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  “I knew it, you fucking bitch,” Louis rasps. He grabs my hands and pins them over my head with one of his. I kick out as hard as I can as he tries to remove my pants. One of my kicks lands squarely on his stomach and he is shaken enough to release my hands. There are no emotions in this moment and I think it is because I am numb. Like pain, this incident numbs me. Numbness does not appease me any longer.

  “Get the hell away from me!” I yell loudly into the dark room. I scream so loudly I am sure it penetrates the sky and reaches the Dark Citadel. I stand and grab a wooden chair. I slide it back and forth creating a slight barrier. When he makes a move toward me, I throw it in between us. His eyes are feral and angry, though I am surely angrier than he. Lunging forward, I kick the chair toward him, daring him to approach me. He dives at me and his solid fist connects with my face. A gruesome crunch echoes in the small space. Warm blood drips from my lip. Pain. My dark side is buried even deeper. I cannot reach it and I know this is probably the end, but I am okay with it because my eyes are blue. I understand.

  My head hits the floor with a loud crack and my eyelids close to stars. He is on top of me. I feel his heated breath on my collarbone and his muttered words are full of hate and wrath. I think of the stories from the old world that my mother told. I imagine the stars that cloud my senses were similar to fireworks. I feel him struggling with my tight pants and I smile, thankful for the seamstresses’ forethought. Dizzy sensations flood my mind as blackness takes over. I will the pain to take me under, to bury me completely.

  Suddenly, I hear a loud crash followed by the fiercest war cry I have ever heard. It is not until I will my eyes open that I know it is Finn. Or someone who looks very similar to Finn—I cannot distinguish his features as they twist in rage.

  He pulls the male darkling off me so quickly, I am unsure if he was ever on me to begin with. Finn hurls the man across the room like he is light as air. My head lolls to the side and I see the door has been busted open. Lana stands in the frame with her mouth agape. She stares wide-eyed and speechless as she takes in the scene. She loads an arrow and aims her bow into the hut, ready to kill. For me. My head is pounding but I force myself to sit up. My white, cotton underwear are still on, but my other clothing items are nowhere in sight. I bring my fingers up to my mouth and relish in the stinging pain when they brush the bleeding gash. Finn does not glance my way as he drags the unconscious body of Louis out of the hut into the gray, hazy night. Lana follows Finn out. I hear one violent snap and know that Louis is no more. Removing the head is the only way to kill a darkling.

  I shut my eyes tightly and shriek.

  When I open them moments later, Finn is kneeling in front of me. His breathing is heavy—erratic. His breaths and my heart hammering in my ears are the only sounds I am aware of. Finn’s gaze is trained on my eyes as he unbuttons his shirt with blood soaked fingers. I want to tell him how angry I am that he left me. I want to tell him how fearful I am about everything when he is away. Instead I leap at him wrapping my arms around his neck so tightly I think I may harm him. I bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply, like I am breathing for the very first time. He shrugs out of his shirt and drapes it across my lower back. His hands are hesitant as he rubs my bare back in small, comforting circles. I never want to let go. I cannot let him go.

  “Do not ever leave me again,” I say without breaking our embrace. I feel his heart beating against my nude skin. We are connected. Through my tight grip he exhales deeply. He turns his head and presses a soft kiss against my temple.

  Finn never leaves me for more than six hours again.

  Chapter Twelve

  July 16th, Midday

  Six months later

  I almost feel. Every day, every hour, and every second I pretend less and feel more. Lana is correct in that acting lessons are good. Just not for the reasons she initially started them. I copy the darkling girls’ smiles and laughs. I imitate their gestures and pick up on jokes. I may not feel the other four yet, but I feel alive. Finn still has to leave every few weeks to stave off his ‘cravings’. Lana and Finn do not think I know when he leaves, but I do. Even if I could not see the crazed look in his eyes when it is almost time, I would know because Lana sits by the window all night long when he is gone. She is guarding, watching, making sure nothing happens to me. Bec usually spends the night in our house on the nights Finn leaves, too. I tell them stories of my childhood and try to recite the words from my fairy tale. The words are less familiar now and as unimportant as they once seemed, I know they are not. Those words are my mother. They are all I have left besides the snippets of memories and her last dying words.

