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The Sweetest Dark Quotes
The Sweetest Dark
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Shana Abe2,798 ratings, 3.82 average rating, 547 reviews
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The Sweetest Dark Quotes
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“You do speak." It came out as an accusation.
"When there's someone around worth speaking to.”
― The Sweetest Dark
"When there's someone around worth speaking to.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“You’d better marry her before she reaches eighteen and the spell wears off,” I said.
“Spell?”
“Yes. The one that’s hiding her fangs and pincers from plain sight.”
“I don’t find them especially hidden,” he said mildly.
“Then perhaps you’re a pair.”
His brows lifted. “Now, that’s the cruelest thing you’ve said so far.”
Mrs. Fredericks cleared off, and Chloe took her place before the piano. A beam of sunlight was just beginning its slide into the chamber, capturing her in light. She was a glowing girl with a glowing face, and Joplin at her fingertips.
“Give me time,” I muttered, dropping my gaze to my plate. “I’ll come up with something worse.”
“No doubt.” Armand pulled a flask from his jacket and shook it in front of my nose. “Whiskey. Conveniently the same color as tea. Are you game, waif?” I glanced around, but no one was looking. I lifted my cup, drained it to the dregs, and set it before him.
He was right. It did look like tea. But it tasted like vile burning fire, all the way down my throat.
“Sip it,” he hissed, as I began to cough. His voice lifted over my sputtering. “Dear me, Miss Jones, I do beg your pardon. The tea’s rather hot; I should have mentioned it.”
“Quite all right,” I gasped, as the whiskey swirled an evil amber in my teacup.
Chloe’s song grew bouncier, with lyrics about a girl with strawberries in a wagon. Several of the men had begun to cluster near, drawn to her soprano or perchance her bosom. Two were vying to turn the pages of her music. She had to crane her head to keep Armand in view.
He sent her another smile from his chair, lifting his cup in salute.
“I’m going to kiss you, Eleanore,” he said quietly, still looking at her. “Not now. Later.” His eyes cut back to mine. “I thought it fair to tell you first.”
I stilled. “If you think you can do so without me biting your lip, feel free to try.”
His gaze shone wicked blue. “I don’t mind if you bite.”
“Biting your lip off, I should have said.”
“Ah. Let’s see how it goes, shall we?”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Spell?”
“Yes. The one that’s hiding her fangs and pincers from plain sight.”
“I don’t find them especially hidden,” he said mildly.
“Then perhaps you’re a pair.”
His brows lifted. “Now, that’s the cruelest thing you’ve said so far.”
Mrs. Fredericks cleared off, and Chloe took her place before the piano. A beam of sunlight was just beginning its slide into the chamber, capturing her in light. She was a glowing girl with a glowing face, and Joplin at her fingertips.
“Give me time,” I muttered, dropping my gaze to my plate. “I’ll come up with something worse.”
“No doubt.” Armand pulled a flask from his jacket and shook it in front of my nose. “Whiskey. Conveniently the same color as tea. Are you game, waif?” I glanced around, but no one was looking. I lifted my cup, drained it to the dregs, and set it before him.
He was right. It did look like tea. But it tasted like vile burning fire, all the way down my throat.
“Sip it,” he hissed, as I began to cough. His voice lifted over my sputtering. “Dear me, Miss Jones, I do beg your pardon. The tea’s rather hot; I should have mentioned it.”
“Quite all right,” I gasped, as the whiskey swirled an evil amber in my teacup.
Chloe’s song grew bouncier, with lyrics about a girl with strawberries in a wagon. Several of the men had begun to cluster near, drawn to her soprano or perchance her bosom. Two were vying to turn the pages of her music. She had to crane her head to keep Armand in view.
He sent her another smile from his chair, lifting his cup in salute.
“I’m going to kiss you, Eleanore,” he said quietly, still looking at her. “Not now. Later.” His eyes cut back to mine. “I thought it fair to tell you first.”
I stilled. “If you think you can do so without me biting your lip, feel free to try.”
His gaze shone wicked blue. “I don’t mind if you bite.”
“Biting your lip off, I should have said.”
“Ah. Let’s see how it goes, shall we?”
― The Sweetest Dark
“I’d dreamed once of a forest of gold, and Jesse had done what he could to give it to me. His bedroom had been transformed into a wonderland of leaves and flowers, pinecones and branches of birch and oak, all of it glimmering, all of it singing. The bed was covered, his chest of drawers, the sill.
