PEACE LIVES HERE.
It's swims within the cool, clear waters carried by a rippling tide. It shines in the bright sun hanging above, radiating warmth and life. It's buried in the soft sands beneath me, tickling my toes and the back of my legs with tiny, grainy kisses. It's carried by the sweet winds that caress the tops of my shoulders.
There's no suffering in this place. No pain. No strife. It's my very own hidden paradise.
I sit in the same spot where Dorian had made love to me under a million stars. The same spot we’d sat when I died and my mind and body had needed time to heal.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
His voice both revolts and thrills me. It's not that I'm surprised he's here–I'm wise enough to know that he's never too far away–but I was seeking peace. Serenity. A safe house in the midst of a harsh storm.
"That's why I'm here," he says, reading my thoughts. "You recognize what I could provide you–safety, comfort, contentment. Do you not remember the last time we were here together? The way you wanted to please me? The joy you felt with just an ounce of my appreciation? Imagine the full impact of my favor, Gabriella. You would never have to feel anything more than bliss for the rest of your days."
I turn towards Stavros's voice although I know he is not there. My blood doesn't sizzle in my veins. My skin doesn't dampen and ache to be touched. My mouth doesn't salivate with the uncontrollable need to have him on my tongue.
"But you want to hurt me," I manage to say, sounding every bit of the meek, little girl that he believes me to be.
He laughs, and a frigid gust of wind rakes over my skin, pebbling my nipples. "I do not want to hurt you, Gabriella. I want to teach you. I want to guide you. And when you're ready, I want to fuck you. And I will. You and I both know it. You were not meant to lay with a mere prince. You were made to inhabit the bed of a king. To sit beside him on a throne built of the sacred blood of Dark royals. You need a man, Gabriella. Not a boy."
I want to dispute his claims—to tell him that Dorian is all the man that I’ll ever need—but the tide suddenly rises and I'm lying in two inches of freezing cold water. Dark clouds eclipse the bright sun and the soft sands harden against my skin.
I twist and turn my body, but I sink deeper into the water. The flawless white sand that used to tickle my toes becomes dark and sticky, grasping onto my limbs, pulling me under like a vacuum. I fight to stay at the surface, but it’s too strong. Within seconds my arms and legs have been completely devoured by the quicksand. I open my mouth to scream, hoping that the king will show mercy, but a bolt of lightning slices open the sky, purging torrential rains from the heavens.
I can’t breathe. I’m choking, drowning. My body is bound by the earth, while the sky punishes me with a sheet of rain so thick, I can’t even see two inches in front of me. Water collects in my eyes, my nose, my mouth. And although I can no longer hear the roar of the wind, I hear his laughter taunting me once more, before the earth swallows me whole.
I AWAKE THRASHING, gulping air, clawing at pillows and blankets like I’m fighting for my life. I’m face down, but there is no quicksand. I’m not being buried alive on that beach in Skiathos. I’m in my bedroom, and I’m completely dry, save for the feel of wet, soft velvet brushing my back with slow, gentle strokes. It leaves behind a trail of pleasurable tingles, blooming sensation up and down my spine. I’ve felt that softness before. On my lips, on my nipples, between my thighs. It’s brought me more pleasure that any one person should be allowed to feel.
“You’re licking me?” I whisper. I knew Dorian was here, the moment I opened my eyes. His scent of rainwater and sex surrounds me, intoxicating my senses.
He shifts, settling beside me, and the velvet strokes cease. Still, warmth and comfort continue to radiate over my back.
“My hands are skilled, but my tongue can give you so much more.” I don’t miss the smile in his voice. Even when he’s concerned for me, he can’t help but drip with eroticism. “I came as soon as I felt your agony, but you had just fallen unconscious. How do you feel?”
I do a mental assessment of my body, grateful that the spontaneous, searing pain is gone. There’s not even a hint of vomit on me, save for the vile taste in my mouth. He must’ve cleansed me before putting me to bed.
“What happened?” My voice is raspy from screaming and retching, and it hurts to swallow. Feeling my discomfort, Dorian hands me a glass of water that I appreciatively gulp down in seconds. “There was so much pain…then I was on the beach…” With Stavros.
