The Coming Dark, page 16
“Then why am I here?”
“Because you hate Axel, don’t you? And you want to bang Liana. Together those two little facts lead me to believe that you’ll keep Axel away from her.”
My cheeks burned. He didn’t have to be so creepy about it.
“Don’t speak so crudely in front of her,” Darius said, looking indignant. “Yes, I’ll keep her safe. From Axel and from my own desires.”
So he wasn’t denying that he had desires. For me. That made me pleasantly warm in my giant jacket.
“Good. Because I really don’t want to have a safe sex conversation with the two of you, and Lord knows we do not need some kind of human-demon-angel baby to contend with.”
“Seriously?” I shouted, mortified. Normally I wouldn’t yell at a teacher, but come on. “No, you do not need to have any such conversation. God!”
Darius winced. “Angel…”
“Oh, right, sorry.” I couldn’t say the G word around him. “But Mr. Dorset was out of line.”
He held up his hand and laughed, which ended on a cough. “Look, I remember being sixteen. Just because you don’t want to admit anything to me doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it, or won’t think about it. I just want you to remember that impulses have consequences.”
Embarrassed, I took the defensive. “Do I get a DARE certificate after this too? I promise not to swipe the beer in your fridge.”
Dorset stood up. “How stupid do I look? There’s no beer in the fridge. There are canned foods and dried pasta and rice. There’s water in the tap. I left my number by the wall phone because cell reception is sketchy up here. Call me only if it’s necessary, alright? I’ll be up on Sunday and we’ll figure out where we’re going to move you to.”
That was five days away. Five days alone with Darius.
I nodded.
“Burn wood for heat. Wood pile is behind the house. Blankets are in the closet.”
He looked so reluctant to leave I stood up and said, “Thanks. I feel like you’re leaving me at my first overnight camp.” If I had gone to camp. And if I’d had a father. That was how I’d imagine it would have felt.
“Then give me a hug.” He pulled me into his arms and patted me awkwardly on the back. “Be safe.”
“Thanks.” I squeezed him back, more generously than his embrace. “I will. You too.”
I watched him step off the porch and get into his car. Then he drove off.
Darius and I were alone.
“How’s your arm?” he asked.
“It’s better.” It still hurt, but Dorset had bandaged it.
I snuggled in my borrowed coat and sat back down in my chair, not sure what to do. I’d never been alone with a guy before. Not for more than an hour and even that had usually been in public places. Not isolated in the woods, with nothing but a random moose here and there to see us. I suddenly felt nervous.
“Do you need a coat? I’m sure there’s something inside,” I told him.
But he just shrugged. “I don’t get cold. Not really.”
He was still leaning there, staring out at the lake. I tucked my hair behind my ear. “So…are you hungry?”
That shoulder just lifted again.
My face felt hot despite the cold and I blurted out, “Are you mad at me?” It was a stupid thing to say and I immediately regretted it. I didn’t want to sound pathetic or needy, but neither did I want to spend the next five days in total silence.
He spun around. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“You’re hardly saying anything and you’re staring at the lake like it’s pissed you off.”
His hands were still in his pockets and he flipped his hair off his forehead in the gesture I found so adorable. “I’m just trying to work some things out in my head.”
“Like what?” Before I went crazy wondering what they were.
“I’m trying to figure out how it’s possible to feel this level of anxiety. I never have before. I heard humans talk about worrying and I didn’t…get it. But when I didn’t know where you were, when you got stabbed, I felt the most vulnerable I ever had. Weak, almost.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him, feeling contrite. I didn’t want to make him feel bad.
But he shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean. It’s not your fault. It just…is. And I don’t know what is different.”
“Maybe you’re growing up?” I asked, half joking, half serious.
“Demons don’t grow up. We get more selfish, more greedy with time.”
“Then you must not be a demon.” I knew he was, but neither of them described him. “What is my father like? How did you become friends?”
“Through our mutual hatred of Axel. When I was young and stupid I trusted Axel and he double-crossed me. I did the dirty work and he got the benefits and I ended up in prison, or the demon version of prison. He did the same thing to your father and he’s still locked up as a result of Axel’s manipulations.”
“Axel sounds like a piece of work.”
“He’s never satisfied. I suppose that makes him very common.” Darius pushed off the post. “You’re shivering. Let’s go in and I’ll build you a fire.”
“See?” I told him.
“See what?” He looked at me, puzzled.
“You’re being thoughtful. That’s human, not demon. And you did it without thinking, without wanting anything in return.”
But he shook his head. “Don’t make me out to be better than I am. I’m just a demon. You need to forget about it, about us.”
I stood up, pissed up. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Everyone always told me what to do. I’d spent my life in a box created by my parents’ disastrous relationship, trying to keep my head down and not be noticed. Don’t be the weird girl who saw her mother murdered. Don’t let anyone know Gram is going senile. Don’t make the Bradfords mad or you’ll have nowhere to go.
None of those things were in my control but my emotions were mine. No one was going to tell me how I could or couldn’t feel. Kicking my chair for good measure, all of my frustrations boiling over, I stomped off towards the door.