Much of it was jumbled together, beautiful for what it was if not its presentation. Jesse had last left this room on the night of his death, right after he’d called to me, right before he’d gone to the castle. So he would have been scattering his final gift in haste, knowing he worked against the clock.
Knowing, somehow, what was to come.
Which meant he’d been making gold for weeks. When I’d seen him so tired, when he’d told me all those nights that we should rest apart…he had been doing this.
For me.
A folded note had been set upon the bed. My name had been scrawled upon it.
I love you was all it said inside.
I sank to the floor. I looked up and all around as the sun danced through the window and turned Jesse’s room into an ambered heaven of song and shimmer and sparks.
That was how Armand found me, hours later. That was what he saw, as well, what he heard, as he walked slowly into the chamber and eased down beside me to rest his back against the bed.
We sat there together, listening, marveling.
In time, his hand reached out and took firm hold of mine.”
― The Sweetest Dark
Much of it was jumbled together, beautiful for what it was if not its presentation. Jesse had last left this room on the night of his death, right after he’d called to me, right before he’d gone to the castle. So he would have been scattering his final gift in haste, knowing he worked against the clock.
Knowing, somehow, what was to come.
Which meant he’d been making gold for weeks. When I’d seen him so tired, when he’d told me all those nights that we should rest apart…he had been doing this.
For me.
A folded note had been set upon the bed. My name had been scrawled upon it.
I love you was all it said inside.
I sank to the floor. I looked up and all around as the sun danced through the window and turned Jesse’s room into an ambered heaven of song and shimmer and sparks.
That was how Armand found me, hours later. That was what he saw, as well, what he heard, as he walked slowly into the chamber and eased down beside me to rest his back against the bed.
We sat there together, listening, marveling.
In time, his hand reached out and took firm hold of mine.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“How good to see you, Miss Jones.”
That debonair tone, the friendly press of his hand upon mine. It was such a contrast to our final moments in the cottage that I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Thank you for having me,” I replied, loudly enough for the duke to hear.
“But I haven’t,” said Armand under his breath. “So far.”
I tugged back my hand. “Ever the gentleman, aren’t you?”
“I try. Come aboard, waif. Come and experience a gentleman’s world.”
― The Sweetest Dark
That debonair tone, the friendly press of his hand upon mine. It was such a contrast to our final moments in the cottage that I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Thank you for having me,” I replied, loudly enough for the duke to hear.
“But I haven’t,” said Armand under his breath. “So far.”
I tugged back my hand. “Ever the gentleman, aren’t you?”
“I try. Come aboard, waif. Come and experience a gentleman’s world.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“She was too compelling to look at directly. Bright like the sun, bright and terrible. Only one other being could look upon her, and that was Death. And so…they became lovers.”
He said the word like a caress, like velvet again, and my face began to heat.
“Together they forged great and hellish things,” Jesse murmured. “Lightning and waterfalls that churned into clouds off the tip of the world. Chasms so winding deep that daylight never traced their endings. They dreamed through golden days and silvered nights. All the other creatures envied or adored them, because Death and the Elemental were destruction and creation joined as One. In the natural order of things, they should not have been stronger joined. And yet they were.”
He shifted, coming closer to me. A hand settled lightly atop my chest, directly over my heart. At our feet the seawater splashed a little, as if disturbed by something rolling over in the dark, distant deep.
“Centuries passed, and mankind began to devour the earth, even the wildest places. They had tools to invent and wars to fight and grubby, short lives. Nothing about them dwelled in the magic of the ancient spirits. So although Death, the Great Hunter, prospered as he sieved through their villages, the Elemental, strong as she once was, thinned into a web of gossamer. Human lives simply tore her apart.”
His hand was so warm. Warmer than I, warmer than the air, and still just barely touching me. The light behind my lids never lifted, so I knew he wasn’t glowing, but it felt as if he held a tame coal to my skin. It felt like something painless and ablaze, drawing my heart upward into it.
“The time had come for them to divide. Like all the rest of her kind, the goddess would cease to exist; she had no other course. So Death and the Elemental severed their joined hearts. For a few generations more, she drifted alone through the last of the sacred places, deserts, and fjords, lands so savage no human had yet desecrated them.”
Jesse’s voice dropped to a whisper. Without moving his hand, he bent down, his breath in my ear. “And Death, who had tasted her brightness, who would never cease to crave it-who knew her better than all the collected souls of all mankind’s weeping dead-became her Hunter.”