I turn to my side and glimpse the tight, grim line of his lips. “I know. I brought you back. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when it happened. I was so sure that you had been spared.”
I pull the sheets up to cover my bare breasts before sitting up. “Spared?”
“From the curse. Your mark.”
My mark? My hand flies to my shoulder blade where my fingers trace a patch of raised skin, indicating some type of design. It’s cold to the touch, yet it doesn’t hurt. I’ve been marked. While I was writhing on the floor, feeling like something or someone was carving their initials in my skin with a blistering poker, I had been tagged as a corrupted beast—the price I’d been forced to pay for simply being born to a Dark father.
After the Dark disbanded from the Light, the Divine cursed them to wear a mark signifying their family name. It was only visible to those who were supernatural, or Otherworldlings, as Dorian put it, as a way to identify their shame and perversion. Dorian wore his on his ribs, bold script that read Skotos in Greek lettering. When nothing showed up the moment I ascended, I just assumed that my Light side had pretty much cancelled out my Dark. Especially considering that my magic is operating on a different wavelength than any of the two powers.
I bound out of bed and race to the bathroom, eager to see the brand that will be etched into my skin for eternity. How could I possibly be categorized? Polemos? Will the sins of my father haunt me for the rest of my days? Or have I created a new house, completely unique to who and what I am?
Naked from the waist up, I turn at just the right angle to see a symbol carved into my right shoulder blade. It’s an upside down triangle, although it’s broken at the very top and the two ends don’t meet. Within the triangle, there appears to be a P with an X branching from it. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and certainly nothing like the tattoos those Dark wannabes received.
“What is it?”
Dorian steps into view behind me and rests his hands gingerly on my shoulders. “The upturned triangle is what we symbolize as human. The emblem inside it is the Polemos house sigil.”
I frown. “But that doesn’t make sense. Yeah, I get the part about Polemos, but I’m not human. Right?”
He nods once, letting his solemn gaze drop to the floor. But not before I see the apology in his eyes. “You are not. And the break in the triangle signifies a flaw—a fracture. As if a human was broken enough to be infiltrated by magic. Polemos magic, to be exact.”
The full impact of his words hits me hard enough to make my knees buckle. Dorian swiftly catches my falter, and I lean against the sink, letting the pieces fall together. “This symbol doesn’t represent me, does it? This isn’t my mark.”
He shakes his head, cringing.
“It’s my punishment, right? My cross to bear for killing that boy…that innocent, human, fucking kid that was possessed and sent on a suicide mission by a piece of shit Dark coward.”
“I’m sorry, little girl.”
I’m sorry, little girl.
“Oh my God. Jared,” I whisper as remembrance slams into me. “What happened, Dorian? Is he ok? Where is he now?”
Again, Dorian looks at me with regret in those endless baby blues, and I feel my blood grow cold. “The boy is fine.”
Fine? Then why the hell is he looking at me like that? Like he’s just discovered that last bit of my heart that’s still unmarred, still beating with life, only so he can crush it in the palm of his hand?
“Well, where is he? Can I see him? Give me the keys. I’ll shoot over to his room now.” I take a step toward the bedroom, and Dorian stops my advance with a hand on my elbow.
“That’s not possible, Gabriella. He’s…gone.”
“Gone?” I pull out of his grasp as if his fingertips are laced with arsenic. “You just said he was fine. What happened over there? What is it that you’re not telling me?”
He opens his mouth, but quickly snaps it shut before diverting his eyes. I know that gesture. I despise that gesture. It’s Dorian’s way of averting the question. He can’t lie, so simply omitting the truth is the next best thing. I won’t let him get away with it. Not this time. He will tell me what happened even if I have to infiltrate his inner most thoughts and feelings and sift them out myself.
“Don’t,” he murmurs through a tightly clenched jaw. He shoots me a look that flares with the promise of violence if I push him. Bring it.
“Tell me, Dorian. I won’t ask you again.”
He bores that penetrating gaze into me, the one that says he’s two seconds away from unleashing his inner demon and making me eat my words. He doesn’t do threats—give or take. “Leave it alone, Gabriella.” There’s a peculiar inflection in his voice, as if he’s just been transported to ancient Greece.