“Angel…” Darius touched my arm to stop me, his voice full of regret and longing.
I looked down at his wrist, at the oozing scab from where he’d cut himself badly from tearing the handcuffs apart. His fingers were long, and when they touched me, I lost all ability to think rationally. My heart kicked into overdrive, from adrenaline, from irritation, from desire. “What?” I asked him breathless. “I’m going to eat.”
“I’m trying to protect you,” he said, his eyes earnest.
“From Axel?”
He nodded. “And from me.”
His fingers cupped my cheeks, his eyes studying me, thumb tracing my bottom lip. “I’m not good for you.”
I closed my eyes, sighing, breathing in his scent, then opened them, meeting his gaze steadily. “And I’m telling you that I’ll decide what’s good for me. I don’t want to be protected from you. I just want you.”
He swore, his eyes agonized.
The moment hung between us, me confident, him torn.
Then he kissed me.
Not the soft, tentative kisses of before, but hungry kisses, his mouth owning mine. A strangled moan left me as I closed my eyes, drowning in the desire he stirred in me. With his hands free for the first time, they wandered over my back, finding their way under my shirt to touch my bare skin, while he kissed me over and over.
I didn’t feel the cold, or the wind. I felt nothing but Darius, his body pressed against mine, his arms holding me close, his lips claiming mine. I played with his hair, ran my own hands over his back, then his chest, exploring. When his kisses descended across my neck, down lower and lower, I knew we were about to do something stupid.
Darius seemed to know it too. He pulled back, breathing hard, raking his hands through his hair.
But I smiled at him, pleased. “I guess we both proved our points.”
With a soft laugh, he shook his head. “You’re going to kill me. And I don’t even remember what my point was.”
I grinned. “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a good one. Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
Half an hour later, Darius was sitting at the oak table staring at his plate uncomfortably.
“What’s the matter?” I took a bite of the spaghetti I had cooked and chewed. I hadn’t eaten in over a day and I was ravenous.
“What do I do with it?” he asked, gripping his fork like he was going to carve a pig, not eat some pasta.
“You twirl it onto your fork.” I demonstrated. “How is it that you’ve never eaten spaghetti?”
“I’m not up here all that often and I only eat because humans need to eat. I keep it simple. McDonald’s drive-thru.”
“Gross.” I wish I had a salad to go with my pasta, but the cabin was fairly lacking in supplies. But I’d found some oyster crackers and I chewed on one. “That stuff will kill you.”
Then we both looked at each other and cracked up.
“That’s not funny,” he said.
“But you’re laughing,” I pointed out, grinning. I had chosen the seat next to him at the square table, so I wasn’t directly next to him, but close enough to reach over and take his fork from him. I twirled spaghetti onto it. “Now eat.”
He shook his head, still smiling.
“Open up.”
“Don’t…”
I raised the fork and crammed it into his mouth.
His eyes widened then he pulled the spaghetti off the fork, grimacing. “Mmm. Mmm.”
Which really made me laugh. He looked like he was eating sewage, chewing carefully and slowly, before swallowing. He actually gagged at the end, his eyes watering, which made me feel slightly bad, but not enough to stop giggling.
“That was vile,” he said. “It was like a warm plate of cow’s brains.”
“When have you eaten cow’s brains?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Probably not. I took another bite, slurping up a strand. It smacked me on the cheek and I laughed, covering my face. “Don’t you feel better?” I asked him.
He swiped the stray sauce off my cheek with his finger. “No. I want French fries.”
“Good luck with that.” I popped another cracker in my mouth.
“How did you learn to cook?” he asked me, ignoring his food.
I gestured to my plate, surprised. “This isn’t cooking. It’s just boiling water and sliding spaghetti in. But my gram was sick for a long time before she went into the nursing home. I had to figure it out or starve.”
His laughter had died out entirely. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me. “It is what it is. My grandmother is amazing.”
He nodded. “I would like to meet her.”
“If I could get there without endangering her, I’d like to see her.”
Darius nodded, his expression brooding again. I ate the rest of my dinner in silence, then started cleaning up. He tried to help me, but it was clear he’d never done dishes either. He splashed water everywhere and squirted enough soap to clean every plate in Bay High’s cafeteria.
The remote control on the TV was a mystery to him as well. He kept studying it and pressing buttons randomly. Finally he tossed it on the coffee table in disgust and held his hand out to the TV. Faster than I could follow he somehow used his powers to change the channels, flying through the limited selection. He briefly paused but when we both realized it was a pair of lions mating on the nature channel, he made a sound and kept going. When he found the cooking channel, it seemed to intrigue him and he sat down on the couch to watch.
Really? I had no desire to watch how to prepare a beef tenderloin but whatever. I sat down next to him, my hands on the knees of my jeans. I was glad I’d been wearing jeans and a sweater when I’d gone to the storage unit, otherwise I could be sitting around in my school uniform and that would have really sucked.
“Tomorrow I’m going to teach you how to fight,” Darius said after a few minutes. “You should learn some basics.”
“Okay.” I yawned.