  Finn is always back before I wake up.

  It is customary that male darklings stay in a house on the outside of the circle to protect the female darklings and because it is inappropriate for males to intermingle too much. Finn now stays in a house directly next to Lana’s and mine. Sometimes, at night after we part, I go to the window in our house and I watch him in his. Some nights he paces the small space for hours and other times he actually sleeps. Watching Finn is my favorite pastime. Lana gives me a hard time when she sees me staring, but I catch her standing over my shoulder every now and again to watch too. I wonder what Finn frets about, I wonder where his mind wanders. I know that with Louis’s death, repercussions stemmed. Neither Lana nor Finn will discuss it in front of me and when I bring up the subject they both grow angry.

  The witches have come to our circle twice. They search for me. They do not give up on me like the other darklings that escape their fate. They want me. Finn knows when they plan to visit, so we are ready when they do. Turning my blond hair black with ash will not work forever. My blue eyes have taken on a silver sheen and without a second look no one would doubt I am more human than witch. Bec and Lana say this is a promising sign, but I grow weary of waiting for emotions.

  “I am so fucking excited for the scavenger hunt tonight,” Lana chirps from behind me. I am staring out the window—my window–again. Finn is shirtless which just happens to be the state that I find him most appealing. I know he will need to leave again soon. He looks at me fiercer and his voice is more rigid. He restrains himself around me more. I have asked, but Lana refuses to tell me where he goes or who he goes to. It annoys me. He tells me we are friends like Lana and me, but I feel enough to know a blatant lie when I hear one. Finn stretches his strong, tanned arms over his head. I have to turn my head forcibly to respond to Lana.

  “I am excited, too. You better be on my team,” I say. Lana’s eyes light up.

  “Of course! I need your freakish good looks to shock our opponents. Plus, if you’re on my team that means we get to use Finn as an Ace card. It’s almost like cheating, really.” Lana throws her bow over her shoulder excitedly while shaking her head, her black bobbed hair bouncing as she moves. She is already planning her victory dance in her mind. I am sure of it. I laugh out loud. Lana peers at me over her shoulder, her white teeth blazing in a wide smile. She likes my laugh. I like her smile. We could trade them back and forth all day.

  “Bye,” I say, because I know the house cannot contain her energy any longer.

  “I have some planning to do for tonight. I’ll leave you to your,” Lana says rubbing her chin, and then finally decides on her word choice, “meat gazing.” She laughs noisily. The wooden door now reinforced with scraps of metal, slams behind her, effectively erasing her cackle from the air.

  The smile that Lana causes is still on my face when I glance back out the window and startle. Finn is watching me, his eyes hungry. He only looks at me like this. I let my smile drop, my lips part in shock. My eyesight is perfect. I can see every crease and angular slant of his face and body. His lips, the lips I dream about constantly, are parted. Like they always are, teasing me unmercifully without knowing it.

  I bring two fingers up to my own mouth and gently trace my own lips back and forth, imagining my fingers are his lips. The way he watches me causes warm tingles to rise up my spine
and spread through my body. The lower half of my body clenches with need. It is not a product of magic and I know that Finn is definitely not just my friend. His face becomes tortured, shadowed something fierce. He snaps his mouth closed, something he rarely does. His full lips press into a hard line and he disappears from his window. It angers me he ruins another of our secret moments. I know Finn is the key to unlocking the other four, but he refuses to admit it.

  I pick up my knife and decide to see if Lana has gotten far. My body hums with desire and I need a distraction, anything that will pull my focus from Finn’s lips and tightly coiled body. Anything. Pulling open the door with a creak, I find the reason I need distraction. He looms large, filling my door frame—owning all that surrounds him. Finn is breathless and he pants from running. The first thing I notice is that his shirt is still absent. I glance both ways to make sure the other darklings are not watching him enter my house half-dressed. They are jealous of his protective nature. This new scene would be an entirely different problem. Finn swallows hard.

