Dark Harmony
Page 37
He pretends to peer at them. “You find your soulmate young. There’s love—and it looks like you have a handful of kids—they take after their father, unfortunately. Brats, the entire lot of them.”
I laugh and pull my hands away.
“Oh, and you live a long and happy life.”
I don’t say anything to that. There’s so much uncertainty these days.
I pick the dress back up.
“You’re not wearing that today.”
“Why not?” The moment I ask it, my breath catches. I half expect battle leathers to come raining down from the sky and for Des to announce that, once again, the two of us are training.
Really freaking hate training.
“I could tell you—for a price—”
I groan. “Des …”
A pile of clothes does come raining down, but they’re not battle leathers.
“—or you could simply put the clothes on and deduce my plans like the good PI you are.”
I pick up the folded clothing, recognizing a faded T-shirt that I own. There’s a bra, panties, and jeans. A moment later socks and white Converses join the pile. All mine, all unfit to wear in the Otherworld.
My gaze moves to Des. “What do you have planned for us?”
“Wrong question, cherub. It’s not what I have planned, but where.”
Oh my God. My grip tightens on the clothing. “Where, Des?”
Des gives me a wry smile. “You know the answer to that question.”
I suck in a breath.
Home. Earth.
Traveling on ley lines is no longer the confusing experience it used to be. Before, I couldn’t make sense of these magical highways; my magic wasn’t compatible with it.
But now my power recognizes these strange roads that cross worlds. The magic is thick, pulling at me from all sides. It tries to drive me in its own direction, but Des holds my hands and directs me forward, cutting through the ley line’s bizarre compulsion as he leads us on.
Around me, I see landscapes fly by—hills, forests, deserts, oceans, ruins—all of it foreign and fae … until suddenly it isn’t anymore. Gradually it changes to recognizable cities and landmarks. I see Nepal, then Cairo, Berlin, then—finally—Los Angeles.
With a powerful tug, the Bargainer leads us off the ley line.
For a moment, I feel the magic resist, eager to keep us locked away on this odd highway, cursed to forever wander. But the moment passes, the magic gives, and suddenly we’re in Des’s house, in the round room that contains the ley line portal.
I take a shaky step forward, my foot sinking into the soft grass. I touch the wall of the circular room, my fingers brushing against the vines of wisteria growing up it, the plants swaying against a phantom breeze.
The Bargainer leads me out of the portal room, and it’s only then, only once I see the wood floors, the mounted pictures of faraway places, the mundane lines and details and colors of his Catalina home that I truly process it.
Earth. I’m really back on Earth.
Dear God, never have I wanted to kiss the ground so badly. If I could bear hug it, I totally would.
“Godsdamn, I missed this place,” Des says, glancing around himself.
Next to me, my soulmate looks like a memory come to life. He swaggers into his hallway wearing his leather pants, his shit-kicking boots, and a faded Rolling Stones shirt, his tattooed sleeve on display.
I’ve been so used to him wearing fae attire that seeing him in human clothes in his human home is something out of a dream.
I release Des’s hand and begin to make my way through his house. My heart aches as I take in the furniture, the photos, the decorations on display because each one screams Des—at least, Des as I first knew him, back when I’d never seen his life in the Otherworld.
I head through his living room and out the back door. Late afternoon sun hits my skin, and I close my eyes, soaking it in. I might legit cry. It’s not eternal night, it’s not endless day; it’s just your average sunny afternoon in southern California.
Opening my eyes, I continue on, towards the back of the Bargainer’s property, my attention drifting for a moment to the place where I was taken. Any fear the sight might’ve once conjured is gone, though I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because Karnon’s dead, or because the Thief has stopped kidnapping women. Or maybe it’s not the situation that’s changed, but me.
I cross the last of the Bargainer’s backyard, stepping right up to where the land gives way to a cliff’s edge.
My skin prickles when I hear the sound of the surf crashing below. I take a deep breath, drinking in the smell of salt water.
This is where I belong.
My gaze moves to the horizon. There’s a short expanse of sea that separates my house from his. On a clear day, you can make out the edges of Malibu, and if you have imagination enough, you can draw in my home among those hills.
