Darksoul (8 page)

Impassive gray eyes.
Not half as soft as they were a moment ago. “Sounds like you think we’re friends.”

“Well, I don’t hate you as much as I did a week ago, so—”

“We’re not friends.” He was close enough to touch, and as he blew out another trail of smoke, it spilled over my face. I coughed into my sleeve and glared at him. “We’ll never be.”

Seriously? “Okay, newsflash, asshole. I don’t need you. See,
I
have friends. You don’t.”

“Friends?” He blinked once. “You mean that gu
y you’re huffing after but who won’t look twice at you? He clearly wouldn’t poke you with a mile-long pole, Hazel. Give up already.”

I clenched my teeth, fighting off tears. Back to square one. “You know what, Slade? Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” he echoed, blowing a puff of smoke into my face again. “No. Sorry. I wouldn’t stick it up your ass even if you paid me.”

A tear spilled. “I’m pretty sure I
can find a better place to get herpes. Like the public toilet.”

Before he could respond, I shoved off the curve and pedaled away, rushing into the dying autumn light. It was way too much. The attack, the monster
s, Ash, a hostile blonde smoker, angels with silver, deadly feathers and boys with arms made of ice—
Though
two of those might just be synonymous with one another.

I ripped down the street, chilly air stinging my
cheeks. Wings fluttered overhead. I ignored them. When I stopped at the intersection light, I looked back, sending Hunter a mean, non-quivery scowl.

But then I
paused.

Hunter was gone.

Chapter 7

When Mom arrived from work
that night, she came in with one thing on her tongue, and one thing only. Kicking off her heels, she barged into the kitchen and demanded, “I want you to call Hunter, the boy who gave you a ride today, so he and I can have a talk. I don’t know him, and I
need
to know him, and—well, obviously he got you to Marco’s—but—”

She cut off when she saw the look on my face. I was
lifelessly standing by the stove, trying to make dinner.

“Honey?” she asked, coming
to my side. “What’s wrong?”

Blinking back to the present, I muster
ed up a smile. “I’m okay. Really. I’m…”

I
trailed off when her eyes drifted to the countertop. Our knives and forks sat there, along with the house scissors and Mom’s sharp tweezers. She dropped her hands and turned in a full circle, sucking in her breath. The old tools that had been in the garage—screwdrivers, pliers, hammers, wrenches, even a small handsaw—were strewn on the kitchen island. Two plates lay broken on the floor. The pointiest, biggest parts had been set apart, as though they’d passed some kind of inspection.

“I’m sorry.” The
words scraped out of my lips, quiet and raw. My chin quivered and, hugging myself, I crumpled to the ground. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m sorry I made such a mess—”

“No,
no,” she said, her voice gentle, as if she were speaking to a spooked horse. “Now, Hazel, honey? I want you to tell me what’s wrong. I want you to tell me why you brought out every pointy thing in this house.”

I grabbed her legs and hugged them to me, clutching at her pants. “Nothing’s going
to happen to you,” I whispered. “The monsters won’t touch you. I’ll cut them up. I’ll cut them all.”

She sounded alarmed. “Hazel?”

“They tried to get me. They won’t get you. It was just four, five. How many more are there? How many more—”

She stooped down and brought me into her arms, and I clutched her against me. “It’s okay,” I
whispered. “They’re out there, they want me, they want you, but, Mom, if it’s the last thing I do, I will kill them—”

“
Shh, shh.” A moment later she grabbed her phone and dialed up someone, her fingertips working magic down my scalp.

“Allie?” she said, her voice quiet. “I
’m so sorry, darling, but we have to cancel tonight. Yes…yes, I was going bowling with Hazel…something came up. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

I shuddered in Mom’s arms. She
rose and got me a blanket, and warmth spread across my shoulders as she dropped the quilt over me. Like a wet cat, I stayed on the ground, shivering.

After a while
, she tried to put away the knives, but stopped on her tracks when I suddenly jumped to my feet.

“No,” I said, going over and taking them out again. “No, no, no, no—”

“Sweetheart,” she said gently. “I think the safest thing right now would be—”

“No!” I shouted.

She frowned. It wasn’t an angry frown, but rather a troubled one.

“You have everyt
hing you need?” I asked, trembling as I rounded up the biggest knives.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go to your room. Grab some water. Some cereal bars. Come on.”

She didn’t move. My tone wasn’t the most daughterly one, but I don’t think that’s what miffed her. “Hazel, it’s not the end of the world—”

“Lock the doors,” I said.

After a sigh,
she did so. Then she followed me upstairs, silent. I engaged the lock as soon as we were inside her room. Grip deathly tight on the knives, I plopped down in front of the door.

“Honey, if you’re going to be sleeping in here,
you’re to use my bed. Do you understand?”

My head shook with a twitch. “I’m not going to let them come in.”