  His jaw clenches. “Why did you do that?” he demands. I step back and let him brush past me into the room. The door shuts and I lean my back against it.

  “I did not do a thing. You were the one who ruined it,” I say calmly, feeling my heartbeat pick up just from listening to him say five words. My eyes dart to the band of his underwear peeking from beneath his low-slung jeans. When he notices my gaze he takes a step back, holding his palms out in front of him.

  “Emma, please. Don’t do this to me.” Finn is begging—he is breaking. This time he calls me my name instead of ‘darkling’. Never has he acted like this, seeming so out of control. For the first time, I realize I am the one who has it.

  “You do not want me to feel the other four. It is obvious,” I say. I cross my arms over my chest and turn my head away from him. I prop one foot back on the door.

  “How can you possibly say that? Of course I want you to feel them, but we are friends, Emma. I can’t be more than that to you. I can’t.” Finn’s voice shatters on the last word. Curiosity forces me to meet his gaze.

  “Whatever. Everyone gets a piece of the Finn pie except me.” I intone sarcasm perfectly. My time with Lana teaches me many things. Right now I am thankful for her wit. I arch an eyebrow to drive my point home. Finn stares at me unblinking, obviously shocked by my request.

  “So, that’s what you want then? You want a go at me? One time and then never again–that’s how it works, you know? Once I touch a darkling, I can’t touch her again. I might develop feelings for her and be tempted to do more. It’s a line I won’t cross. But if that’s what you want? Take it. Come on, Emma. God knows that’s what I want—all I can think about constantly. You drive me fucking crazy,” Finn says.

  I am not sure if I am offended by his words or if something else makes my heart leap and my stomach twist into knots. I want Finn. I know I want him badly. I also know only once will not be enough to sate me. He rakes a hand through his long brown hair and his eyelids fall to half-mast. Indecision lights his face for only a moment and then his breathing slows, his lips part further, and he comes toward me. He rests his hands on the door beside my head. I stand stock-still. His lips are so near mine that if I merely swallow, I think my mouth will brush his. The fear that flows through my veins is not the kind I am used to. It feels like something more. Like something is lighting me from the inside.

  He pins my gaze and holds it. As if I could look anywhere else if I wanted to. “Do you know what I think about when I’m with the other darklings?” he asks. I shake my head ever so slightly, so enrapt with the timbre of his voice. “This.” He trails a finger over my bottom lip. I sigh. Finn swallows loudly. “Your face.” He brings up a finger and lightly drags it across my cheekbone and down my neck. Tingles blaze across my skin. “Your body,” he whispers. Finn’s fingers brush across my collarbone, light as a feather, and then trail down my bare arm. “You are there. Not the insignificant bodies I have to use to fix myself.” His words resonate, stoking a growing fire inside a part of me only Finn can own. He wants me too. I tremble under his skilled hands.

  “I want you to always use me to fix yourself,” I whisper into the electrified atmosphere surrounding us. He shakes his head sadly and continues to caress my skin, relishing the contact just as much as I am. I watch as he closes his eyes and continues stroking my skin as if committing my every curve to memory to pull out another time. A slight sick feeling takes root in my stomach when I realize this is probably exactly what he is doing. His lazy brown eyes open and his gaze finds mine. Infinite sadness is what I find.

  Finn lowers his eyes to my neck. “It would get too complicated, Emma. I won’t be able to stop.” He watches his fingers move as he brings them back up to my lips. He licks his lips.

  “Can we not have this, then?” I ask as I close my eyes and surrender to the shock waves hitting my system. “I feel so much with this,” I say. I lay my hands on his chest and let them slide down slowly.

  He sucks in a sharp breath and holds it as my hands stop just below his navel.

  “I want to feel, Finn. I want to feel you,” I say. I see a flash of white light his eyes from behind, like a warning. Just as quickly, the warm silvery brown replaces the glow. I let out a held breath, but Finn does not seem to notice the slight hesitation.

