only options? As if you’re the only damn fish in the sea? It’s like you think I don’t have a choice. As if I
have
to go out with one of you.” I was practically spitting the words. “And let’s not forget that I don’t have to have a boyfriend. I don’t have to be with anyone, especially not the two of you. So to that, I say, fuck you. Read my lips, guys: Fuck you both.”

Hunter regarded me through hooded eyes. “We’re reading.”

“Let’s look at the flip side for a moment,” I said, starting to pace. “Hazel Lisle may be a Victoria’s Secret model, but she’s not the only girl in the world. She’s your friend, yes, and she can put up with you, and maybe that’s why you’ve been deluded into thinking she’d be willing to be your personal female sacrifice. But she would like it very much if you’d put your attention elsewhere. Because right now she’s getting freaked out. No. She’s really freaked out. She’s about to hyperventilate. She—fuck.” Suddenly, I turned on them. “Tell me this whole thing is a joke,” I begged. “Please.”

Hunter hadn’t turned Syivhail
into his normal arm, and he’d stretched it out over the back of the couch. Likewise, Ash had his arm slung over the other side, wings arched behind him. They remained silent.

“Because—” I hated to
even think it. “Because you’re both acting like—”

A
sh tapped his fingers on the sofa in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Hunter’s eyes were steady.

I tried to push past
the rock in my throat. “Like—”

Ash’s gaze didn’t waver from mine. “Like what, Hazel?”

I felt as if I’d swallowed a wet ball of fur. It couldn’t be. This—it didn’t happen. It never happened. Not in real life. Maybe in books. Maybe in movies. And in both cases it was terrible. Two poor dudes, one girl, and no possible positive outcome.

After a heavy pause
, I came around and sat on the glass table so I could face them straight on. I curled my hands around my knees. Clenched my fingers tight.

“I’m going to assume the worst,” I said as evenly as possible
. “I’m going to assume both of you want to have lasagna with me.”

It took a
second for realization to dawn on their faces. Ash murmured a soft ‘ah.’ Hunter’s reaction was less conspicuous—more of a flicker in his expression before it was back to its customary coolness again.

“Yes?” I said,
giving them a slow nod. They stared at me. “Yes. Okay. We’re on the same page. First of all—” How could I say this as gently as possible? I drummed my fingers on my knees. “Can I just—” I couldn’t. “Shit. This is—whatever you think it is, you’re wrong. It’s just a phase. You don’t actually—you can’t. It’s not a thing. It doesn’t happen.”

“Sure it does,” said Ash, his voice slow and mellow.

“I know how guys work. I know you have fantasies about your chick friends. And you know what—yeah. Yeah, I’m horny too. You’re hot and, okay, I’ll admit it—I’d fuck you without blinking an eye. That doesn’t mean I’d waste my time dating you and you’d waste your time dating me. There’s a difference between wanting to ride dick, and wanting to date the dick. Okay? So lasagna is out of the question.”

“I’m not sure,” Hunter murmured, “but I think she just rejected us.”

“That’s right. Consider yourselves rejected. Assuming you both want to shove lasagna down my throat, that is.”

A faint half-smile curled up
the side of Ash’s lips. “There’s only one thing I’d shove down your throat, Zel, and lasagna is not it.”

“Okay, yeah, see,” I said
, rising out of my seat. “You’re not going to get a girl if you talk like that. Also—let me make it clear.” I met their eyes, tone going as brittle and cold as ice. “I don’t believe for one second either of you like me. I don’t know what the fuck you were doing, impersonating each other and playing hot potato with me—throwing me back and forth as if I were a worthless piece of shit—but it wasn’t funny and I’m not laughing. Maybe you do secretly write moon-moon poetry about me and paint starry pictures of me looking into the night. For all I care, you can poop on that shit. If it’s real, it’s meaningless to me. Especially after the way you treated me.”

Both Hunter and Ash realize
d that I was serious and rose to their feet. Mouth tight, I turned and started to make my way toward the balcony, reaching for the scrunchie I’d left around my wrist.

“Hazel,” said Hunter, at the same time that Ash said, “Wait, Zel—”

I didn’t turn around. Slowly, I pulled my hair into a ponytail, feeling relieved when a swish of air brushed the nape of my neck. Neither Hunter nor Ash made a move to touch me. To speak.

“It was cruel,” I said quietly. “The game you played with me, the one you probably laughed about behind my back—it was cruel. I get it. I know. Bros before
‘hoes.’ Right?”