“Are you tired?” he asked, ripping his eyes off the TV, where a perky blonde chef who clearly didn’t eat was hacking into a side of beef with a huge knife.
I hated knives. Not wanting to stay up and watch this, I nodded. I was worn out and my arm was starting to throb harder.
“Let’s put you to bed.”
I laughed at his wording. “I’m not five. I can put myself to bed. You can stay up if you want.”
“Let me help you.”
I wasn’t sure what he was supposed to help me do, but I didn’t protest a second time. Darius was clearly as nervous about our arrangement as I was. He attempted to help me make up the bed with the sheets from the dresser, but he had no idea what he was doing, so in the end he hovered, biting his fingernail, while I finished. I had a tank top on under my sweater so I pulled it off, but I left my jeans on. Sliding into the cool sheets, I settled down onto the pillow and stared at him. The cabin was cold and dark, and a tree branch was tapping the windowpane behind my head. I felt a niggle of unease.
“Will you stay with me for awhile?” I asked.
He nodded. Climbing onto the bed, he laid down next to me, on top of the covers.
I snuggled a little closer to him, cold. Turning on his side, his hand idly drifted over my stomach.
“I kind of miss the handcuffs,” he said.
“What? Why?” I didn’t miss them at all.
“It kept me out of trouble.”
I didn’t respond, because I wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted him to touch me, but I wasn’t sure how much. I just knew I wanted to be close to him, that I wanted to fall asleep with his arm over me, his body nudged against mine, his breathing deep and low in my ear. It was the first time in a very long time that I felt taken care of, and I didn’t want it to go away.
So I kept quiet and entwined my fingers through his, clasping tightly so that he couldn’t leave.
When I woke up in the morning, we were in the exact same position and his eyes were still open, still on me.
Chapter Nineteen
Combat
“You just need to grip it harder,” Darius said to me as I gingerly held a giant knife like it was radioactive.
That was just too good to pass up. “How many girls have you said that to?” I muttered.
“What?” Then he realized my implication. “Angel!”
“You know, for a demon you’re kind of a prude. And you didn’t answer the question.” I was playing with fire, I knew, and suddenly I felt a little jealous, but now that it was out there, I wanted to know. We were out in the stretch of brown grass before the sand of the beach began, and I had tied my hair up in a bun. I moved the knife back and forth from hand to hand, not wanting to hold its true weight.
“I didn’t realize it was a serious question. But the answer is not nearly as many as you’d think. Now seriously, grip the knife harder or you’re going to drop it on your foot.”
“Have I mentioned I hate knives?” I asked him.
“About six times already. I got it. But I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
“From what?” We both knew what I was asking. Demons or humans.
But Darius shrugged. “From anything.”
He seemed to love the idea that he could teach me something and I was more than willing to let him. I knew he was right. I needed to have a way to distract, catch the enemy off guard, so I could run a safe distance and begin an exorcism. If it was a demon. If it was a human, I just needed to be able to sink the knife.
The thought of it made me sick.
“I do all right in my combat class with one on one. I beat John in class Friday.”
“Who is John? The skinny guy with the glasses? He would lose to a six-year-old. He doesn’t try.”
I pictured a raging six-year-old taking a jab at John with a sword while he yawned and pushed up his glasses. “Okay, you have a point.”
“You saw first-hand how you never know when you’re going to need a weapon.” Darius started circling me, slowly, like a predator does its prey, like a boxer sizing up their opponent.
It unnerved me a little. I wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing. “Isn’t my weapon my words?” I could protect myself with Latin.
“If it’s a demon, sure. But what if he gets the jump on you?”
He was behind me now, and I whipped around, refusing to ask him what the hell he was doing.
“Well, I fight back, I guess.”
“Yes. With a knife. And then your words.”
“This hasn’t been dipped in holy water, has it?” I asked, the skin on my arm still tight and painful as it healed.
“Now where would I get holy water?” he asked, his serious mask slipping as he cracked a smile.
Duh. “Good point.”
“And obviously, while most hunters use holy water and a mix of metals, primarily iron, which can sap demon strength, you can’t be carrying either one because of your unique situation.”
That was me. A unique situation. “How about I just don’t carry a knife?” I asked, hopefully.
He rolled his eyes. “Is Latin going to protect you from some vigilante hunter? Who has a knife himself and won’t hesitate to slice you from ear to ear?”
My stomach clenched a little. All of this sounded very bloody. I was glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Chase popped into my head and I brought the knife down, swallowing hard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, seeing my expression. “I wasn’t thinking…I forgot…”
“It’s okay.” It really wasn’t, but it wasn’t Darius’s fault. But it did remind me that I couldn’t dance and snark my way around this. Chase had known it was serious and he had trained with a single-minded determination. He had known his job and hadn’t hesitated to do his duty.
I needed to make sure he hadn’t died for no apparent reason. I needed to defeat Axel, and in the meantime I needed to protect myself.
“Were you close to him?” Darius asked, the wind lifting his bangs and sending them straight up. He wasn’t wearing a coat, and his Metallica t-shirt was a dark backdrop for the shiny knife he held in his hand.