  “Kiss me,” I order. “If I can have nothing else, at least let your lips be only mine.” I wrap my arms around his strong shoulders and press my body to his. He pulls away from me gently. Leaning down with a precise control, he kisses me on the corner of my mouth. I close my eyes at the brief exquisite contact, moaning softly. I feel more in this fleeting moment than anything that came before it. My heart thrums wildly and my stomach turns over. When I open my eyes, I find his perfect face.

  His brows knit in confusion. “Don’t you understand? You already have my entire heart.”

  You already have my entire heart. His admission blazes into my soul.

  He has said more words from my book. Words that are no longer hollow.

  Chapter Thirteen

  July 16th, Night

  Finn leaves before we even start our scavenger hunt. Lana is furious with his departure—her ‘ace card’ has vanished. I assure her we will be able to get the objects hidden in the forests without him, but true to form she continues to sulk, spewing empty threats to anyone who will listen.

  Before he left, Finn told me he would be as fast as possible and might make the tail end of our hunt. Telling Lana this would be a mistake, just in case he cannot make it—it will only disappoint her further, causing more hysterics. Honestly, my disappointment is heavy enough for both of us. I loathe that he is with another darkling. My stomach twists and knots as images of his mouth on another swirl through my thoughts. I feel murderous. I try to focus on the fact he will be laid back and completely carefree tomorrow. Our relationship is easier the days following his absence. After he is with another.

  “What’s our strategy?” Lana asks as she streaks some sort of black oil underneath her eyes. She turns to face me, abandoning her mirror, stone-faced and deadly serious. Her hair looks a little jagged and I know she probably took a knife to it. Again.

  “It is a game, Lana. Do we really need a strategy? We find the objects the other circle has hidden for us and try to avoid their traps. It will be fun.” I giggle when her expression does not change. I realize she is perfectly serious. Lana is a lot of things and a good loser is not one of them. “Did you cut your hair?” I ask to try to distract her.

  “No. Why do you ask that?” she says, arching an eyebrow. When her thin lips twitch, I let out a laugh.

  “Put some of that on my face, teammate,” I order, motioning to my face with my fingers.

  Lana tries to hide a grin as she approaches. Unlike the perfectly sculpted lines under her eyes, she smears it all over my face. It does not just look like oil; it is oil.

  “You are in so much trouble. This better wash off,” I say when she is
finished sullying my skin and laughing so heartily that she is unable to speak clearly. In her moment of breathless weakness, I wipe some of it from my face and lunge forward to smudge it across her forehead. I pick up my knife, slam it into my holster, and run out the door with Lana hot on my heels.

  “Now that we look like dirty children, the others might go lenient on us,” she says jogging past me. I beam at her with a huge smile. She rolls her eyes and stalks forward into the forest. I am not afraid of nothingness anymore. It represents the circle that has accepted me. It protects my circle. The savages that inhabit the forests are merely a nuisance. Lana says we are able to kill them without retribution from the dark witches only if they threaten us, as they are guardians. Weak guardians, I think. She kills them for looking at her a mile away, but I like that about Lana. I like everything about Lana. I know that nothingness is not empty. It is full of promise.

  “Wait up,” I shout as I enter the edge of the trees. Lana is looking at a piece of dark parchment paper trying to decide where we should go first. The darklings are paired up and their echoing laughter is infectious. Everyone waits for this event all year. When the others glimpse our greasy faces they laugh even louder.

  Studying the map with more intensity than is necessary, she finally speaks. “Two ball shaped baskets that hang from a branch…one hundred paces to the west,” she declares. Lana taps the side of her head, visibly amused by something. “Well if that’s not a euphemism then I don’t know what is,” she cackles. I roll my eyes.

  “They are baskets. You are going to make this impossible,” I tell her gruffly. I snatch the map from her hands and examine it carefully. “You sick witch.” I toss the words over my shoulder when she tries to come up to look at the map again.