“Then if you’re going to be on the floor, I will be, too.”

“No!” I shouted again. “Get on the bed. Get comfortable. You’re tired.”

She paused. “Would that make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want you to look, okay? Look.” My eyes flicked to hers. She got in her bed, doing so slowly as though not to startle me. “I’m very comfortable. Mommy’s very comfortable. Okay?”

“Sleep well.”

“I’m going to turn off the lights now. Is that okay?”

“They like the dark,” I whispered to myself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Sleep well.”

K
eeping an eye on me, she turned off one of her lamps. “I’m going to leave the other one on. You seem a little spooked. Is that okay, too?”

I nodded.

“I’m going to sleep, baby. I’m sure you’ll…you’ll keep them out.” Her voice broke in that last part, as though she couldn’t believe she was saying it. Dealing with her seemingly loony daughter must’ve been a handful. But I wasn’t crazy. I knew what I’d seen earlier that afternoon. Who cared if Ash had been with two girls at once and Hunter had shoved a cigarette up my nose, called me the ugliest chick alive, and once again reiterated his distaste for everything that had to do with me?

I couldn’t care about them. Not right now. If those damned—creatures touched my mom—

No. They would never touch her. Not on my watch. Not while I was here.

Not ever.

Incredibly, I managed to fall asleep sitting right there, guarding the door. I didn’t mean to. It must’ve been for only a few hours, because when I came to, the clock on Mom’s bedside table read three past two.

And then I froze.
Everything around me was dark. The lamp had been turned off. I tensed, but didn’t move. Nothing was out of place.

Except for the
silvery orb of light hovering in front of me.

Startled,
I reared back. Despite its brightness, it didn’t light much of the room, darkness clutching the edges of its faint halo. I considered lashing out at it. Didn’t. Instead, I watched in wary fascination as it unfurled in the air, stretching into a shapeless blob of light. Two dark eyes blinked at me. Then the little creature giggled and fluttered closer, touching the tip of my nose with a shining paw.

Our gazes met. I
t smiled again, its mouth spreading into a toothless grin. Then it purred something and stroked the side of my face with its small mitt. As if it were worried. As if it were asking me what was wrong. I reached up to touch it, but it skittered away, dancing across my neck and wiggling up my jaw.

“No, no,” I whispered. “Stay.”

I don’t think it meant to leave. Right away, it came back and nuzzled my cheek. It was warm, and now that it wasn’t flying wild and going as fast as lightning, it felt furry, as though it were a teddy bear. I hesitantly reached up to brush the back of my forefinger against it. When it didn’t wink away, I cradled it to me. Its warmth was so calming, its furriness so soft. Soon, I succumbed to sleep once again.

Arms wrapped around
me. A soothing whisper.

“
Shh.”

Silver. The room was silver. The arms shifted. My eyes clung to one of them, to the drawings on it. Dark. Deadly. A skull. A frown crawled across my mouth. Who would want a skull on their skin?

Gently. “Shh…shh…”

The air smelled sweet. Minty. Like cigarettes. Mixed with something else.

“Shh
…
”

I closed my eyes and melted into the warmth.

Chapter
8

I spent the entire day
Saturday working on my costume.

It
had been a strange morning. I’d woken up in my room, cocooned in a nest of blankets. The furry blob of light had been sprawled on my stomach. I’d tried to scoop it up and place it on my pillow, where it could continue sleeping, but its eyes fluttered open at my touch. Immediately, it giggled and flew up to land a kiss on my nose.

I’d stayed statue still. Yesterday
was a faraway haze, and I didn’t think that this particular part of the evening had been real. But there it was, soft and warm as it nuzzled my cheek. It obviously didn’t mean me any harm. I just wasn’t sure…

Angels with bladed wings. Boys with tapere
d arms. Monsters with eyes full of claws. And now a cute creature of light?

Unbelievable.
That’s what this whole thing was.

Unbelievable.

Mom had been sleeping when I went to check on her. Later, when she woke up to go to work, she acted as though nothing had happened yesterday. No. Not acting. It was like she didn’t remember. And I planned to keep it that way.

When I went
downstairs, I found that there was nothing to be seen of my breakdown yesterday. No broken plates. No knives, no forks, no hammer, no scissors. I wanted to feel relieved, but in truth I felt violated. I tried not to. It’d probably been Mr. Angel and I should be grateful. After all, he didn’t steal the TV or go through my underwear. Right.

After
Mom left, I took out a knife and kept it close to me. Then I put on my awesome cello music and blasted it through the whole house. The tuft of light sat on my shoulder. Sometimes it purred or said something that sounded like babyish babble. At one point, its shapeless paw caressed my jaw. Softly. Tenderly. Like it wanted to soothe me.

