Nightshade Academy Episode 4: Den of Demons Page 6

  Sparkling water droplets fall onto Kian’s cheeks. They came from me. I have the urge to wipe them away, but Kian does it first.

  I sniffle, embarrassed. I’d suck those tears back in if it were physically possible. “I never used to cry this much. It’s stupid.”

  “It’s not.”

  I’m tired of craning my neck and back to look at him, so I give in. I take in a not-so-subtle whiff of his honey-sweet, chai-spices, mint-leaf scent. Then I manage to slide down enough to rest my ear on his chest. Even through layers of warm clothes, his heartbeat plays its rhythm loud and clear. Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.

  A stutter.

  “How’s your finger?” I ask.

  “So cold it’s numb, and that probably isn’t a good sign, but it doesn’t hurt, so that part’s nice.”

  “Are you ever serious?”

  “I’m always serious.”

  I wonder if I’m crushing his lungs, if I’m too heavy. If I am, he doesn’t say anything. I should get up. I put a hand down on the ice, carefully put my weight down on it, just a little, and it slides, wrenching my shoulder.

  “Damn it,” I say. “What is with this ice?”

  “Maybe the ice fires cast a spell on it,” Kian says.

  “Have you been feeling sick?”

  “That’s random.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Kind of dizzy sometimes, or lightheaded. Why?”

  “Your Color. I keep fucking it up somehow.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s brown right now.” I try to find a way to lift myself up without burying my elbows into Kian’s chest. It makes for an uncomfortable spinal flexion as I tear off a glove. “You can’t see it, but my Color is brown too. They’ve been mixed together.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “Not at all. Until Eduardo, I’d never seen anything like it. Then you happened.”

  “What’d I do?”

  “You saved me from hunters, and all I could think about was drinking your blood, so you let me. I drank your Color, too.”

  Kian’s red eyes blink in and out with his fluttering eyelids. “That sounds bad.”

  “It kind of looks like Archer’s Color, so yeah. I’d say it’s bad. Archer won’t talk, but it’s possible someone like me came along and drank her Color. It could be something else, but I’m not sure. Colors disappear when someone dies. With how thin Archer’s is, I’m surprised she’s alive. Unless Colors and death aren’t as intricately interwoven as I think. Then there’s Ginzo’s blood. Sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?”

  “Sometimes it seems to sort of patch up Archer’s Color. Other times it does nothing but satisfy hunger, like everyone else’s blood.”

  “We need to get Archer to talk to us.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, “but good luck making her do anything.”

  “It might not matter. We might be stuck here forever.” Kian plants his hands on the ice, or tries to. When he tries to sit up, he slides and wrenches his shoulders too.

  “I’ll roll off,” I say.

  He wraps his arm around me again. “No. You’ll spin out in the opposite direction. Better to stay together.” He tilts his nose up toward the ice fires. “Hey, are you going to float around our heads all day or will you help us out of this mess?”

  They oscillate with their low tone, but they don’t alter their course.

  “So much for that,” Kian says.

  “We can’t stay like this,” I say. “We have to try something.” I fidget, experimenting with placing my hands on the ice again, but it’s not promising. If I rolled off him, I’d probably propel us in opposite directions. Then what? It’s better than being stationary, though.

  I shift and prepare myself for momentum, but Kian suddenly grabs my arm, hard.

  “What?” I blink.

  He swallows. “N-nothing.”

  “Did I dig my elbow into a lung or something?”

  “Worse.”

  “What?”

  Kian clears his throat. “Never mind. Maybe you should get rolling. At least we’ll have a chance of getting somewhere, since these ice fires aren’t going to help.”

  My thoughts exactly. But wait. I might be able to do something about his Color before that.

  I don’t think brown is life-threatening, since Kian’s Color opacity hasn’t changed, but it isn’t right either.

  “I will, but first I’m going to kiss you.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “Uh, what?” Kian’s tone is flat.