It’s the same sight the Bargainer must’ve stared at all our years apart. The sight fills my heart will old agony and something sweeter, like the past and the present and the future all overlay each other.
The Bargainer steps up next to me. “It’s warded, you know.”
I glance at him.
“Your house—my house too. They always have been, but after—” his voice catches, “after you were taken, I doubled down on the wards. I can’t promise that you’ll be safe here,” he says, reminding me of our earlier conversation, “but you won’t be altogether defenseless either.”
I stare at Des. The setting sun sets his features on fire. My siren stirs within me, awakening now that my magic’s refueled.
We don’t need defending, she whispers. We need defending from.
“I’m not worried.”
Des flashes me a wicked smile.
People like us are not victims, he’d once told me. We’re someone’s nightmare.
His membranous wings appear, unfolding menacingly behind him. “Ready to go home?”
I raise my eyebrows. I assumed this was our destination.
“Aw, cherub, you didn’t think I’d take you this far only to stop now, did you?”
I search his face, my heart expanding and expanding. He looks like something plucked from my most desperate dreams.
My own wings manifest behind me, punching through the material of my shirt. Des tsks at the sight, He places his hand on the clothing, and in an instant the ripped cloth stitches itself back together.
Des smooths my shirt down. When his eyes meet mine, they dance. “Ready?” he asks, backing away.
I never get the chance to answer. Des backs right off the cliff’s edge, his arms open to the world as he falls backwards. My breath catches at the sight. I should know better by now. The Bargainer has wings and magic and the uncanny ability to teleport. Falling isn’t going to do him in.
He twists in midair, his vicious-looking wings fanning out to catch the breeze.
He beckons to me. “Coming, baby siren?”
God, but he looks magnificent and otherworldly, bathed in the dying light of our sun.
My own wings spread out. I take a running leap from the cliff, and then I’m diving, gliding, soaring. I laugh as the wind buffets me upwards, catching sight of my Converse’s in the process.
Fucking flying over the Pacific.
The two of us cut across the sky, the ocean blurring by beneath us. This moment could last forever, the breeze whistling through my hair, the blue water beneath me, the fading day above me. And Des and I, two strange birds ghosting above the world.
I laugh and pull my hands away.
“Oh, and you live a long and happy life.”
I don’t say anything to that. There’s so much uncertainty these days.
I pick the dress back up.
“You’re not wearing that today.”
“Why not?” The moment I ask it, my breath catches. I half expect battle leathers to come raining down from the sky and for Des to announce that, once again, the two of us are training.
Really freaking hate training.
“I could tell you—for a price—”
I groan. “Des …”
A pile of clothes does come raining down, but they’re not battle leathers.
“—or you could simply put the clothes on and deduce my plans like the good PI you are.”
I pick up the folded clothing, recognizing a faded T-shirt that I own. There’s a bra, panties, and jeans. A moment later socks and white Converses join the pile. All mine, all unfit to wear in the Otherworld.
My gaze moves to Des. “What do you have planned for us?”
“Wrong question, cherub. It’s not what I have planned, but where.”
Oh my God. My grip tightens on the clothing. “Where, Des?”
Des gives me a wry smile. “You know the answer to that question.”
I suck in a breath.
Home. Earth.
Traveling on ley lines is no longer the confusing experience it used to be. Before, I couldn’t make sense of these magical highways; my magic wasn’t compatible with it.
But now my power recognizes these strange roads that cross worlds. The magic is thick, pulling at me from all sides. It tries to drive me in its own direction, but Des holds my hands and directs me forward, cutting through the ley line’s bizarre compulsion as he leads us on.
Around me, I see landscapes fly by—hills, forests, deserts, oceans, ruins—all of it foreign and fae … until suddenly it isn’t anymore. Gradually it changes to recognizable cities and landmarks. I see Nepal, then Cairo, Berlin, then—finally—Los Angeles.
With a powerful tug, the Bargainer leads us off the ley line.
For a moment, I feel the magic resist, eager to keep us locked away on this odd highway, cursed to forever wander. But the moment passes, the magic gives, and suddenly we’re in Des’s house, in the round room that contains the ley line portal.
