Authors: Rachel Robinson
Tags: #red heart pendant, #romance, #sadness, #anger, #apocalypse, #Six, #Rachel Robinson, #Love, #immortal, #joy, #Eternal Press, #glowing eyes, #spells, #emotions, #9781629290676, #magical casts, #magic, #surprise, #Finn, #blue eyes, #darkling, #Fear, #Dystopian, #feelings, #Emmalina Weaver, #Emma, #paranormal, #end of world, #6, #the six, #witches
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. A
fter 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.
“It’s not my fault the innuendo is so glaring. I didn’t make the maps.” She puts her hands on her hips and finally explains. “Each pair of darklings have a map directing them toward ten objects. There are enough objects for all the teams to find one of each. The first one back here with all of their objects wins. We have to work down our list and stay in order. We can’t take an object that is meant for another team even if it’s right under our nose,” Lana huffs, perturbed she cannot cheat. “We have to find the objects that our maps guide us to.”
“Good, someone should keep you honest,” I tease. She grabs the map back from me, folds it up, and shoves it in her back pocket. She eyes me warily as if she suspects something, but does not bring it up. She presses her lips into a firm curved line.
“Let’s go find some fucking dangly balls, shall we?”
After multiple hours of walking and getting sprayed by a disgusting smelling powder I have had enough
fun
. My hair nearly caught fire, Lana’s clothes are in shreds, and I only wear one boot. The laughter died the same time Lana almost fell out of a tree.
“We only need to find one last thing,” Lana breathes out in exasperation. She eyes the map closely, holding it up to let more of the gray haze light the page. Morning is almost upon us. “Go dig at the base of that tree, Emma.” I look at her defiantly although I know it is my turn. She recovered the black, stone-like object before this one. “It says you are the one that has to dig.” She slams her finger at the last line of text and shoves it in my face. None of the other objects specified who had to perform the task.
“Why me?” I ask.
“I don’t even care. Do it with your teeth if you have to. I’m so tired I just want to go back and sleep for days.” She sits down with a loud thud, then lies back, legs splayed open, and closes her eyes. I glance around us as a precaution, as I would never rest here. We are deep in the forests. I walk unevenly over to the tree Lana indicated and start digging with my fingers. The black ash coats my hands and I feel grit building beneath my nails. After a few minutes without success I stop. I sit next to my small hole and just breathe.
“How bad did you want to win this?” I shout so she hears me. A loud snap pierces the silence. The noise comes from above my head and I immediately back away from the tree. A net containing a savage hits the ground and opens in front of me like a present of the worst kind. My bare foot almost forces a trip as I back away, reaching for my knife as I go. The savage’s vacant stare moves over to Lana.
“Over here,” I snarl. I do not like that it looks at her. I free my knife and hold it in front of me. Fear coils in my stomach as it continues leering at her motionless form.
The creature moves around me and starts in Lana’s direction. I quickly glance back and realize she is still on the ground, eyes closed—unmoving. Magic is at work, and it is not mine. My dark side is buried deep, but I can still sense a spell zinging through the air with malevolent intent. Lana looks to be in a peaceful slumber. Panic rises when she still does not move as the savage gets closer. This is a trick of the cruelest kind and I cannot fathom why I am to be tested in such a manner. I see the pale, sickly skin of the savage and do not think about anything else except killing. I leap through the air and attack it from behind. My skin burns where it touches wet, slimy skin. I bury my knife deep into the back. As I pull my blade out, thick congealed blood splatters my face and covers my clothing. With a low growl, the savage’s knees hit the ground, and then it falls forward, mere inches from Lana’s body.
“Wake up, Lana!” I scream. She stirs briefly. Sinking my fingers into the flesh, I grab the savage by the head and begin sawing at the neck, cursing my dull knife as I go. Blood spurts onto Lana’s clothing when I finally free the head from the body. Glancing away from the twitching, dying limbs, I see her eyes flutter open. The spell vanishes with the savage’s death. Lana sits up wide eyed as she looks at me and then at the savage.
“What the fuck just happened?” Lana asks, rubbing her eyes with her fists.
I wipe a sleeve across my face and it comes away soaked with savage blood. “I just saved your fucking life,” I say, letting an ironic smile inch across my face. She laughs loudly, holding nothing back. “And I think someone hates me…or you…or both of us,” I say when I realize this is a trap set specifically for us. Lana shakes her head to clear her thoughts and I set back to digging in my original hole. I do not want the person who set this trap to win. I will get what it is that they did not think I would obtain. It is important now more than ever. I want to win just as much as Lana.