Beautiful Darkness

I lost track of their conversation after that. I was too busy listening to the one in my head. I couldn't stop thinking about Lena and what she'd done for me. Why had it taken me so long to see what was right in front of me?

 

I knew Lena had been punishing herself all this time. The self-imposed isolation, the morbid pictures of headstones taped to her walls, the Dark symbols in her notebook and all over her body, wearing her dead uncle's clothes, even hanging out with Ridley and John — it was never about me. It was about Macon.

 

But I never realized I was an accomplice. Lena had a constant reminder of the crime she was trying herself for, over and over again. A constant reminder of what she lost.

 

Me.

 

She had to look at me every day and hold my hand and kiss me. No wonder she was so hot and cold, kissing me one minute and running away from me the next. I thought about the song lyrics, written over and over again on her walls.

 

Running to stand still.

 

She couldn't get away, and I wouldn't let her. In my last dream, I told her I knew about the trade. I wondered if she had the dream, too — if she knew I shared her secret burden. That she didn't have to carry it alone anymore.

 

I'm so sorry, L.

 

I listened for her voice in the corners of my mind, the faintest possibility she was listening. I didn't hear a sound, but I saw something, fleeting images in my peripheral vision. Snapshots rushing past me like cars in the fast lane on the interstate …

 

I was running, jumping, moving so fast I couldn't focus. Not until my vision adjusted as it had twice before, and I could make out the shapes of trees, leaves, and branches rushing by. At first, all I could hear were the leaves crunching beneath me, the sound of the air as I moved through it. Then I heard voices.

 

“We have to go back.” It was Lena. I followed the sound into the trees.

 

“We can't. You know that.”

 

Sunlight broke easily through the leaves. All I could see were boots — Lena's thrashed ones and John's heavy black ones. They were standing a few feet away.

 

Then I saw their faces. Lena's expression was stubborn. I knew that look. “Sarafine found them. They could be dead!”

 

John walked closer and winced, the same way he had when I saw them in the bedroom. It was an involuntary reflex, a reaction to some kind of pain. He looked down into her golden eyes. “Don't you mean Ethan?”

 

She avoided his gaze. “I mean all of them. Aren't you at least a little worried about Ridley? She disappeared. You don't think those two things could be connected?”

 

“What two things?”

 

Lena's shoulders tensed. “My cousin disappearing and Sarafine showing up out of nowhere?”

 

He reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers between hers the way I used to. “She's always been somewhere, Lena. Your mother is probably the most powerful Dark Caster in the world. Why would she want to hurt Ridley, one of her own?”

 

“I don't know.” Lena was shaking her head, her resolve weakening. “It's just …”

 

“What?”

 

“Even though we're not together, I don't want to see him get hurt. He tried to protect me.”

 

“From what?”

 

From myself.

 

I heard the words, even though she didn't speak them. “From a lot of things. It was different then.”

 

“You were pretending to be someone you weren't, trying to make everyone happy. Did you ever think he wasn't protecting you but holding you back?” I could feel my heart beating faster, my muscles tensing.

 

I was holding him back.

 

“You know, I had a Mortal girlfriend once.”

 

Lena looked shocked. “You did?”

 

John nodded. “Yeah. She was sweet, and I loved her.”

 

“What happened?” Lena was hanging on every word.

 

“It was too hard. She didn't understand what my life was like. That I don't always get to do whatever I want …” He sounded like he was telling the truth.

 

“Why couldn't you do what you wanted?”

 

“My childhood was what you would call strict. Straitjacket strict. Even the rules had rules.”

 

Lena looked confused. “You mean about dating Mortals?”

 

John winced again, cringing this time. “No, it wasn't like that. The way I was raised was because I was different. The man who raised me was the only father I've ever known, and he didn't want me to hurt anyone.”

 

“I don't want to hurt anyone either.”

 

“You're different. I mean, we are.”

 

John grabbed Lena's hand and pulled her next to him. “Don't worry. We'll find your cousin. She probably ran off with that drummer from Suffer.” He was right about the drummer, just not the one he was betting on. Suffer? Lena was hanging out with John's kind, in places called Exile and Suffer. She thought that's what she deserved.