I was hot and strange. I was light and lighter, and curiously my breath came so slow.
“Until at last, one starry night beneath the desert moon, she surrendered to him. She allowed him to come to her, to make love to her. To unravel her…”
It was happening. He sat next to her and bore witness to her change, her pulse slowing, her skin blanching, the fans of her lashes stark against the contours of her face. He kept his palm there against her chest, up and down with her respiration, and watched the smoke begin to curl around his fingers.
“And by his hand, in the bliss of her unraveling, she touched the stars…”
Lora’s breath hitched. Her heart skipped-then stopped.
If I could take this from you, Jesse thought fiercely. If I could take this one moment away from you and keep the agony for myself-
Her eyes opened, went instantly to his. Panic lit her gaze.
Then she was gone.
His fingers sank to the floor through her empty blouse, and the blue dragon smoke that was all of Eleanore Jones rose into strands above him.”
― The Sweetest Dark
He said the word like a caress, like velvet again, and my face began to heat.
“Together they forged great and hellish things,” Jesse murmured. “Lightning and waterfalls that churned into clouds off the tip of the world. Chasms so winding deep that daylight never traced their endings. They dreamed through golden days and silvered nights. All the other creatures envied or adored them, because Death and the Elemental were destruction and creation joined as One. In the natural order of things, they should not have been stronger joined. And yet they were.”
He shifted, coming closer to me. A hand settled lightly atop my chest, directly over my heart. At our feet the seawater splashed a little, as if disturbed by something rolling over in the dark, distant deep.
“Centuries passed, and mankind began to devour the earth, even the wildest places. They had tools to invent and wars to fight and grubby, short lives. Nothing about them dwelled in the magic of the ancient spirits. So although Death, the Great Hunter, prospered as he sieved through their villages, the Elemental, strong as she once was, thinned into a web of gossamer. Human lives simply tore her apart.”
His hand was so warm. Warmer than I, warmer than the air, and still just barely touching me. The light behind my lids never lifted, so I knew he wasn’t glowing, but it felt as if he held a tame coal to my skin. It felt like something painless and ablaze, drawing my heart upward into it.
“The time had come for them to divide. Like all the rest of her kind, the goddess would cease to exist; she had no other course. So Death and the Elemental severed their joined hearts. For a few generations more, she drifted alone through the last of the sacred places, deserts, and fjords, lands so savage no human had yet desecrated them.”
Jesse’s voice dropped to a whisper. Without moving his hand, he bent down, his breath in my ear. “And Death, who had tasted her brightness, who would never cease to crave it-who knew her better than all the collected souls of all mankind’s weeping dead-became her Hunter.”
I was hot and strange. I was light and lighter, and curiously my breath came so slow.
“Until at last, one starry night beneath the desert moon, she surrendered to him. She allowed him to come to her, to make love to her. To unravel her…”
It was happening. He sat next to her and bore witness to her change, her pulse slowing, her skin blanching, the fans of her lashes stark against the contours of her face. He kept his palm there against her chest, up and down with her respiration, and watched the smoke begin to curl around his fingers.
“And by his hand, in the bliss of her unraveling, she touched the stars…”
Lora’s breath hitched. Her heart skipped-then stopped.
If I could take this from you, Jesse thought fiercely. If I could take this one moment away from you and keep the agony for myself-
Her eyes opened, went instantly to his. Panic lit her gaze.
Then she was gone.
His fingers sank to the floor through her empty blouse, and the blue dragon smoke that was all of Eleanore Jones rose into strands above him.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Don’t worry. If we sink, we’ll swim together to shore. We’ll use your bewitching chapeau as a float.”
The nose of the yacht dipped hard, then rose. The wing began a low howl around us.
“I’m not blotto,” he said, in response to my expression. He turned to the railing and chucked the empty flute to the waves. “Not yet, in any case.”
I went to stand beside him. The flute had sunk beneath the surface already, on its way to an eternity of sand and tide.
“That’s good. Because I can’t swim.”
“Why did you go swimming in the grotto, then,” he asked too pleasantly, “if you can’t swim?”
“I wasn’t swimming there. I was smoke, at the ceiling, when you came in. Falling into the water was an accident.”
“You’re welcome,” Armand said.
I refused to ask for what. We both knew.”
― The Sweetest Dark
The nose of the yacht dipped hard, then rose. The wing began a low howl around us.
“I’m not blotto,” he said, in response to my expression. He turned to the railing and chucked the empty flute to the waves. “Not yet, in any case.”