“Are you actually…real?”
I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, gripping my towel. Fuzzy and bright, the little thing lounged on my collarbone, blinking at my reflection. “Can I just…”

Swallowing
, I reached up, but it skittered away. “No, no,” I said softly. “Stay still. I just want to touch you, okay?”

At
last, it rolled to a stop in front of me. I stretched a hand toward it and brushed the back of my forefinger against its cheek. There was a content purr. A tiny smile.

Okay. So…maybe
it wasn’t so bad. “I guess…I should call you something, eh? You’re obviously here to stay. Right, little one?”

It tilted
its head to the side.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little
. “Jesus, you’re adorable.”

When it saw me laughing, it grinned and patted its paws together, like it was clapping.

I felt my face soften. The cuteness was unbearable. “What do you want me to call you? Light? Cutie pie? Bubbles?” But I didn’t like those, so I said, “Erm…how about…Li? Something short? Or…?”

A purr. It
fluttered forward and landed a soft paw on the tip of my nose.

“Uh…Nose?
You want me to call you Nose?” It giggled at the ridiculous name, and I agreed. “Hmm. How about…” I came up with something off the top of my head and thought what the hell. “Uh…Io?”

It co
cked its head to the side again.

“Io,” I repeated, and smiled. “Like,
Ee-yo
. You like that?”

Giggling, it flew closer and nu
zzled my cheek. I reached up, stroked it with an index finger. “Hi, Io,” I said gently. It purred something back and leaned into me.

For the rest of the day, I focused on getting ahold of myself. I was fine with Io, with her existence. Okay. So there were inhuman things in the world. Lovely. Angels existed. Even lovelier. And there were boys who could transform their arms into weapons made of glass.

Fantastic.

But every time I blinked, I saw them flashing behind my lids. The monsters. Their claws. Even though it was day and more than enough sunlight
poured into the house, I kept the lights on and the closet doors open, afraid that something might be hiding within our coats, or behind our cans of food. I couldn’t help but feel skittish.

But tonight, I decided, I would get over it, and I would enjoy myself.

So I tried to calm down, to steady my breathing. Io was with me, and who knew what she was capable of? At least I wasn’t alone. Not completely. I would push aside the terrifying memory and act as if nothing had happened. If Ash was at the party, I might mention it, see his reaction. He had to know something. He’d been too close to the scene of the crime for it to be a coincidence.

Other than that, though, I would do nothing else about it. Maybe, in the distant future, I might look
back and see it as nothing more than a passing nightmare. It would fade, as all memories do. And I’d be fine. I would live. Right?

At around six o’clock, Mom called me from work. For the thousandth time, she said
that I was to come home no later than one in the morning, that I shouldn’t drink unless there was a designated driver, that I was only allowed one beer, and that—
“Mom, relax,” I said, laughing. Io grinned and patted her—I decided it was
a her—paws together. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Her voice was tight.
“Are you sure?”

“Of course
.” I smeared on the last of the eyeliner before leaning back to see how I’d done. Not bad. “I promise to be good. I’m always good.” Or I tried to be. She didn’t know I cursed like a sailor. Or that I secretly enjoyed it when Ash said his dirty jokes.

“That’s my girl. Don’t let Asher kiss you.”

As Hunter oh-so-wisely said, Ash wouldn’t poke me with a mile-long pole. “He won’t kiss me,” I said, unscrewing the cap of my neon red lipstick and puckering my lips at the mirror. “That I can assure you.”

She took a deep breath.
“Look, honey, I know you like him—”

I nearly dropped the lipstick. “What?”

“We’ve gone over this, Hazel Marie. I’m not blind.”

“I’m—I’m sure you’re not, but—”

“I know you like him, which is why I’m worried. If he comes onto you with that pretty face—”

“He won’
t come onto me,” I said. “He’s had the chance to since, like, sixth grade. If he hasn’t made a move, then he won’t make a move. Okay? So please,
please
relax, Mom. There are worse guys in the world.” Ahem. Hunter. Ahem.

She sighed. “I trust you, baby.”

“I know you do.”

After I hung up, I stepped back from the mirror and dared to think I didn’t look half bad. I wor
e a pair of devil horns and a red tail that came to an arrow-shaped point. A short pleated skirt with frills underneath, too, and a leather crop top. Add my combat boots, and voila. The outfit was more awesome than cello music, Butterfingers, and the idea of kicking Hunter in the face at the same time.

Sumi came knocking on my door at seven, looking amazing in a Princess Ariel costume, clam bra and all, bare midriff and all.
She had a purse slung over one shoulder, and a book peeked out from within.

“
Dayum, babe,” I said, hugging her as we made our way to Ash’s car. Io rested on my head, warm and pleasant, and had gone unnoticed by Sumi so far. As always, my camera hung around my neck. “You look so hot, even I’d do you.”