  “Your Color went crazy after we landed, when my teeth almost hit yours. I think it’s the easiest way to give you your Color back. It’s like that one time in the forest after we went fishing. I kissed your jaw and gave your Color back.”

  “How many times have you messed with my Color?”

  “Too many.”

  “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” He frowns. “Minus the jaw thing in the forest.”

  “No. Why does that matter?”

  “It doesn’t, I guess. This is just about fixing my Color, right?”

  “Right. Why? Will this be your first kiss? Are you nervous, Kian?”

  “No, I’ve kissed someone before.”

  I’m shocked. “Someone. You’ve only kissed one someone?!”

  “Don’t act so surprised.”

  “But you’re Kian, and you’re not dating anyone. All the girls at Nightshade love you. Most of them anyway. I’ve heard them talk. Some of the boys, too.”

  “I’ve never been interested, except for in that one someone.”

  “It sounds like we have more in common than I thought,” I say quietly. “I thought everyone our age is supposed to be sex-crazed.”

  “Maybe it’s more common than not, but everyone’s different.”

  “Who did you kiss?”

  “Why are we still talking about this? Do you care?”

  Do I? I don’t know. I think I do. If Kian likes someone like that, then I’m not going to be able to keep him. Am I? Maybe as a friend. Kian and I are friends, right?

  “I’m kissing you now,” I say.

  I plant my lips on his, trying to reenact what happened when I knocked him down—minus the force. Our lips touched for a few seconds, nothing more. That’s all it takes. But I linger. I close my eyes, adjust, and dip my tongue between his lips. He tastes different here. It’s not his blood. It’s sweeter, that honey taste at the forefront of it all. Exchanging saliva never interested me before—it kind of grossed me out—but it’s not so bad with Kian. I think I kind of like it.

  I pull away and scan his face for any traces of brown. It’s gone. His chartreuse isn’t too yellow anymore either. His Color is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

  “What do you know?” I say. “I think I’m finally learning something. It worked. Feel any different?”

  “Terrible.”

  “Really?”

  “No. The opposite of that.”

  Kian touches my cheek. His finger is still frozen. I don’t know why he’s touching me with this hand, why his fingers skim down to my lips. It kind of scares me. Not just the touch, the way his eyes become redder, bloodier. I jerk back and almost roll away from him right then and there. I can’t escape, though. His arm is holding me in place, like a snake coiled around its prey. He isn’t going to let go.

  “Sorry,” he says, hand stalled in midair.

  “That kiss was to fix your Color,” I remind. My heart is beating fast enough to drill its way out of my chest.

  “I know. It just didn’t feel like it.”

  “Did you want it to be more?”

  “Does answering that question change things between us?”

  I hesitate. “No.”

  “Just forget it. It’s not important.”

  “I liked the kiss,” I blurt. “Even if it was just to fix your Color.” And I realize I mean it. Especially if Kian liked it. I’d kiss him again.

  Kian shakes his head, but he smiles. “Really? Kiss
me again, then.”

  “I’ll steal your Color.”

  “I don’t think you will. You’re learning, remember?”

  My heartbeat ramps up even more. I don’t know if I’m scared, if I’m anticipating his lips on mine again, if my brain is fried—I don’t know anything. But I kiss him again. This time Kian’s tongue darts between my lips. His hand claws into my back, fingers highlighting ultra-sensitive points on my skin even though there are several layers between us. My jaw softens, my teeth part, and Kian’s tongue meets mine. I didn’t think he could taste any more honey-like, but I was wrong. It’s spicy, biting, a lot like his blood after all, but different. He’s not hurting underneath my fangs, the points buried into his skin.

  Who would have thought a kiss could feel as safe as a hug?

  Kian breaks off the kiss this time. He puffs out a couple breaths of air. They’re hot, overheated, miniature clouds. “Okay,” he breathes. “We’re never doing that again—especially with you on top of me.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Nova, you keep telling me things like you aren’t attracted to me and that you’re not my girlfriend, so I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But I’m definitely attracted to you. Don’t kiss me like that again.”