“I won’t let this go.” I shake my head, my eyes still locked on his so he can see the resolution in pools of blue and gold. “He’s my friend, Dorian. You know how I feel about him. And if you think I’ll just pick up and move on without knowing he’s ok, then you honestly know nothing about me.”
He’s as still as stone, completely unmovable, for a long beat before releasing a resigned sigh. “He’s at the airport. He’s transferring to Notre Dame for their soccer program. A slot just opened up recently, and he has to be there today.”
“What?” I take a step back, putting even more distance between us. “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the semester. He’s a junior. Why would he transfer now? And all the way to Notre Dame? How is that even…”
I stand there, mouth agape, finally seeing the real reason Dorian has been looking at me with such guilt and anger painted on his face. He’s guilty because he had something to do with Jared’s sudden move across country. And angry with himself because he knew this would hurt me.
“Why were you at Jared’s dorm, Dorian? What reason would you have to tear yourself from my bed during the time I needed you the most, just to pay Jared a visit in the middle of the night?” My voice is calm, cold, much like his own.
“You know why, Gabriella. You saw what happened with Donna. Did you really think I’d let that happen again?”
I purse my lips and lift an accusing brow. “So you’re telling me that you did this for me.” It’s not a question. “That this has nothing to do with you wanting Jared out of the picture for good.”
“Have you given me a reason to want that?” He pins me with a glare as icy as his words.
“Absolutely not,” I say, rolling my eyes. “My loyalty has never been on trial. Can you say the same?”
Dorian sucks his teeth and snorts, a tight, sardonic smile on his lips. “Your friend was in danger, Gabriella. The girl who tried to attack him had been compelled by an Orexis—she shared their brand and had their magic on her lips. I did what needed to be done to ensure his safety, which included exposing myself. I didn’t have any other option. Should I have stood by and let him accept her kiss? To have the very life sucked from his body by a small, unsuspecting girl?”
“No, of course not—”
“Then what is it you want from me? You want me to suffer for what I’ve done? You want me to feel bad for wanting you all to myself? Because I don’t. I won’t apologize for doing what needed to be done.”
His words take the steam right out of me, and I bite back my initial retort. “I just wish you would’ve told me. So I could say goodbye...So I could tell him…” I shake the thoughts from my head and turn towards the bedroom. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get to the airport.”
“No.” The finality in his voice stops me up short, and I turn back to him.
“No?”
“No.” He scrubs a hand over his face, the static of aggravation rolling off him in waves. “It’s impossible.”
“Impossible?” I touch my palms to his chest, fully aware of my current state of undress. If he won’t listen to reason, maybe a little distraction will do the trick. “Nothing is impossible, Dorian. You of all people should know that.”
He leans into my touch, eyes closed, and inhales the small space between us. “He…he no longer knows you. You can’t say goodbye, because Jared has no recollection of you ever being a part of his life.”
I hear his words, but I can’t digest them. I refuse to let them be real.
Dorian has reversed Jared’s memories of me.
Every sweet smile, every tender brush of his hand, every warm hug that somehow engulfed my entire frame into the hardness of his body. Gone. Wiped away clean at the hands of the man I chose over the guy I once thought I loved. The guy I thought I would spend the rest of my life with.
“How could you?” My lower lip trembles, but I capture it with my teeth, refusing to show weakness. “Fuck this. I’m going to the airport. Jared is my friend. If he doesn’t remember me, I’ll make him.” I grab some mouthwash and swish it around in my mouth for a few seconds to dispel the taste of vomit, then throw my hair into a sloppy bun.
“Gabriella, I can’t let you do that.” Dorian is behind me, watching me as I whip out an old pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt that says Spring Break 2009.
“Oh yeah? Try to stop me.”
I finish dressing, refusing to acknowledge his penetrating stare. Dorian knew what he was doing by not at least informing me of his intentions. I appreciate him for saving Jared’s life, but his plans to reverse Jared’s memory was premeditated. That’s why he left me. It wasn’t to make sure my friend was safe; he knew he was stealing him away from me when he tore himself from my bed. He loved me so thoroughly and so tenderly just so he could rip another piece of my heart out.
I whip through the house like a tornado, calling out for Morgan, who I find sitting on the couch with Alexander. They’re being…normal. Watching TV and sipping from mugs of hot coffee. She looks better—rested—save for the tiny worried lines in her forehead.