I went to stand beside him. The flute had sunk beneath the surface already, on its way to an eternity of sand and tide.
“That’s good. Because I can’t swim.”
“Why did you go swimming in the grotto, then,” he asked too pleasantly, “if you can’t swim?”
“I wasn’t swimming there. I was smoke, at the ceiling, when you came in. Falling into the water was an accident.”
“You’re welcome,” Armand said.
I refused to ask for what. We both knew.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Is that why you came?'
'No, I came because I simply can't get enough of people looking down their noses at me. The girls at school are getting frightfully lax about it.'
'Are they? How remiss of them. We're taught from the cradle how to look down our noses, you know, we rich sons of bitches. Perhaps Westcliffe's curriculum is a tad too liberal these days.”
― The Sweetest Dark
'No, I came because I simply can't get enough of people looking down their noses at me. The girls at school are getting frightfully lax about it.'
'Are they? How remiss of them. We're taught from the cradle how to look down our noses, you know, we rich sons of bitches. Perhaps Westcliffe's curriculum is a tad too liberal these days.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“I’ll start in the air,” I said, far more steadily than I thought I could, considering. I knelt to tie the shirt around his thigh, cinching it tight above the wound; he stiffened but let me finish the knot. “The air first, the airship, and then-then I’ll dive.”
“You can’t swim,” broke in Armand. “You told me that you can’t.”
“Maybe I can now. If I’m a dragon.”
“Don’t be an idiot! If you can’t swim, you can’t swim, Eleanore! You’ll drown out there, and what the bloody hell do you think you’re going to do anyway to a U-boat? Bite it open?”
I stood again. “Yes! If I must! I don’t hear you coming up with a better-“
“You’ll die out there!”
“Or we’ll all die here!”
“We’re going to find another way!”
“You two work on that. I’m off.” I fixed them both with one last, vehement look, the Turn rising inside me.
Remember this. Remember them, this moment, this heartbreak, these two boys. Remember that they loved you.
Armand had reached for my shoulders. “I forbid-Eleanore, please, no-“
“No,” echoed Jesse, speaking at last. “You’re not going after the submarine, Lora. You won’t need to.”
Armand and I paused together, glancing down at him. I stood practically on tiptoe, so ready to become my other self.
Jesse climbed clumsily to his feet. When he swayed, we both lunged to catch him.
“Armand will take me to the shore. I’ll handle the U-boat.”
“How?” demanded Armand at once.
But I understood. I could read him so well now, Jesse-of-the-stars. I understood what he meant to do, and what it would cost him.
I felt myself shaking my head. Above us, the airship propellers thumped louder and louder.
“Yes,” said Jesse, smiling his lovely smile at me. “I already sense your agreement. Death and the Elemental were stronger joined than apart, remember? This is our joining. Don’t waste any more time quarreling with me about it. That’s not your way.” He leaned down to me, a hand tangled in my hair. His mouth pressed to mine, and for the first time ever I didn’t feel bliss at his touch.
I felt misery.
“Go on, Lora-of-the-moon,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re going to save us. I know you will.”
I glared past him to the harsh, baffled face of Armand. “Will you help him? Do you swear it?”
“I-yes, I will. I do.”
I disentangled Jesse’s hand, kissed it, stepped back, and let the Turn consume me, smoke rising and rising, leaving the castle and all I loved behind me for the wild open sky.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“You can’t swim,” broke in Armand. “You told me that you can’t.”
“Maybe I can now. If I’m a dragon.”
“Don’t be an idiot! If you can’t swim, you can’t swim, Eleanore! You’ll drown out there, and what the bloody hell do you think you’re going to do anyway to a U-boat? Bite it open?”
I stood again. “Yes! If I must! I don’t hear you coming up with a better-“
“You’ll die out there!”
“Or we’ll all die here!”
“We’re going to find another way!”
“You two work on that. I’m off.” I fixed them both with one last, vehement look, the Turn rising inside me.
Remember this. Remember them, this moment, this heartbreak, these two boys. Remember that they loved you.
Armand had reached for my shoulders. “I forbid-Eleanore, please, no-“
“No,” echoed Jesse, speaking at last. “You’re not going after the submarine, Lora. You won’t need to.”
Armand and I paused together, glancing down at him. I stood practically on tiptoe, so ready to become my other self.
Jesse climbed clumsily to his feet. When he swayed, we both lunged to catch him.
“Armand will take me to the shore. I’ll handle the U-boat.”