  My heart sinks. Down and down it goes into depths beyond my physical body. I fucked everything up, didn’t I? No way will I get to keep Kian now. Forget attraction, romance, I’m just socially inept. I’m broken all over. Of course Kian wouldn’t understand. No one does. I’ll never have Kian close to me the way I crave, because I don’t even know.

  “It’s not fair,” I growl, fighting back tears. “I like you more than a friend, but I don’t know how to describe it. I want to hold your hand. I want to hug you. I’d even like to kiss you. But it’s not enough, is it?”

  Kian’s quiet for a moment. “Relationships are messy. Every kind. They’re all give and take. Only the people involved can really define their relationship. It’s not like all romantic relationships have to contain X, and all friendships have to contain Y.”

  “But you told me not to kiss you like that again,” I say.

  “Compromise. If I’m interested in sex and you’re completely not, then I can’t kiss you like that. I can’t handle it.”

  “Typical. Boys only think with their pants.”

  “Hey. Way to stereotype, Nova.” He’s smiling, the darker line of his chartreuse as clear as day, so I don’t think he’s too offended by what I said. He turns his face away from me, manages to grab at his coat near his chest and squeezes the fabric. “I’m not really thinking with my pants. It makes my chest ache, having you kiss me like that with no chance of it being more. You know, no chance of keeping you. Now I know how Oskar feels.”

  “Wait a minute,” I say. “Oskar’s the one you kissed, isn’t he?”

  “Ding, ding, ding. Give the girl a prize.”

  “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. No wonder Emery thought you were dating.” I pause. “You still like him, don’t you?”

  “Right again. I love the hell out of Oskar, but we’ll never be more than friends. We could have been, but I had this vision a couple times, of Oskar happier than I’ve ever seen him, and it’s not with me.”

  “Let me get this straight. Oskar likes you, and you like Oskar, but you let your vision decide how that should end?”

  “You didn’t see it, Nova. You don’t know. I don’t regret it, but I won’t lie. When I told him we couldn’t be anything more than friends, I thought I lost him forever, and I almost couldn’t take it. Thankfully, we’ve both gotten over it.”

  “I don’t know if Oskar has gotten over it.”

  Kian closes his eyes. “Poor choice of words. I’m glad he’d rather be my best friend than hold it against me, I guess. Didn’t I say relationships are messy?”

  “This goes beyond relationships. I thought it wasn’t about being clairvoyant. I thought you made your own decisions.”

  “I did. If Oskar gets a chance like that, to light up like in my vision, then I want him to have it.”

  “Maybe he could have had it with you, though. Just because you didn’t see it in a vision doesn’t mean it’s not possible. I can’t tell if you’re nicer than anyone else in the world or if you self-sabotage better.” My heart aches. Maybe I understand what Kian’s saying too. “I get why Oskar is so protective of you. He wants to keep you, even if it’s not as his boyfriend. I want to keep you, too.”

  “You won’t get off me, so I guess I’m stuck here. You win.”

  I win. Kian’s closed the door on Oskar, right or wrong, but not me.

  I win.

  “Do you think I could?” I whisper. “More than a friend, closer than Oskar. I think I’d try sex if it was with you. If it means something to you, if it somehow proves how I feel about you—”

  Kian puts his frozen finger to my lips. “Stop. I wasn’t giving you an ultimatum. You already proved you’d explode a demon for me. I’m not going anywhere, Nova. Not really.”

  Unless I want more and he can’t give me more because he also wants his own version of more. What a mess.

  “Then how do we,” I say, “the two people involved in this relationship, want to define it?”

  “As you’ve got my back and I’ve got yours. As I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. As we’re going to explore this more. As something more than friends, but maybe not sexy. It’s up for debate and subject to change. There’s one constant, though, one thing that won’t change: you’re part of my family, and I’ll always be there to protect my family.”

  I fight the urge, the tugging sensation at my lips, but I end up laughing anyway. “I’m sorry about what I said before, for stereotyping.” I’m pretty sure my heart’s grown a few sizes; it’s pressing against my chest, warm and full. I’ve never met anyone like Kian before, and it makes me think I’ve missed out on a lot.