“What’s wrong, Gabs?” She pushes Dolce off her lap, who quickly scampers out of sight. A smaller, weaker beast can always sense when a more vicious predator is near.
“Come on, we gotta go get Jared from the airport.”
“Airport? What are you talking about, Gabs?” She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out if I’m serious or delusional. “When did you speak to him? I thought you two weren’t—”
“I’ll explain on the way.” I toss her the keys to her car and her purse. Still, she doesn’t move. “Morgan. We have to go now!”
She casts a glance at Alexander then Dorian before giving me a nervous smile, confusion tightening her lips. Her reluctance infuriates me. I’m her friend. She should trust me. Two days ago, she was scared shitless of these men, and now she’s looking to them for guidance? Have I become that much of a liability? Or do they all pity me—the poor, little, almost-orphaned girl who doesn’t even know what the fuck she is?
“Fuck it,” I spit out, snatching her keys from the where they landed on the couch. If she won’t come, I’ll save Jared my damned self.
I’m outside, at the candy-red Mustang when I hear her approach. Morgan gingerly plucks the keys from my fingers and gives my shoulder a bump with hers. “You talk, I’ll drive.”
“SO DORIAN REALLY thinks all your loved ones are being targeted?” Morgan speeds down Powers Blvd. towards the Colorado Springs airport, like the car is on fire. Luckily, we don’t hit a single red light. I don’t question the hows and whys. I just fixate on the road, praying that Morgan doesn’t get us killed. Well…get herself killed. I’d probably walk away without a scratch.
“Apparently so. But he obviously can’t save them all, you know. What about James and Tammy? Or Carmen and Miguel?”
At the mention of her Latin beau’s name, she swerves, narrowly missing a passerby. “Oh my God.”
“When was the last time you spoke to him?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice is far away, as if thinking about him propels her into another place and time. Where shit wasn’t so complicated, and there were no Warlocks or magic or Haitian Vodou priestesses haunting her dreams. Where we had loving parents and amazing friends, and our biggest worry was what outfit we’d wear to the club on Saturday night.
I wish I could take her back there. Hell, I wish I could go back there. But everything’s different now. We can’t feign ignorance or chalk it all up to immaturity. This is it for us. There’s no going back to the life we once had.
We pull up to the airport in record time, and Morgan slows to let me out in front of the departure gates. “You go. I’ll park and find you!” she yells as I jump out. I nod, grateful that the entire airport is only slightly larger than a shoebox. Finding Jared should be a piece of cake. Right?
Wrong.
I zip through hordes of travelers before I find a cluster of screens displaying the endless lists of outbound and inbound flights.
Ok…Departures. Got it.
Destination: Notre Dame? That’s not right.
I look up flights to Indianapolis, thinking that would be my safest bet.
“South Bend,” a voice whispers, slipping into my ears and echoing inside my head. I whip around, looking for the source, but no one is there. It’s as if I didn’t even hear it all, that I just imagined the familiar voice. At least, that’s what I want to believe.
“Get out of my fucking head,” I mumble, turning my attention back to the screens. I find a flight to South Bend, IN scheduled to leave in the next thirty minutes. Shit! How am I supposed to catch him before then? I look towards the line of disgruntled people waiting to go through security and shake my head. There’s no way I’ll make it in time, but I’ll hate myself if I don’t at least try.
Luckily, the ticketing counter is shorter than I expected, and I reach an attendant within minutes.
“Ma’am, I need the cheapest flight you have. And I don’t care where it’s going.”
The blonde behind the counter tips her head to one side, as if she didn’t hear me correctly. “You don’t care where it’s going?”
I shake my head. “Just whatever you have. And hurry please.”
She smiles, looking down at her screen as she taps on the keys. “Going to stop the one that got away from getting away, I presume.”
“Something like that.”
She hits a key, causing a printer to spit out a strip of paper. Then she hands me a boarding pass. “In that case, it’s on me,” she grins, her eyes warming until they look almost…golden. It’s only for a second, but I swear I see the bright flash of light in her those shimmering irises. She’s Light. Oh my God. There’s so much I want to know, so much I want to ask her. But if I don’t run now, I won’t catch Jared.
