Darksoul (40 page)

But his stern tone had no weight—at least, not to me—when I’d seen him holding her the night before,
humming to her in her sleep. Suppressing a smile, I started helping him in the kitchen—only to find that I was just as hilariously useless. If not more. There was spaghetti sauce on my cheek. I was pretty sure that was flour on Hunter’s chin. Willa was still laughing somewhere in the house, yelling for the little bunny. Hunter and I slumped together and called the pizza delivery guy.

I spent most of my time like this. And eventually, after getting myself under control
, I visited Ash. Two weeks later. I went to his apartment and knocked and stepped back. An eternity passed. I briefly wondered if he was home. But just as I was about to turn and leave, he opened the door, looking scruffy and sleepy in gray sweats. His wings drooped against his back, deathly still.

For a mome
nt, we stared at each other. The living room was quiet behind him, and no
ceahel
sculptures hung in the air. Panther slithered across the floor and protectively wound herself around his leg.

“Hi,” I said.

He hesitated. Then: “Hi.”

Another long moment. Pressing my lips together, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the
iPod. Without a word, I held it out to him.

“I
don’t…” He took a step back. “I don’t want it. So—”

I slammed my hand on the
door before he could close it. “Do you want Hunter to find it?”

He paused. “What?”

“Because if he does, he might get the idea to translate the poems for me. I’m trying to protect you here. Okay? I don’t want you to be in pain when I frame the poems and shove them in your face.” I arched an eyebrow. “For the rest of your life.”

Something flickered across his eyes. Hope? Amusement? “You’d shove them in my face?”

“You fucking bet I would. Along with a bucket of my puke.”

“This conversation is getting progressively nastier.”

“Speaking of,” I said, and slumped against the doorframe, letting out a moan. “Please tell me you cooked.”

“Well, yes—”

I was already inside the apartment. As he closed the door behind me, I thought I heard him keep quiet laughter to himself.

He let me rummage through
the fridge, and after I found some leftover pasta, I stuffed it into the microwave. First real meal I’d had in weeks, and I didn’t hesitate to let him know it. As I ate, I begged him to teach me how to cook—and Hunter, too, who could bake a shoe and not know it. The side of Ash’s mouth twitched.

Later, we sat on the ledge of the balcony, our feet swinging under us. The sun was setting, and the world
bloomed in shades of orangey gold. In the corner of my vision, I saw Ash duck his head to light up.

“Look,” I said quietly. “I’m tired of shaking your hand like we’re—making a peace treaty or something. So—” I stretched out my pinky toward him. “Here?”

His eyes softened with amusement. After pocketing the lighter, he reached up and curled his pinky around mine. I stared at him over it. His gaze remained steady, cigarette sizzling to ash between his lips.

“I’m still mad
,” I said. “But I don’t hate you. Okay?”

He s
aid nothing. But from the look on his face, I knew he understood.

“Also—” I gave his pinky a hard squeeze
and lowered it. “What the fuck is up with all the music players you’ve bought? This was the third one and, well, they’re not exactly cheap.”

“Sorry, but do I need to show you my apartment again?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “So you’re rich. Blah.”

Ash laughed a little, turning his head to blow the smoke away from me. Our pinkies remained intertwined between us and I made no move to take mine away. Neither did
he. After a breath, I hooked my foot under his and swung his leg in time with mine. Panther coiled herself around our calves, keeping them locked together. We stayed there, staring into the sinking sun, pinkies curled between us—and at that moment, it felt like maybe, just maybe, everything would be all right.

The
late September night
pressed down on my shoulders. During the last three and a half months, I’d grieved and fought and this is where I was now. Still in this town. And though that one day I’d told Ash I couldn’t leave, I now knew I was wrong.

Sighing,
I drew my palm across the inside of my bracelet and unsheathed the feather-sword. My ponytail was a warm weight against my back. The ponytail I’d shared with the mother I never had. Every time I put my hair up, I’m reminded of her. It’s hard to let go of someone who you thought…it’s just hard. And I was done. I needed to do something about it. I needed to cut it off. Maybe that way she’d be cut off along with it. Maybe that way…it’d hurt less. And then I could forget the empty space she’d left behind.

I reached up and
ran my fingers through the tail. Halfway down, my fingertips caught in a knot.

“
Ow,” I muttered. So much for trying to be poetic.

Once again, I gathered
up the tresses and made sure they were pulled taught. The swish of the blade was quick and painless as it cut cleanly through. My remaining hair fell around me. It barely cleared my shoulders. I brought the severed locks around and stared down at the tangled caramel mass lying inside my palm. My fingers closed around it. Tightened for a second.

Then, after a deep breath, I opened my fist. Nothing happened.
A couple of strands flew off, curling into the sky. That was it. Then a gust blew through and the chunk danced off my hand, fluttering away before I could yank it back. I watched the long hairs separate and fall. For a long time, I simply watched, even after they were gone, even after it had been minutes, then an hour, since they’d disappeared into the dark.

I was still staring at the spot where my hair had blown to dust when they came. For a moment, I said nothing.

Then: “I’m leaving.”

No response. Not that I could hear. No gasps of surprise, no sharp intakes of
breath, no…anything. I almost smiled. I was sure that when I looked, Hunter would be as calm as ever, and Ash would be waiting, cigarette in his mouth and Panther coiled around his neck.

“I have to…” I
lowered my eyes. “I just need to be as far away from here as possible.”

Ash was the one who spoke. “So where will we be going?”

I blinked at his wording. Shooting him a surprised glance over my shoulder, I echoed, “Where will…we?”

“You can’t possibly think we’d let you go alone. Right, Hunter?”