“How?” demanded Armand at once.
But I understood. I could read him so well now, Jesse-of-the-stars. I understood what he meant to do, and what it would cost him.
I felt myself shaking my head. Above us, the airship propellers thumped louder and louder.
“Yes,” said Jesse, smiling his lovely smile at me. “I already sense your agreement. Death and the Elemental were stronger joined than apart, remember? This is our joining. Don’t waste any more time quarreling with me about it. That’s not your way.” He leaned down to me, a hand tangled in my hair. His mouth pressed to mine, and for the first time ever I didn’t feel bliss at his touch.
I felt misery.
“Go on, Lora-of-the-moon,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re going to save us. I know you will.”
I glared past him to the harsh, baffled face of Armand. “Will you help him? Do you swear it?”
“I-yes, I will. I do.”
I disentangled Jesse’s hand, kissed it, stepped back, and let the Turn consume me, smoke rising and rising, leaving the castle and all I loved behind me for the wild open sky.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“My, my,” Chloe murmured, studying the chocolate she held. “I do believe this one’s gone off. It stinks like a cesspit.” Her eyes lifted. “Oh, wait. It’s only the guttersnipe.”
“Or perhaps it’s your perfume,” I said cordially. “You always smell like a whore.”
“It’s French,” retorted Runny-Nose, before Chloe could speak.
“Then she smells like a French whore.”
“Aren’t you the eloquent young miss.” Chloe’s gaze cut to Sophia, standing close behind me. “Slumming, little sister? I can’t confess I’m surprised.”
“I’m merely here for the show,” Sophia said breezily. “Something tells me it’s going to be good.”
I took the brooch from my pocket and let it slide down my index finger, giving it a playful twirl. “A fine try. But, alas, no winner’s prize for you, Chloe. I’m sure you’ve been waiting here for Westcliffe to raise the alarm about her missing ring, ready with some well-rehearsed story about how you saw me sneaking into her office and sneaking out again, and oh, look isn’t that Eleanore’s brooch there on the floor? But I’ve news for you, dearie. You’re sloppy. You’re stupid. And the next time you go into my room and steal from me, I’ll make certain you regret it for the rest of your days.”
“How dare you threaten me, you little tart!”
“I’m not threatening. You have no idea how easy it would be to, say, pour glue on your hair while you sleep. Cut up all your pretty dresses into ribbons.”
Chloe dropped her half-eaten chocolate back into its box, turning to her toadies. “You heard her! You all head her! When Westcliffe finds out about this-“
“I didn’t hear a thing,” piped up Sophia. “In fact, I do believe that Eleanore and I aren’t even here right now. We’re both off in my room, diligently studying.” She sauntered to my side, smiling. “And I’ll swear to that, sister. Without hesitation. I have no misgivings about calling you all liars right to Westcliffe’s face.”
“What fun,” I said softly, into the hush. “Shall we give it a go? What d’you say, girls? Up for a bit of blood sport?”
Chloe pushed to her feet, kicking the chocolates out of her way. All the toadies cringed.
“You,” she sneered, her gaze scouring me. “You with your ridiculous clothing and that preposterous bracelet, acting as if you actually belong here! Really, Eleanore, I wonder that you’ve learned nothing of real use yet. Allow me to explain matters to you. You may have duped Sophia into vouching for you, but your word means nothing. You’re no one. No matter what you do here or who you may somehow manage to impress, you’ll always be no one. How perfectly sad that you’re allowed to pretend otherwise.”
“I’m the one he wants,” I said evenly. “No one’s pretending that.”
I didn’t have to say who.
She stared at me, silent, her color high. I saw with interest that real tears began to well in her eyes.
“That’s right.” I gave the barest smile. “Me, not you. Think about that tomorrow, when I’m with him on the yacht. Think about how he watches me. How he listens to me. Another stunt like this”-I held up the circlet-“and you’ll be shocked at what I’m able to convince him about you.”
“As if you could,” she scoffed, but there was apprehension behind those tears.
“Try me.”
I brought my foot down on one of the chocolates, grinding it into a deep, greasy smear along the rug.
“Cheerio,” I said to them all, and turned around and left.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Or perhaps it’s your perfume,” I said cordially. “You always smell like a whore.”
“It’s French,” retorted Runny-Nose, before Chloe could speak.
“Then she smells like a French whore.”
“Aren’t you the eloquent young miss.” Chloe’s gaze cut to Sophia, standing close behind me. “Slumming, little sister? I can’t confess I’m surprised.”
