Six (22 page)

Lana shakes my arm. “Earth to Emma, Earth to Emma. Do you read me? She is a sorceress. It is her job to be fucking magnificent. Or didn’t you know? I guess you wouldn’t. I’m surprised Finn left her. The way she is all blond and Emma-like and all.” She grins and the smile turns into full-blown laughter when she notices Finn’s stony expression. “Argh! I’m a big, strong protector. And I like em’ blond,” Lana says, kissing her biceps. He grumbles under his breath.

Another blast of fiery heat sends us running out the door into the murky whistling street. Sweat breaks across my face and intermingles with the soot and the tiny pieces of glass that rain from above. The thick cloud of ash shields us from the winged savages above us and it seems, for the moment, we are safer outside in the street.

Finn leads, and Lana and I jog next to each other. I let her jagged breaths calm me, pressing myself to banish the dark place that wants me. The part that wants me to be empty and powerful…and lonely. I cannot forget her face. Aside from Lana cloaking herself as me, the sorceress is the only other being I have seen that looks similar to me—even more so than my own mother. It intrigues me. I shut my eyes and let her delicate face fill my mind. Although she has stolen something of great importance from Finn, I sense she will help us. Finn says she
wants
to find us.

Suddenly, Finn makes a sharp turn and heads down a set of steep stairs. We follow. The steps are made of rubble, and tiny pieces chip away as our feet pound them. I am unable to see where they lead, only that it is dark and the smoke tastes more bitter with each step I take. I hold Finn’s shirt as we continue down. Lana coughs loudly. My chest burns, my eyes water, and my foot slips on a cracked stair. I release Finn as I fall and deftly catch myself before I roll down into the darkness. “Ow,” I mutter, rubbing the palm of my hand.

“Easy, freakling.” I hear Lana whisper in the dark. Her voice carries oddly and I cannot tell how far away she is. Finn’s large hand clamps around my arm, then he pulls me up. I cover my mouth and nose with my hand.

“Where are we going? I can barely breathe,” I say, though I realize I barely hear myself speaking. A door opens. We all stumble through and Finn closes it behind us, trapping the tainted air in the stairwell. I fall to the ground and gasp for oxygen. While this is not clean air, and I do not really remember what clean air smells like, it feels like I am breathing for the first time.

“This better be fucking epic, Finn,” Lana barks from right behind me, violently sucking in air. I hear shuffling, zipping, a brief whine, and I finally see a light. Finn has lit a lantern with another of his contraptions. It glows dimly, lighting our surroundings. Finn is smiling when I notice him watching me. Rubbing my fingers over my palm, I realize I am bleeding from my stumble. I clench my fist, but not because I want the pain. I want the bleeding to cease. It is a small thing that I now know is huge. This blood signals a transition in my body, and glancing at my friends I know it is much bigger—it is my entire life. Finn saunters over and presses a cloth into my hand.

I study his fingers when he touches my arm to steady his wrap. “Best estimate we have six days right?” Finn asks as he opens both arms to his sides. When neither Lana nor I respond, he continues. “This.” He knocks on the counter the lantern rests on. “Is called a bar. Humans in the old world came here to have
fun. Fun even on the smallest scale is all we have in the abandoned city. How else do you expect us to feel anything but heat and hatred?” Finn’s smile is infectious. I look around and notice the dingy chairs and dusty bottles. This underground lair looks to be the furthest thing from fun. Finn goes around to the other side of the counter and starts blowing off large bottles of all shapes and sizes.

“You’re kidding right?” Lana huffs, obviously displeased. “I’ve heard about these places, how humans spent hour after hour wasting their time, drowning in spirits. Humans from the old world were epic time wasters.” She does not drop her bow. If anything she holds her weapon even tighter. “Savages are after us. The dark dickheads want Emma. We have to keep moving. You may be keen to die in this dirty hole in the ground, but I’m not. Neither is Emma. We want to go home. Let’s go home.”

