Six (7 page)

Understanding these emotions will be as difficult as feeling them,
I think.

“Let’s head to the other circle,” Finn says while picking up both backpacks. I follow behind him, not giving away the swirling feelings that threaten to blossom in my chest. Because he said it is not him. I grip my knife tightly and hope I am wrong—because I think it is Finn.

Chapter Nine

January 12th, Night

The landscape is barren of trees. We are far from nothingness and I realize it makes me uneasy. We are also far from the other circle…Finn’s circle. The desert landscape causes my skin to dry and my eyes to burn. Even without the sun’s touch, this circle is withering. I fear the savages less than I fear Finn leaving me with these new darklings. They look at me oddly, which I am now used to, but they look at the way Finn stands protectively in front of me with even more curiosity. They do not like that he has chosen to protect me and I dread when he leaves me alone with them. They will try to rip me limb from limb because I am different.

“Are you sure I am safe here?” I ask quietly. Finn has worry etched on his face as he gazes at me, but it transforms into something powerful when he looks out at the faces. He emanates control and his voice is unwavering as he speaks to the throng of darklings.

“This darkling will be staying here for a short time. She is to be protected from everyone and everything at all costs. Is that understood? If a hair on her head is so much as touched you will have to answer to me.” Finn affects these darklings just as he affects Bec and Lana. They all nod understanding without pausing. I am relieved he says I will only be here for a short time. He promises that Lana is on her way and he will not leave until she arrives.

On the outskirts of the group I see another male darkling. He seems older, his skin weathered by this brutal atmosphere. All darklings mature and stop aging in their early twenties, so this desert circle does affect them differently than those living in other places. The way the male leers at me sends shivers up my spine. Finn notices him watching me and his face darkens.

“Come on, then?” he whispers. Finn takes a step back, careful not to touch my skin, and starts for a hut that is in desperate need of repair. When we enter it occurs to me it is a store of sorts. Knives line the walls, and a bow and arrow not nearly as nice as Lana’s dangles off a rusty nail in the wall.

“What are those?” I point in the direction of black foreign looking objects. Finn peers down at me, amused by my question.

“Those are guns from the old world. I’m sure they don’t work anymore, but you’d be surprised how much death and destruction one of those could cause.” It looks innate and harmless. A spell could cause more damage than the object, I am sure of it.

Finn strides up to the makeshift counter and pounds his fist down on it a few times. In response, a gaggle of darkling women come to stand on the other side of the counter. I do not see their faces as Finn stands in front of me, but I know they react to him in the same manner all women do.

“Mr. White. What can we help you with today?” one asks, her voice shaking.

“How are the cotton fields doing? Is Trudy sewing garments this week?” I chance a glance at them. They gasp when they see my blue eyes. I close them tightly.

“What is that?” Another darkling asks Finn. I grab a handful of the back of his shirt as the fear wells in my chest. He steps away to break my grasp.

“No one of consequence. She is from my circle and she will be staying here for a time while I tend to business. Your desert circle has far more protection than I can offer at the moment.”

“I am Emma,” I tell them. I make sure to smile and tilt my head. Finn rolls up the sleeves of his shirt distractedly.

“We need some clothing if you have any to sell,” Finn says to break the silence that stretches on. The women stare at me with their mouths open. “I need a shirt or two and the darkling needs a change of outfit as well.” I notice my clothing is indeed in need of washing and major repairing.

The other male darkling enters and looks at Finn and me. He squints his eyes as if suspecting something, but does not say a word.

“Louis,” Finn says as he eyes the man warily. With Finn distracted, the darklings come around the counter to look at me more closely. Their silver eyes are bright and their jet-black hair forces me to cringe when they touch my golden locks. Our differences, like always, are great.

“Finnegan. Playing with fire, are you?” the man says. I glance at him curiously and watch as Finn’s back visibly tenses. I shuffle to his side, desperate to glimpse Finn’s face.

“Protecting the people from my circle. You should know me better by now, I never get burned.” Finn sneers, an easy smile spreading across his face. Louis answers with a forced smile. It crinkles around his eyes. I sense Louis is dangerous.

“What exactly are you protecting this one from?” Louis asks. His boots are heavy on the weak planked floor, his gaze predatory. I let the darkling women lead me to the back of the store because I do not like the way the man looks at me. I sense anger in him and my anger flares in response. I walk backward because I refuse to turn my back on the man.

“Don’t even think about it Louis. She is off limits,” Finn says.

Louis laughs bitterly. “Off limits how? We both know how far we can safely go with a female. I want a shot. It’s only fair to share. You owe me anyway,” Louis says before Finn interrupts by holding one finger in the air. Finn looks back at the female darklings, avoiding my gaze completely, and the women have immediate understanding. They whisk me into a back room and close the door. They begin measuring my body with strips of cloth. I lift my arms over my head so they can remove my rancid shirt. I hear scuffling on the floor outside of the room—one loud thud and then unending silence.

“I’ll wait for you outside, darkling,” Finn roars through the door, his breathing labored.

“What are you to Mr. White?” one female asks while dressing me in a new long sleeved shirt.

“He is my protector,” I say, confused why they would ask such a question with an obvious answer. The girls giggle. They pull on a pair of black woven pants that are tight around my body and hug my slight curves.

“Ah, I understand,” she says winking at me. Smiling because it is what I do when I do not know what to do, I catalog the wink to use in the future.

“He does not love me, cannot love me,” I tell them. They look at each other and back to me.

“She’s unfeeling,” one says. I step back as my irritation grows. I have said something that gives it away. I want to know what it is.

“I feel.” I lie. I know anger and fear are not really feeling. I know this because of what I
almost
feel when I hear Finn’s laugh.