“I’m merely here for the show,” Sophia said breezily. “Something tells me it’s going to be good.”
I took the brooch from my pocket and let it slide down my index finger, giving it a playful twirl. “A fine try. But, alas, no winner’s prize for you, Chloe. I’m sure you’ve been waiting here for Westcliffe to raise the alarm about her missing ring, ready with some well-rehearsed story about how you saw me sneaking into her office and sneaking out again, and oh, look isn’t that Eleanore’s brooch there on the floor? But I’ve news for you, dearie. You’re sloppy. You’re stupid. And the next time you go into my room and steal from me, I’ll make certain you regret it for the rest of your days.”
“How dare you threaten me, you little tart!”
“I’m not threatening. You have no idea how easy it would be to, say, pour glue on your hair while you sleep. Cut up all your pretty dresses into ribbons.”
Chloe dropped her half-eaten chocolate back into its box, turning to her toadies. “You heard her! You all head her! When Westcliffe finds out about this-“
“I didn’t hear a thing,” piped up Sophia. “In fact, I do believe that Eleanore and I aren’t even here right now. We’re both off in my room, diligently studying.” She sauntered to my side, smiling. “And I’ll swear to that, sister. Without hesitation. I have no misgivings about calling you all liars right to Westcliffe’s face.”
“What fun,” I said softly, into the hush. “Shall we give it a go? What d’you say, girls? Up for a bit of blood sport?”
Chloe pushed to her feet, kicking the chocolates out of her way. All the toadies cringed.
“You,” she sneered, her gaze scouring me. “You with your ridiculous clothing and that preposterous bracelet, acting as if you actually belong here! Really, Eleanore, I wonder that you’ve learned nothing of real use yet. Allow me to explain matters to you. You may have duped Sophia into vouching for you, but your word means nothing. You’re no one. No matter what you do here or who you may somehow manage to impress, you’ll always be no one. How perfectly sad that you’re allowed to pretend otherwise.”
“I’m the one he wants,” I said evenly. “No one’s pretending that.”
I didn’t have to say who.
She stared at me, silent, her color high. I saw with interest that real tears began to well in her eyes.
“That’s right.” I gave the barest smile. “Me, not you. Think about that tomorrow, when I’m with him on the yacht. Think about how he watches me. How he listens to me. Another stunt like this”-I held up the circlet-“and you’ll be shocked at what I’m able to convince him about you.”
“As if you could,” she scoffed, but there was apprehension behind those tears.
“Try me.”
I brought my foot down on one of the chocolates, grinding it into a deep, greasy smear along the rug.
“Cheerio,” I said to them all, and turned around and left.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“How long have you known about him?” I asked Jesse, using my free hand to gesture toward his guest.
“Forever. Nearly as long as I did about you.”
“God, Jesse. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“He was a shadow of you.” Jesse shrugged. “His background is diluted, his dragon blood les strong. Even with you in his proximity, I wasn’t certain any of his drakon traits would emerge. He hasn’t anywhere near your potential.”
“Pardon me,” Armand said, freezingly polite, “but he is still right here with you in this room.”
“Do you mean…I did it?” I asked. “I made him figure it out? What he is?”
Jesse gave me an assessing look. “Like is drawn to like. We’re all three of us thick with magic now, even if it’s different kinds. It’s inevitable that we’ll feed off one another. The only way to prevent that would be to separate. And even then it might not be enough. Too much has already begun.”
“I don’t want to separate from you,” I said.
“No.” Jesse lifted our hands and gave mine a kiss. “Don’t worry about that.”
Armand practically rolled his eyes. “If you two are quite done, might we talk some sense tonight? It’s late, I’m tired, and your ruddy chair, Holms, is about as comfortable as sitting on a tack. I want to…”
But his voice only faded into silence. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose. I noted again those shining nails. The elegance of his bones beneath his flawless skin.
Skin that was marble-pale, I realized. Just like mine.
“Yes?” I said, more gently than I’d intended.
“Excuse me. I’m finding this all a bit…impossible to process. I’m beginning to believe that this is the most profoundly unpleasant dream I’ve ever been caught in.”
“Allow me to assure you that you’re awake, Lord Armand,” I retorted, all gentleness gone. “To wit: You hear music no one else does. Distinctive music from gemstones and all sorts of metals. That day I played the piano at Tranquility, I was playing your father’s ruby song, one you must have heard exactly as I did. Exactly as your mother would have. You also have, perhaps, something like a voice inside you. Something specific and base, stronger than instinct, hopeless to ignore. Animals distrust you. You might even dream of smoke or flying.”
