DARK SOULS (Dark Souls Series) (3 page)

“What subway are we taking, anyway?”

“Oh, you know…” She was being evasive again. Evasive Macy never boded well for Crotchety Emily. “The F…”

“You’re taking me to friggin’ Brooklyn, aren’t you.” I didn’t even phrase it as a question, More like a grim realization.

“That’s where his house is! You remember Nick, don’t you? It’s at his brownstone. Fort Greene, I think.”

She lowered her umbrella just enough to begin descending down the subway stairs. I stared down in sorrow, knowing that there were only two ways this could end: death by high heels, or death by infectious disease acquired by not wearing high heels. I chose the former, using Macy as my cane as I descended.

“I will forever be baffled by your lack of experience in high heels,” Macy said once we reached the bottom. “Truly baffled.”

We caught the subway just in time, and after a twenty minute wait for a subway transfer that Macy conveniently neglected to tell me, the A train finally brought us to our destination. Macy had been chattering the entire time, her voice a welcome balm over my strange, confusing day. It was still raining when we walked (well, I toddled) aboveground, but Macy was undeterred as we walked towards South Portland Street.

Ten minutes later we arrived, and even though we were still half a block away, I could already hear the bass thumping in the direction of Nick’s brownstone.

“Looks like we made perfect timing,” Macy said as she smoothly ate up sidewalk, her heels clacking against the pavement. I was less classy, all arms and legs as my rapidly swelling feet pleaded with me to sit down.

Macy laughed and held out her hand to grab my forearm and guide me over the cracked pavement. With my heels an inch taller, a fact which I’m sure Macy deliberately orchestrated for my torture, we relaxed into comfortable companionship as we made our way to the source of the throbbing bass.

“Fingers crossed Mr. Dark and Mysterious is here,” she said as we opened the door into a crowded and cloudy din.

A wall of thick heat hit us as soon as we entered the house. People were splayed everywhere, most whom I recognized as Cream of the Cup
regulars, and others I didn’t, but all holding some form of liquid. We had to shoulder through a mass of gyrating people as we made our way through the main hallway and into the kitchen.

Sure enough, two kegs stood sentry on the floor beside a wide marble kitchen counter, leaving plenty of room for the various bottles of cheap liquor and mixers that were scattered across the countertop. Macy made a beeline for the keg on the left, grabbing two red Solo cups on the way. She looked over her shoulder at me and raised a brow in inquiry. I hesitated. Beer has never really agreed with me. But, I did need a security blanket and I wasn’t about to start in on the hard stuff, not with Nick in the vicinity.

“If you insist,” I replied with a smile as she handed me a full, frothy cup, the foam dripping down the edges and spilling slightly on the left sleeve of my cardigan.

“Sorry,” she said, “I still haven’t gotten the hang of pouring out of a keg.”

I shrugged, not planning to drink much of it anyway.  “As long as it’s not a ploy to get me to take off my sweater,” I said to her.

“Who, me?” Macy asked innocently before turning to the left and heading into the loudest room.

We ended up in what was probably the living room, because only a living room should have a glistening grand piano in the corner—either that or a ballroom. The room was massive, with an iPod dock blaring in the corner underneath a very fancy looking eighteenth century lamp. I noticed that people were either in the middle of the room dancing wildly, couches pushed haphazardly out of their way, or paired up and clustered around the sides of the room. My vision took a moment to adjust. It was cloudy; someone had actually brought a fog machine and had cranked it up to its highest level. Bright lights flashed against the walls, and I saw what looked like a small black disco ball resting inside an unlit fireplace, its neon lights streaming as it turned slowly. Combined with the foggy mist, the room took on an eerie glow, obscuring the faces and bodies that writhed amid a composition of neon light and shadow. As I took in the scene, I had the thought that it bizarrely resembled a college version of an Andy Warhol painting.

“You!”

Nick came barreling out of the crowd, his blue eyes already glazed over and his face flushed with sweat. “I recognize you! Everly!”

One side of my mouth quirked up. “Emily. But close.”

“Yes!” He gave me a hard pat on the shoulder, his own beer sloshing dangerously at his midsection. “Tequila Barbie!”