She stands next to me and firmly plants her hands on her hips. I do not say otherwise, but I do want to have a little fun. At the mention of home, my stomach flips and my heart speeds. Fun filled memories of the circle are far from my mind. I miss the darklings, the lagoon. I miss Finn’s hut and my real window. Finn has obviously been to this place before, because by some miraculous feat he has turned on blaring music and located unscathed drinking glasses. He pours three drinks. The caramel colored liquid splashes as he pours. With his head still down he looks up at me through his lashes.

Lana narrows her eyes at him. “You’re just as bad as the humans. I’m lumping you with the Neanderthals, just so we’re clear,” she says.

“Unless you have a better idea…feeling 101,” he says. He slides a full glass down the long counter and I catch it before it hits the end. Lana straps her bow to her back, still not willing to set it down, and shakes her head with disapproval.

“Fine, give me one. Just one,” Lana barks. She presses her lips into a firm line. I see her cracking. She wants worry-free fun because she is
Lana
. One corner of her mouth picks up when Finn laughs. Her deep laughter fills the room a second after I tip my head back and swallow the burning liquid.

I scrunch my eyes closed when I feel it warming my chest and belly. Lana chuckles and slams her empty glass down. Finn’s follows. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes when I am sure I will not throw up. I wrap my arms around my middle. It tastes like poison.

Finn skirts around the counter and puts a large hand around my waist and draws me to him. With our faces only inches apart, one eyebrow rises fractionally, in question. There is never a question with him. I lean up brushing my lips against his with slow urgency. He parts his lips and I separate mine. His hand feels like fire against my lower back, so I pull him closer, as close as our bodies can be and it is still not enough. It will never be enough. He threads his free hand through the back of my hair. I bring both of my hands up to his neck touching his skin, committing it to memory. We are one. This kiss, unlike all the others sends spirals of emotion into my body. Finn pulls me away from his body with a groan, but I am so not ready to release him. He consumes me, causing the warmth inside my body and the invisible emotion I know is surfacing. Comparing this to the sensations of using my magic just an hour ago makes me understand something. There is no comparison. There never was. There never will be.

“Ack. Seriously. Get. A. Room. I’m not into voyeurism this week,” Lana cries, feigning annoyance. I hear her speak but I am so lost in Finn’s perfect eyes that I am unable to look away. Silver. Brown. Silver brown. My favorite color. Unwittingly, Finn looks over my head at Lana, then returns his gaze to mine. He bites his lip, as if considering something vitally important, then shakes his head. Lana begins fiddling with the music and turns on something with a hoppy beat. I hear her feet scuffling on the floor and know she is dancing. I smile.

He brushes my bottom lip with his thumb. It is a promise…a rain check Lana would call it. “It’s story time,” Finn whispers before he brushes a soft kiss to my forehead. I know that stories from my past help bring new emotions, but when he says this I cannot help but think of my storybook filled with silly notions.

The prince wakes the sleeping princess in the crystalline castle.

He has not yet. But I know he will.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

July 27th, Night

Lana is sitting the wrong way in a chair leaning over the back. Her arms hang limply. The alcohol is crippling her system. It is affecting us both. Finn stopped after one drink telling us he wants to be lucid. At this, Lana and I laugh so hard we nearly pass out. We are talking to avoid the horrible truth—every second that passes we are closer to a fight…or something horrible. Or, simply maybe it is just the end.

The smile fades from my face. “Tell me the story about firesparks,” Lana slurs. She loves this story.

“They are called fire
works.
They light the sky with amazing bursts of colors. They seem almost electric, and the sparks are so enormous they fill the entire sky. Special occasions call for fireworks,” I say as I raise my hands over my head to explain better. I tell the story like I am the one who saw them, instead of my mother. “You lie back on green grass and watch them explode above you. It is magical…” I lose my train of thought because of the dizzy sensations from the drinks and because of the way Finn watches me.