He dropped his arm. “You got that from the diary.”
“No, I got that from my own life. And damned lucky you are to have been brought into this world as a pampered little prince instead of spending your childhood being like this and still having to fend for yourself, as I did.”
“Right. Lucky me.” Armand looked at Jesse, his eyes glittering. “And what are you? Another dragon? A gargoyle, perchance, or a werecat?”
“Jesse is a star.”
The hand went up to conceal his face again. “Of course he is. The. Most. Unpleasant. Dream. Ever.”
I separated my hand from Jesse’s, angling for more bread. “I think you’re going to have to show him.”
“Aye.”
A single blue eye blinked open between Armand’s fingers. “Show me what?”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Forever. Nearly as long as I did about you.”
“God, Jesse. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“He was a shadow of you.” Jesse shrugged. “His background is diluted, his dragon blood les strong. Even with you in his proximity, I wasn’t certain any of his drakon traits would emerge. He hasn’t anywhere near your potential.”
“Pardon me,” Armand said, freezingly polite, “but he is still right here with you in this room.”
“Do you mean…I did it?” I asked. “I made him figure it out? What he is?”
Jesse gave me an assessing look. “Like is drawn to like. We’re all three of us thick with magic now, even if it’s different kinds. It’s inevitable that we’ll feed off one another. The only way to prevent that would be to separate. And even then it might not be enough. Too much has already begun.”
“I don’t want to separate from you,” I said.
“No.” Jesse lifted our hands and gave mine a kiss. “Don’t worry about that.”
Armand practically rolled his eyes. “If you two are quite done, might we talk some sense tonight? It’s late, I’m tired, and your ruddy chair, Holms, is about as comfortable as sitting on a tack. I want to…”
But his voice only faded into silence. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose. I noted again those shining nails. The elegance of his bones beneath his flawless skin.
Skin that was marble-pale, I realized. Just like mine.
“Yes?” I said, more gently than I’d intended.
“Excuse me. I’m finding this all a bit…impossible to process. I’m beginning to believe that this is the most profoundly unpleasant dream I’ve ever been caught in.”
“Allow me to assure you that you’re awake, Lord Armand,” I retorted, all gentleness gone. “To wit: You hear music no one else does. Distinctive music from gemstones and all sorts of metals. That day I played the piano at Tranquility, I was playing your father’s ruby song, one you must have heard exactly as I did. Exactly as your mother would have. You also have, perhaps, something like a voice inside you. Something specific and base, stronger than instinct, hopeless to ignore. Animals distrust you. You might even dream of smoke or flying.”
He dropped his arm. “You got that from the diary.”
“No, I got that from my own life. And damned lucky you are to have been brought into this world as a pampered little prince instead of spending your childhood being like this and still having to fend for yourself, as I did.”
“Right. Lucky me.” Armand looked at Jesse, his eyes glittering. “And what are you? Another dragon? A gargoyle, perchance, or a werecat?”
“Jesse is a star.”
The hand went up to conceal his face again. “Of course he is. The. Most. Unpleasant. Dream. Ever.”
I separated my hand from Jesse’s, angling for more bread. “I think you’re going to have to show him.”
“Aye.”
A single blue eye blinked open between Armand’s fingers. “Show me what?”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Stop,” Jesse said.
I stared up at him, almost panting with fear.
“Stop, beloved,” he said more gently, and took up my clenched fist with both hands. “I’ve upset you, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to dread yourself. I don’t want you to dread what is to come. Like I said, you’re exceptional, so there may be nothing to worry about at all. But whatever happens, whatever you face, I’ll face it with you. Do you hear?”
“How can you say it? It nearly happened on the roof today. You can’t know-“
“I will be with you. We’re together now, and the universe knows I won’t let you make your sacrifice alone. Dragon protects star. Star adores dragon. An age-old axiom. Simple as that.”
I looked down at our hands, both of his curled over mine. I unclenched my fist. Blood from the thorn smeared my skin.
“The universe,” I muttered. “The same universe that has produced the Kaiser and bedbugs and Chloe Pemington. How reassuring.”
With the same absolute concentration he might have shown for turning flowers into gold, Jesse Holms smoothed out my fingers between his, wiping away the blood. He turned my hand over and lifted it to his lips. His next words fell soft as velvet into the heart of my palm.