“How many of the six do you have, darkling?” Eyes wide, they wait for me to respond without breathing.

I let out a long breath in exasperation.
Six
. There are six emotions. I stay silent. I put on my new socks, lace up my boots, and accept Finn’s shirt that one holds out to me. I walk out of the room and find him waiting for me, pacing. There is a spot of blood on the floor. His eyes widen as he rakes his gaze over my body. He runs a hand over his mouth, shakes his head and then he puts a satchel of coin on the counter. He jerks his head toward the exit, but I do not move.

“Tell me the six,” I order. The dimple in the center of his chin juts forward as his jaw clenches. My breath comes faster and I realize I need to know this, and part of me is angry with Finn for not telling me sooner. All emotions that stem from anger lace my body. I am spiteful I hear of this from the darklings. I worry that six is far too many to feel. I am panicked I will never feel them before I am whisked to my fate. “What am I to you? Tell me the six and what did the other male darkling mean when he said ‘share me’?” My fists clench by my sides and worry creases Finn’s forehead. I know he worries I will have a magical outburst.

He glances behind me and then out the door behind him. I hear feet shuffling so I know the darkling women are here, watching us.

“Come,” he orders.

“Tell me.” I raise my chin. His confidence does not waver.

“I will,” Finn finally mutters quietly. I walk past him and out the door, stepping over the blood puddle in my way.

“What did the seamstresses tell you?” Finn asks as he cleans out a house much smaller than the ones in our circle. His brown shaggy hair falls into his eyes every time he bends over. It maddens my insides.

“They accused me of being unfeeling. They wanted to know what I was to you, Finn. Why does it matter to everyone that you protect me?” I sit on a pallet on the floor barefoot, watching him.

“Our arrangement isn’t familiar. Male darklings usually distance themselves from females because of the decree we abide by. You understand that most think you are…keeping me company.” He does not meet my eyes when he speaks and I think he is omitting something important.

“Explain,” I say. He exhales loudly and runs his hands through his hair. It falls back into his eyes. I smile.

“There are things that I have to do to relieve my issues. Living primarily with women and the fact that they are off limits, makes the urges utterly unbearable. It partly has to do with the dark that is inside me, dormant as it may be. Some compulsions are harder to control than others. I have to…”

My mouth parts in surprise when I realize what he means. My education on sex is scant. I now know my mother glossed over it because of my fate. That particular knowledge was never needed or intended to be used. I know what Finn is trying to say without outright saying it. “You use female darklings to relieve yourself without having sex,” I say.

His jaw works and his eyes lower. He bites his lip. The silence is his answer.

“What is wrong with me?” I ask. He gaze locks with mine in warning. He is shocked, but it soon yields to hearty laughter.

“The only female on the face of the planet that wants to know why I won’t
use
her and it has to be the one I will never touch in my long, immortal life. Of all the cruel jokes.” He shakes his head and begins pacing again. I think he is leaving me because he needs to ‘relieve his urges’, but I want him to stay with me.

“I understand why you do not want me,” I say because I know I am damaged. I am truly unfeeling—a woman perfect for a dark witch.

“Please tell me of the six, Finn.”

“You don’t understand, darkling, which is why I can’t be around you. The six? Alright. Fear, anger, sadness, surprise, joy…and love. I’ve told you this before—they’ll probably come quickly. It will be getting you to feel something other than anger or fear that will be the biggest challenge.”

I let his words sink in. I try to let the feelings sink in. I want them in my body now more than ever. Finn waits for me to respond. “What if you could make me feel?” I breathe out, willing him to sense my longing.

Finn turns and punches the wall so hard that blood drips down his knuckles and batters the floor. I flinch back and scoot to the other end of the pallet. He has no self-control. I see him clutching his bleeding hand and I am envious of his pain. I want it for myself. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about that? If I could just use you or your mouth and relish every second of it that, maybe you would feel something too? Unfortunately, it’s not that easy, darkling. Just looking at you makes me crazed and draws out the dark that is supposedly non-existent.” His eyes are wild. He breathes out deeply and continues. “Lana is here. I have to go. I’ll check on you in a few days.”

He pulls his shirt over his head and wraps it around his bleeding hand. His tanned chest rises and falls, and I cannot control myself. I do not want to control myself. I stand and walk to stand in front of him, my boots creaking on the wooden floor. Watching me apprehensively, Finn’s eyes slit. Not understanding why I want to, I reach out my hand and lay it on the middle of his sculpted, smooth chest. I watch my fingers rise and fall as he breathes in and out. I close my eyes and tilt my chin up as warm sensations fill my stomach. Everything below my belly button clenches and I step forward. I open my eyes when I realize my hand is still.

Finn stops breathing. He grabs my wrist but does not remove my hand from his body. His pupils are dilated wide, and my lips part when I see his relax and open further. I want to taste his mouth, I want to know what his lips feel like when they melt with mine. I want to
feel
them on me. He leans his face down and it is almost an automatic response. Leaning forward, I tilt my chin up further until our lips almost brush. My breaths come short and shallow, almost a pant. He brings his large hand to cradle the nape of my neck and unexplainably, I feel what comes next. I lick my lips in anticipation and close my eyes. My hammering heart feels like it will beat out of my chest and stars swim on my eyelids.

The door bangs open. Lana is here.

“Well, shit on a fucking shingle, Finn. So, this is what you’ve been doing? I knew it was getting close to time, but didn’t figure you’d take advantage of poor ole’ Emma.”

I back away from Finn quickly. He does not let go of my wrist. He glowers at Lana. I think I imagine it, but it seems his eyes flicker white.

“And you?” Lana says to me. Her eyes widen and a huge smile spreads across her face. “You sluttly little robot. I didn’t know you had it in you!”