“Certainly.”

I turned to look ahead again. “Don’t worry about me.
You can stay here.”

There was a long moment of silence. I heard the flick of a lighter. The slow, lazy exhale of smoke. After what seemed like a
n eternity, Hunter said, “I thought we’d made it clear.”

“Made what clear?”

Quietly, Ash said, “That we’d go anywhere with you, Zel.”

Startl
ed, I turned to face them. Their eyes were barely visible under the lowered canopy of their lashes. Hunter had a cigarette in his mouth, and gray clumps sleepily sizzled off the tip of it. Ash brought his own to his lips. Took a lingering drag. They blew out a trail of smoke at the same time.

Unlikely companions, I thought. A lost angel prince. An employee of the royal Haelvian court. One was a professional liar. The other could rip a heart
out without blinking an eye. Were they really the only thing I had?

“W
hat the hell,” I said at last, reaching up to massage my temples, my brow scrunching up. “What the hell am I supposed to do when the two of you act like you desperately want to have lasagna with me? You know I get easily freaked out by that shit, guys. Stop it.”

Hunter and Ash shared a
glance and then both held back a tiny little smile. In a swift, graceful blur, they came to stand on either sides of me, and I warily inched away from them. Looking amused, Ash gave Hunter an imperceptible nod over my head.

Hunter took a chopped caramel tuft and let it glide through his scarred fingers. “Your hair.”

“It looks lovely,” said Ash.

“You wouldn’t
dare
,” I said, batting Hunter’s hand away.

Ash propped his elbow on top of my head and gestured grandly with his cigarette.
“The moon—”

“—pales in comparison to you,” Hunter
said in a silky voice, and I felt them giving each other low fives behind my back.

“Okay, I either puked a little bit into my mouth, or
—” I reached up to cover my lips with my fingertips. “Nope, just gas. See, the cheese, it really blows me up.” Before they could respond, I slid out of my place and took a step away, putting up my hands. “Now, if you could please—”

But suddenly, they both grab
bed my wrists and tugged me forward. Ash’s wings burst out of his back, slithering out of his shirt with a sharp metallic rustle, and a hundred
zokyies
burst to life under Hunter’s boots, bearing him afloat. Ash arched his wings. Hunter’s little creatures began to energetically writhe around. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell they were doing.

And then, between one blink and the next, we were suddenly in the air, Hunter and Ash gliding in uncanny unison and my
legs flopping uselessly under me. They held me between them, swinging me a little.

“What is—what are—” I writhe
d midair. “What in the world are you doing! What the fuck, you assholes, put me down! This is—it’s—”

I watched the way my feet were
swaying. How the faraway Earth looked from here, how it slowly slid by.

“It’s—” But my protest melted into a sudden laugh. “Swing me again?”

When they did, I laughed, looking up at them. Hunter’s gaze flicked down, soft with amusement. Ash watched him, and then glanced at me, eyes crinkled at the corners. The swings grew bigger and wider and I kept laughing. I hadn’t laughed—really laughed—in what felt like months. My life had been a lie. My friendship with a lonely prince had also been a lie. But maybe that was all right. Maybe I just needed to live now and forget about what never was.

The swing
s got wider and I knew what was coming. I knew what was coming and I wanted it. It’d be fun. To be thrown.

“We’ll catch you,” said Hunter, answering my unasked question. “Right, Asher?”

“Certainly.”

They swung me up and let go. For a
second, I was trapped midair, arms spread, combat boots rising to kiss the sky. A myriad of stars winked down at me and I was caught in a moment where nothing and no one existed. Only my breathing. Only me, Nephilim orphan without a home, without a name to call her own.

I closed my eyes and let myself fall.

Acknowledgements

Should I be formal
with this? Nah. Fuck that.

Wattpad
fans: You are my world. Thanks so much for being so patient and kind.

Loyal
Wattpad fans who messaged me a lot (you know who you are): You’re the air I breathe. Thank you.

Alshia
Moyez: I don’t know if you’re reading this. I don’t know if you remember me. But back in the fall of 2013, when you critiqued the previous version of this novel, you set me in motion. You made me question what I’d written and that was the greatest gift you ever gave me. Thank you. Without you, there would be no new Darksoul. Without you, this book would not exist. Maybe it sucks. But at least it’s better than how it used to be.

M
y family: Thanks for not believing in my writing. If anything, that made me want to write more.

G
od: You’re awesome. I’m dealing with your angels. Sorry I don’t mention you much.

M
y readers who aren’t from Wattpad: Let’s hope you actually exist. If you do, I love you. And thanks for reading.

Bl
oggers who blogged about my book without me knowing: Can I just give you a hug? And a thousand kisses? And some chocolate? Okay, this is starting to sound like a bad Valentine’s Day commercial.

J
eremiah: Thanks for listening to me rant about the stupid book I’d been writing since forever. You’re better than a boyfriend. This isn’t a declaration of love, I promise. Also, I hope you’re not reading this.

M
y other friends at Brown: Please don’t be reading this.

M
y three followers on Tumblr and Twitter: I adore you.

When I first started writing this acknowledgment, I didn’t think I had anyone to thank. This has been such a lonely endeavor for the most part. But look at that. Sometimes you aren’t alone, after all.

About the Author

Eveline
Hunt was born overseas but has lived in the United States since her middle school years. When she’s not busy typing away on her computer, she enjoys drawing, sleeping, playing her guitar, and getting under her older sister’s skin (especially that last one). She currently attends Brown University, where she plans on majoring on just about everything.
Darksoul
is her first novel.

Visit her at:
www.evelinehunt.co.nr
.