I shook my head, hoping I was conveying to him over the pounding music that no, there would be no Tequila Barbie appearance tonight. Definitely no Pirate Barbie, either. I gestured to my beer. “Just this.”

He scoffed. “Oh, whatever. Pound that down and then come find me. We’ll get you nice and sauced.” Another hard whack. “Hey, where’s the Mace-ster?”

Good question. I scanned around, but knew I had lost her as soon as Nick distracted me. Macy had a talent of disappearing if you didn’t always have her in your sights.

“Wait, what’s your major again?”

I looked back at Nick. “Oh, no. I don’t have a major. I don’t go to college.”

“No?” Pause. “Oh, I get it. You want to be an
actress.
”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but then thought: why bother? It was a common assumption with Macy’s college friends, especially when they found out I was a coffee barista by day and a waitress by night. They couldn’t fathom that I was happy doing just that. I didn’t want to be an actress, or a model, or a singer. I just wanted to escape.

So instead I just gave him a sheepish
you got me
look, before I politely began to turn my back on him.

“No, wait!” His meaty, sweaty hand grabbed my forearm, sending the beer I was holding all over my sweater.

“Sorry, sorry,” Nick said after I gasped. He held his hands up in surrender, his own beer tilting sideways. “Didn’t mean it.”

“It’s fine. Really.” I waved him off. “I’ll be fine.”

Sighing and knowing Macy would be delighted that she had inadvertently succeeded in her goal, I peeled off my soaked-through sweater and folded it onto my forearm.

Nick departed, leaving me blissfully alone. I scanned again for Macy and finally saw her through the mist, jerking her head from side to side. I crowd-danced over to her, my body surprisingly graceful as I dodged twisting, unpredictable limbs. That was odd. I wasn’t known to dodge anything that well.

“Yes! Found him!”

She didn’t have to tell me. I sensed him almost as soon as I was within ten feet of him, pins and needles rolling my body like a single, cresting wave before disappearing. My breath hitched as I locked my eyes on him.

He was in the far corner, and while shadowed by the neon mist, I knew it could only be him, sitting on the armrest of a loveseat that had been pushed against the wall. His eyelids were lowered, almost casually, as if from boredom. But I recognized him.

He was the guy who had stood in front of me, the one on the street only hours ago. I knew it. I just knew it.

His deep-set eyes were still lowered as I observed him, framed by thick eyelashes and dark brows that arced slightly above his eyes. He had been blessed with high cheekbones, the skin above them curving down sharply before connecting seamlessly with full, sculpted lips. My eyes roamed over him, unintentionally taking in every detail, from his perfect, straight nose to his distinct jawline, the full sight of him causing me to ogle him embarrassingly like I had just come across my boy band crush. But I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I already knew he had one sleeve of tattoos, but because he was only wearing a black T-shirt this time, I saw his other arm was covered as well. I stopped gaping only when my eyes lifted back up and reached the hollow at the center of his collarbone, and there my eyes rested.

Against my will, my eyelids lowered fractionally as I felt the tingling sensation rush through me again. I watched as the cleft of his collarbone, bare above his V-neck shirt, rose up and down, up and down, his pulse beating rhythmically above it.  My eyes latched onto his pulse and I stared, mesmerized, as it fluttered like a butterfly underneath his delicate skin.

His eyes snapped up.

I took a step back, surprised and mortified that I had gawked so openly. A pool of saliva had built up in my mouth and I took a loud swallow, embarrassed.

“Dude, I thought
I
was the boy-crazy one here,” Macy said beside me. “Look at you!”  

I fought against the eerie spell that had settled over my body.

“Yeah...I don’t know. I guess...” my voice trailed off. I couldn’t explain to her what just happened. I couldn’t even explain it to myself.

“Looks like I’ve finally succeeded!” She said before becoming contemplative. “Should’ve known you’d go for a sexy bad boy.” She stared at me with interest.  “Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you show interest in anyone.”

I flushed underneath her gaze.

“Which is why you must have him. Two years of celibate Ems is no fun for Macy, believe you me.”

She distracted me enough to tear my gaze away from him and look at her.

“When are you going to stop referring to yourself in the third person?”

“Easy. When you get laid and I don’t have to compare you to my very sexually active, very happy self.”