  “And okay,” I say. “I want to explore this more. With you.”

  Kian grins. “For now, let’s get off this ice.”

  “Agreed.”

  I prepare myself, try to visualize where I’ll go, and roll off of Kian. I slide for what feels like minutes. I just keep going, but I still don’t make it to the edge of the rink, to anywhere craggy enough for me to get a decent grip.

  I place my hands down on the ice to push myself up, but they slip. Nothing’s changed. I use my core muscles to sit up instead, since I landed on my back. Kian didn’t get pushed far enough either. He’s still stuck on the smooth, glassy ice, too.

  “C’mon,” he complains, voice echoing through the cavern. He raises his hands to one of the ice fires that came here with us; I’ve lost track of the other. “We could really use your help.”

  The ice fire drifts down. It offers its fluttering tail, and Kian carefully grabs it. He doesn’t flinch and doesn’t pull back, so I have to assume it isn’t freezing him. Then it moves, pulling him along. The other ice fire reappears, circling above me.

  “I guess we’re doing this too?” I say.

  It lowers down, tail close enough for me to reach out and grab. I do. There’s this eerie sensation of water leaking through my glove, but it’s a phantom feeling. It starts dragging me toward Kian. He’s standing now, safe on ice that won’t force a face-plant.

  “Thanks,” Kian tells the ice fires when I’ve arrived and I’m standing on my own two feet beside him. “But you know this is the opposite of the direction we came from, right?”

  “Great,” I mutter. “Let’s hope this craggy part wraps around.”

  The ice fires sing the same low tone. It drops until the ground seems to shake with it. The ice wall in front of me and Kian comes down inch by inch, resonating with the ice fires’ tone. It’s thick, so thick we couldn’t have seen through it before. We don’t get a chance to think about it or the strange pentagonal room it reveals. The ice fires push us past the threshold, and the wall rises, sealing us inside.

  CHAPTER 11

  The ice fires squee
zed in before the wall closed all the way—thank God. It would have been pitch black in here otherwise. The two of them swirl around each other, tangle in each other’s long bodies, and attach themselves to the ceiling like a dangling light fixture.

  Several reflections of me and Kian stare back at us. The pentagonal shape of this room is so precise. Did someone make it like this or is it natural? Each wall is a faultless mirror. The room’s not huge, so it’s easy enough to walk the perimeter. The ground and ceiling are just as reflective, though, so it’s a bit of a mindfuck. At least it isn’t slippery on top of that.

  I touch one of the walls. My gloved fingers leave a smudge, but when I remove them, because the cold eats right through them and to my skin, the smudge disappears as if someone took a microfiber cloth to the surface and wiped it away.

  Kian hugs himself. “Don’t tell me this is the secret Helena’s been searching for.” He looks up at the ice fires. “I thought you weren’t going to show us.”

  “It isn’t us they’re worried about. It’s Helena,” I say.

  “So why show us and risk her finding out?”

  “I don’t know. There’s nothing here anyway. It’s a room with a bunch of mirrors. What would Helena do with that?”

  I squint at one of Kian’s reflections, doing my best to block out the rest. He looks so different like this, when his Color isn’t showing. I’d say I do too, but it’s not like I can see my face without a mirror anyway. I touch Kian’s reflection, resting my fingers on his cheek until he moves and alters the reflection so I can’t.

  “Maybe the ice fires are keeping us as their pets,” he says. “Maybe this is a cage.”

  “You really think that?”

  “Humans do that sort of thing all the time, so why not?”

  “I don’t think they’re the type.”

  “But you’ve seen how smart they are.”

  I shake my head. I’m about to turn away from this mirror, but something blurs Kian’s reflection. He’s standing opposite of me, inspecting his own mirror wall. A smudge? I try to rub it away, but nothing happens. I take a few steps to the side and the smudge moves. It’s about the perspective, then. It’s not a smudge.