Honestly. With her fluffed pink hair, leather jacket, and edgy eyeliner, she looked like a punkier and infinitely sexier version of the redheaded Disney cartoon.

She nudged me on the side. “And I’d do you right back.”

Suppressing
a smile, I climbed into the car. Sumi slid into the driver’s seat, turned the engine over and smoothly peeled out of the driveway.

“Where’s Ash?”
I asked.

“
He’s there already. Waiting for us.”

“Talking up the ladies.”

“That’s our boy.” Her mouth thinned. “That’ll always be our boy.”

I considered it
. “Do you think he actually likes them?”

She
looked at me out of the corner of her eye, her lips tilting into a knowing little smile. “Interesting question,
Hazeru-chan
.”

“Oh, please, Sums. Don’t tell me you don’t wonder, too.”

“I don’t wonder.”

“What?”

“I don’t wonder because I already know.”

When she didn’t elaborate, I leaned
toward her. “Well? Are you going to let me in on it or not?
Wink wink. Wink wink
.”

She pursed her lips to hold back laughter
and made a left turn in the next intersection.

The party was
at the edge of town. It was a pretty bike-friendly distance—thirty minutes tops if I went fast enough. But when I saw where she was taking us, my mouth fell open.

Two massive gates
rose in front of us. Beyond them, a mansion waited, pulsing lights blinking through its windows and deep bass music rumbling through its old but pristine walls. Awed, I stared at the circular driveway. At the fountain that stood in the middle. A slew of cars was scattered all over, and a mass of people were struggling to get in through the front door.

Sumi parked the car
and led us to the entrance. As we walked past, some guys checked us out, their eyes lingering in several places. Her clam bra was a popular choice. The back of my miniskirt was also another. I held back the urge to flip them off.

The inside of the house was just as amazing as the outside. Marble floors. High chandeliers. Grand stairs. The whole deal. The living room had been turned into the dance floor, and a mass of indistinguishable bodies writhed and jumped to the thumping bass music. The lights had been
flipped off, and multi-colored swaths flittered around. I could see a hint of Halloween here and there, but if it weren’t for the costumes, this would be like any other party I’d been to.

Sumi pulled m
e into the dance floor. I laughed as I followed.

A
fter a good forty-five minutes of jumping, I leaned toward her. “Going…to get…water!”

Sweat lined her temples. She nodded wildly and then kept dancing to the beat.

In the luxurious kitchen, I swiped up a water bottle and chugged it in a couple of gulps. Then, unable to help myself, I turned on my camera.

The
room itself was a work of art. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling and illuminated the beige-hued walls, marble countertops and dark floor with warm light. A table was laid out with a string of delicacies and desserts, platters full of buttery crackers and exquisite cheeses. Normal things—like Cheetos and chips—lay in silver bowls.

I wasn’t the only one here. A couple was pretty much humping against the countertop, their pants nearly hanging off their waists. A girl stood against the wall,
staring absentmindedly into a red cup, and someone was checking out the refrigerator. Laughter wafted from somewhere nearby. Closed French doors led to what I assumed was a balcony. I moved toward them, having sworn to photograph the entirety of this place. Seriously. Damn beautiful. If I could marry it, I would.

As soon as I
opened the curtained doors and stepped into the cold, I stopped on my tracks.

No. No.

Oh, no.

There was Hunter. Standing close to the balcony’s balustrade
. Blonde hair unkempt, wild, nearly falling into his eyes. Laughing at something. It transformed his face, brought out his dimples and warmed his gaze. He wore a vintage-looking shirt with three stripes. After a moment, I recognized it as the French flag.

And beside him?

Beside him was Ash.

Black hair as tousled as Hunter’s. Wild, inky, n
early falling into his eyes. He was speaking smooth, fluent French and held a beer, like his blonde counterpart. He also wore a vintage-looking shirt, though his had red-and-white stripes and a blue square near his shoulder. The American flag. Without his hoodie, I could almost believe—I could almost forget. Almost, but not quite.

Hunter
responded to Ash in equally silky French, bringing a cigarette to his lips. Ash held one too, gray clumps falling off the tip. Eyebrow twitching, I approached. They both turned when they saw me coming—
A
nd froze. At the same time.

Hunter stared at me. Ash’s lips parted.

Giving them a sweet, sweet smile, I clapped once. “Oh, this is just fucking dandy. Here we have Asshole Number One, making Asshole Number Two into a bigger asshole than he already is. This is great. Ash, put that fucking cigarette away. Slade, go choke on a potato and die.”

My words had no effect on them. Their eyes had slid down to my chest and lingered.

“Yes, yes, my boobs are beautiful,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of their faces. “Moving on to more important things. Like your stupid costumes.” Frowning, I looked them up and down. “
What the hell are the two of you supposed to be, anyway? An American? A Frenchman?”