I take a shaky step forward, my foot sinking into the soft grass. I touch the wall of the circular room, my fingers brushing against the vines of wisteria growing up it, the plants swaying against a phantom breeze.
The Bargainer leads me out of the portal room, and it’s only then, only once I see the wood floors, the mounted pictures of faraway places, the mundane lines and details and colors of his Catalina home that I truly process it.
Earth. I’m really back on Earth.
Dear God, never have I wanted to kiss the ground so badly. If I could bear hug it, I totally would.
“Godsdamn, I missed this place,” Des says, glancing around himself.
Next to me, my soulmate looks like a memory come to life. He swaggers into his hallway wearing his leather pants, his shit-kicking boots, and a faded Rolling Stones shirt, his tattooed sleeve on display.
I’ve been so used to him wearing fae attire that seeing him in human clothes in his human home is something out of a dream.
I release Des’s hand and begin to make my way through his house. My heart aches as I take in the furniture, the photos, the decorations on display because each one screams Des—at least, Des as I first knew him, back when I’d never seen his life in the Otherworld.
I head through his living room and out the back door. Late afternoon sun hits my skin, and I close my eyes, soaking it in. I might legit cry. It’s not eternal night, it’s not endless day; it’s just your average sunny afternoon in southern California.
Opening my eyes, I continue on, towards the back of the Bargainer’s property, my attention drifting for a moment to the place where I was taken. Any fear the sight might’ve once conjured is gone, though I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because Karnon’s dead, or because the Thief has stopped kidnapping women. Or maybe it’s not the situation that’s changed, but me.
I cross the last of the Bargainer’s backyard, stepping right up to where the land gives way to a cliff’s edge.
My skin prickles when I hear the sound of the surf crashing below. I take a deep breath, drinking in the smell of salt water.
This is where I belong.
My gaze moves to the horizon. There’s a short expanse of sea that separates my house from his. On a clear day, you can make out the edges of Malibu, and if you have imagination enough, you can draw in my home among those hills.
It’s the same sight the Bargainer must’ve stared at all our years apart. The sight fills my heart will old agony and something sweeter, like the past and the present and the future all overlay each other.
The Bargainer steps up next to me. “It’s warded, you know.”
I glance at him.
“Your house—my house too. They always have been, but after—” his voice catches, “after you were taken, I doubled down on the wards. I can’t promise that you’ll be safe here,” he says, reminding me of our earlier conversation, “but you won’t be altogether defenseless either.”
I stare at Des. The setting sun sets his features on fire. My siren stirs within me, awakening now that my magic’s refueled.
We don’t need defending, she whispers. We need defending from.
“I’m not worried.”
Des flashes me a wicked smile.
People like us are not victims, he’d once told me. We’re someone’s nightmare.
His membranous wings appear, unfolding menacingly behind him. “Ready to go home?”
I raise my eyebrows. I assumed this was our destination.
“Aw, cherub, you didn’t think I’d take you this far only to stop now, did you?”
I search his face, my heart expanding and expanding. He looks like something plucked from my most desperate dreams.
My own wings manifest behind me, punching through the material of my shirt. Des tsks at the sight, He places his hand on the clothing, and in an instant the ripped cloth stitches itself back together.
Des smooths my shirt down. When his eyes meet mine, they dance. “Ready?” he asks, backing away.
I never get the chance to answer. Des backs right off the cliff’s edge, his arms open to the world as he falls backwards. My breath catches at the sight. I should know better by now. The Bargainer has wings and magic and the uncanny ability to teleport. Falling isn’t going to do him in.
He twists in midair, his vicious-looking wings fanning out to catch the breeze.
He beckons to me. “Coming, baby siren?”
God, but he looks magnificent and otherworldly, bathed in the dying light of our sun.
My own wings spread out. I take a running leap from the cliff, and then I’m diving, gliding, soaring. I laugh as the wind buffets me upwards, catching sight of my Converse’s in the process.
Fucking flying over the Pacific.
The two of us cut across the sky, the ocean blurring by beneath us. This moment could last forever, the breeze whistling through my hair, the blue water beneath me, the fading day above me. And Des and I, two strange birds ghosting above the world.