He stands behind the bar with his chin propped in his hands, staring at me as I explain. He smiles when I catch him.

“Do you have a question about
firesparks
?” I ask.

He shakes his head without removing it from his hands. “Don’t stop talking on my account. Keep going,” Finn says.

“I have been doing all the talking. You have heard all my stories a thousand times,” I say. I pick up a glass and the bottle that sits next to Finn, and pour myself another drink. They will listen to my stories for obscenely long periods of time. Growing up in the circles they were told some things about the old world, but never as detailed as the stories my mother told me. Some of the things are hard for me to believe because I did not see them for myself. Saying them out loud helps with that. I like reliving her memories. I just hope I do them justice.

Finn and Lana do not speak of too many things of their life growing up. It is a touchy subject for both of them. I know that Finn’s mother was killed when she stood up to the dark witches. As a tiny child, he stumbled into their circle by chance. There, they protected him until he was old enough to accept the decree to abstain from sex. Lana was born in the circle. Her human mother left when she was small. She still believes she is alive and out there somewhere. I do not think she is, though. The witches hunt humans. They want to eradicate them from our planet because of their emotional risk. Deep down I think the witches
like
that humans and darklings feel. It is why they gravitate to them and form relationships with
feeling
beings to begin with. It is why they allow the circles to exist. I also think this is Liam’s fascination with me. They are curious as to what is so spectacular that many willingly sacrifice their lives for. They do not have the capability to understand the importance or significance. How could they when I did not understand until recently?

Finn eyes me down. “You realize we’ll have to leave here tonight to find somewhere else to stay. I’m surprised we haven’t had to fight off any savages by now.” He slides the bottle out of my reach. “This won’t help you if we have to fight.”

I feel proud he says I will fight alongside him and Lana. For the first time I feel worthy of joining
their
team. I notice Lana’s bow now rests next to her chair, completely haphazardly. The liquid is poison, I realize.

“I have an idea,” she says while tipping back on two legs of the chair, balancing precariously. “Let’s play truth or dare.” She lets the chair fall forward with a loud bang. She looks at Finn and me in question. I have played this game only once beside the campfire at our circle. That time Finn was gone. Which was a good thing as most of the darklings asked questions regarding him. It is a memory before I feel happiness. It is
before
. My cheeks heat when I think of the questions the darkling girls ask each other during the game. Of course, Lana is the worst offender with her no-holds-barred questions. They are always embarrassing. Like her shooting, her questions show little to no mercy. I wince at the memory.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s only three of us,” Finn says. He must also know of her tactics.

Lana smiles. “Oh, come on you pussy. It’s a game. It’s not like we’re killing savages or anything life or death. What’s questions and dares between friends?” Lana fires back. Finn deftly rolls a bottle top around in his fingers as he considers the travesty this will turn into if he agrees.

“Yes,” I say. I back away from the bar. There are so many things I want to know. “I’ll go first.” I press my lips together. Lana claps her hands together once in celebration then rubs her hands together conspiringly. Finn’s eyes widen in shock. He shakes his head subtly and flips his hair out of his eyes.

“Fine,” he says. “One truth or dare each and then we move outta’ here.” He comes to stand next to me. He places his hand on my lower back. He lifts the bottom of my shirt up enough to touch my skin lightly. His finger tracing small circles distracts me from everything Lana says. To Lana it looks as if Finn is standing next to me with his hand placed on my back. Something completely innocent, except it feels like anything but. Heat envelops my body and a small sigh passes through my lips.

I feel my face flush. “Truth,” I mutter, when I realize Lana asks which doom I prefer.

“I get to pick the question,” Finn interrupts Lana’s squealing. I swallow audibly and look up to him. He is smug, his face glowing with a perfect smile. I pull out of his grasp and put my hands on my hips.

“Ask anything,” I say.

“You have to answer completely honestly,” Lana barks. To Finn she says, “Make it good. I mean real good.”