“This should get you through security faster as well,” she says pointing at an emblem on the boarding pass. “Life is too hard to spend it without the people you love. Don’t let him get away.”
I swallow the sudden burst of emotion in my throat and nod. “Thank you,” I reply in a raspy whisper.
The attendant smiles and nods once. Her nametag says “Analiese.” I commit it to memory, mentally promising that I’ll come back and find her. Maybe that’s insane of me considering that a Light Enchanter was responsible for capturing and nearly killing me, but I don’t feel anything but goodness in Analiese’s eyes. That has to count for something.
I whiz through security just like she said, not even having to stop to take off my shoes. Then I book it to Jared’s gate, hoping, praying that he hasn’t already boarded.
When I see a flash of chestnut hair and a set of broad shoulders stretched under a fitted polo shirt, I slow to a crawl. Jared. The beautiful boy I watched grow into a gorgeous man. The guy that was good for me—right for me. I always imagined that if Chris had had his way, he would’ve chosen Jared for me. A part of me thinks my parents always encouraged a potential relationship. They never bickered about me staying out late with him. They constantly asked about him. And whenever there were family functions, Chris and Donna always made sure that Jared was in attendance.
In a different place and time, Jared would have been my soul mate. Maybe he is even now. But looking at him—so carefree and excited to embark on his new journey—I see why Dorian did what he did. How could I ever think Jared would be happy with me, complacent in a life that wasn’t designed for him? Cursed to live among monsters and murderers? He’s too good for me—he always has been. And as much as I want to be selfish and keep him for the rest of his days, I can’t. I can’t take away his life like that. I love him too much.
“Jared?”
He turns around, light russet hair falling into his eyes. He brushes it away and gives me a friendly smile. “Yes?”
“It’s me. Gabs.”
A small frown pinches his forehead and he rubs the back of his neck. It’s a nervous gesture. Of course, I know his body language like my own. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
That bloody knot hits my throat with a vengeance, generating a gasp to slip between trembling lips. I can’t help the tears that automatically rim my eyes. Shit. I cannot cry right now. Why does it feel like I’m always fucking crying lately?
“You do. You did.” I swallow, praying for strength to make it through my next words. “You’re my best friend. And you used to be…”
God. I can’t do this. I’m just torturing myself. Jared doesn’t know me anymore. I’m just some crazy, braless girl in ripped jeans accosting him in the airport. And even with every reason to walk away and escape the awkwardness, he’s still smiling down at me, giving me his attention. Because he is just that damn good.
“Yes?” I can see the confusion on his face as he tries to look for signs of recognition.
“You used to be more. We used to be…together.”
He laughs, not to be condescending, but more to break the ice. “I don’t think so. I’d definitely remember a pretty girl like you.”
“Final boarding for all passengers on flight 2306 to South Bend, Indianapolis. Please make your way to gate B3 immediately,” says a crackly voice over the airport’s intercom. Jared looks toward his gate before shrugging.
“Well, I better get going before the plane takes off without me. It was good meeting you…Gabs, right?” He extends his hand, and it takes everything within me not to grab it and drag him out of this airport, kicking and screaming.
“Yeah. Gabs. Good luck, Jared. You’ll do great at Notre Dame. I know you will.” The second I put my hand in his, a surge of energy passes through my body and transfers to his. Like a little jolt of electricity. He pulls back with a wince and stuffs his hand in his pocket.
“How did you know…? Sorry, never mind,” he mumbles, a soft blush warming his face. “See ya around, Gabs.”
I watch my best friend—my rock—turn around and walk into his future. One that is painted with hopes and dreams. With love and happiness. A future without me. When he reaches the flight attendant and hands her his boarding pass, I force myself to walk away, tears streaming down my cheeks. I’m letting him go for good. I’m setting him free.
I make it a few yards before I see Dorian, standing against a wall, so still and expressionless that human eyes would have mistaken him for a marble statue. When my gaze meets his, he grimaces, feeling the full-brunt of my pain. He holds his hand out, offering me solace and comfort, and as much as I want to take it—as much as I want to fall into his arms and cry—I shake my head and keep walking.
He can’t fix this. He caused this. We all did. Maybe me more than anyone else.