“Where’s the source of your very sexually active self, anyway? Let’s go find Rob.” I made moves to turn around, but Macy remained frozen in place.

Instead of following, she smiled and latched onto my arm, pulling me in the guy’s direction, and I balked. “Macy, no. It’s okay. My sweater’s…I need to go to the bathroom…”

She wasn’t lying when she said she had the strength of a linebacker. She wrestled me foreword and used my unsteady gait to her advantage as she practically propelled me into his arms.

“Hello!” She said as I tried to get my balance back.

He tilted his head slightly, one side of his mouth cocking up, but he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were specifically focused on Macy when he said, “Hello back.”

What the hell? What was I, canned dog food?

Predictably, Macy followed up with, “And you are?”

Her eyes were frozen on him. Then again, mine were frozen above his head. If he wasn’t going to look at me, I wasn’t going to look at him. I also didn’t want to look at him. I couldn’t get that
feeling
again. My body was already starting to revolt, my skin breaking out into a cold sweat.

“Asher. Asher Benedict.” He held out his hand, which Macy took, pumping it with exuberance when she replied, “Macy Forrester, pleasure to meet you.”

Asher
, my mind whispered.

Asher slowly, carefully slid his gaze over to me. It looked like it took him effort, but I didn’t begrudge him, because I had the exact same feeling of reluctance. I squirmed underneath his very direct, very pointed gaze before saying, “Oh, um. Emily. Chaucer. Emily Chaucer.”

Don’t look at his eyes. Don’t do it.

I did. Pure silver greeted me. The world tilted, and I stumbled again in my heels.

“Pull yourself together, woman,” Macy said under her breath.

The music and voices surrounding us were making it difficult to hold any conversation, so instead, Asher held out his hand to me. It hung in the air awkwardly as I stared at it, watching the tattoos on his forearm blur in and out of focus before becoming clear again. And again. My body began to hum with unseen electricity.

“Ems?”

Macy’s voice took on a warning tone. It was a tone that said,
Unless you want to spend the rest of the night in vampy red lipstick, you’d better look the hell up.
 

I met his eyes again, felt the rolling tingle again, but I kept myself in control when I raised my right hand to meet his. Almost instantly, a sharp heat boiled up inside me. My hand jerked to the right, smacking right into a person walking by beside me.

“Spastic, much?”

The girl I hit turned her head just enough to glare at me before she disappeared into the crowd.

“Crap, sorry,” I said, and whether it was to the girl or to Asher, I didn’t know.

He didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy looking at me strangely, almost quizzically, but as soon as I looked back at him his eyes darted away.

“You know what, Mace? This beer tastes kind of skunky,” I yelled over the music and into her ear. “I’m gonna go grab something else.”

I didn’t want to dwell upon my real reasons for leaving the room, but I needed to get away. The dizziness was back, the fear…

“What?” Macy gestured to her own cup. “It tastes fine!”

I braced myself for her not-so-subtle lecture about my need to be social around other humans, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Macy’s face changed and her eyes drifted away from me, taking on a determined look that I knew all too well.

“Actually, never mind. Go ahead! I’ll use this alone time to get to know
Asher.
” She said his name like it was an exotic fruit, her mouth savoring every syllable. Asher smiled warily in response.

“Okay, good. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Without waiting for a reply, I got out of that room as fast as my death-defying heels would carry me, trying not to draw attention to myself as I precariously waddled out. I pushed sweaty arms out of the way, my beer spilling over the edges of my cup and resulting in surprised gasps as the icy liquid landed on unsuspecting limbs.

As soon as I reached the kitchen, I let out a sigh of relief.
What was that?

I mean, I wasn’t the most social of people, for obvious reasons, but I’d never felt the urge to literally scramble out of a room just because a good-looking stranger happened to be standing in it.

No. No, I was not going to think that way. I am not my mother, and I am not going crazy. I repeated that sentence over and over again as I pretended to scan the different types of liquor on the countertop. I tried to reassure myself that just because I was having certain feelings, just because I was maybe becoming paranoid for no specific reason, did
not
mean that I belonged in a mental institution, lying in a bed next to my mother’s. Absolutely not. I took a deep breath, slowing the heavy breathing suddenly coming out of my mouth.