“Those nights, in the sweetest dark, we shared our dreams. That’s you answer. I was stitched into yours, and you were stitched into mind, and that was real, I promise you.” I felt his lips curve into a smile. The unbelievably sensual, ticklish scuff of his whiskers. “Very good dreams they were, too,” he added.
It was no use trying to cling to mortification or fear. He was holding my hand. He was smiling at me past the cup of my fingers, and although I couldn’t see it, the shape of it against my skin was beyond tantalizing, rough and masculine. I was a creature gone hot and cold and light-headed with pleasure. I wanted to snatch back my hand and I wanted him to go on touching me like this forever. I wanted to walk with him back to his cottage, to his bed, and to hell with the Germans and school and all the rest of the world.
But he looked up suddenly.
“They’re searching for you,” he said, releasing me at once, moving away.
They were. I heard my name being called by a variety of voices in a variety of tones, all of them still inside the castle, none of them sounding happy.
“Go on.” With a few quick steps, Jesse was less than a shadow, retreating into the black wall of the woods. “Don’t get into trouble. And, Lora?”
“Yes?”
There was hushed laughter in his voice. “Until we can see each other again, do us both a favor. Keep away from rooftops.”
― The Sweetest Dark
I stared up at him, almost panting with fear.
“Stop, beloved,” he said more gently, and took up my clenched fist with both hands. “I’ve upset you, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to dread yourself. I don’t want you to dread what is to come. Like I said, you’re exceptional, so there may be nothing to worry about at all. But whatever happens, whatever you face, I’ll face it with you. Do you hear?”
“How can you say it? It nearly happened on the roof today. You can’t know-“
“I will be with you. We’re together now, and the universe knows I won’t let you make your sacrifice alone. Dragon protects star. Star adores dragon. An age-old axiom. Simple as that.”
I looked down at our hands, both of his curled over mine. I unclenched my fist. Blood from the thorn smeared my skin.
“The universe,” I muttered. “The same universe that has produced the Kaiser and bedbugs and Chloe Pemington. How reassuring.”
With the same absolute concentration he might have shown for turning flowers into gold, Jesse Holms smoothed out my fingers between his, wiping away the blood. He turned my hand over and lifted it to his lips. His next words fell soft as velvet into the heart of my palm.
“Those nights, in the sweetest dark, we shared our dreams. That’s you answer. I was stitched into yours, and you were stitched into mind, and that was real, I promise you.” I felt his lips curve into a smile. The unbelievably sensual, ticklish scuff of his whiskers. “Very good dreams they were, too,” he added.
It was no use trying to cling to mortification or fear. He was holding my hand. He was smiling at me past the cup of my fingers, and although I couldn’t see it, the shape of it against my skin was beyond tantalizing, rough and masculine. I was a creature gone hot and cold and light-headed with pleasure. I wanted to snatch back my hand and I wanted him to go on touching me like this forever. I wanted to walk with him back to his cottage, to his bed, and to hell with the Germans and school and all the rest of the world.
But he looked up suddenly.
“They’re searching for you,” he said, releasing me at once, moving away.
They were. I heard my name being called by a variety of voices in a variety of tones, all of them still inside the castle, none of them sounding happy.
“Go on.” With a few quick steps, Jesse was less than a shadow, retreating into the black wall of the woods. “Don’t get into trouble. And, Lora?”
“Yes?”
There was hushed laughter in his voice. “Until we can see each other again, do us both a favor. Keep away from rooftops.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Why do you want to know?”
The shrug again. “Just wondering.”
“Really. You’ve skipped your lawn tennis or duck hunting or whiskey drinking or whatever else people of your sort do all day, only to come all the way out to the island to ask me about the piano piece. Because you were just wondering.” I pushed away from the door. “Coming here to kiss me would have been more believable.”
“Well, it was second on my list.”
“I’m not intimidated by you,” I said, blunt. “If you’re hoping I’ll turn out to be some pathetic, blubbering little rag-girl who begs you not to ruin her, you’re in for a surprise.”
“That’s good.” Lord Armand met my eyes. “I like surprises.”
We gazed at each other, he on the bed and me by the door, neither of us giving quarter. It seemed to me that the room was growing even more dim, that time was repeating the same ploy it had pulled in Jesse’s cottage, drawing out long and slow. The storm outside railed against the castle walls, drowning the air within. It layered darkness through Armand’s eyes, the once-vivid blue now deep as the ocean at night.
Beyond my window the rain fell and fell, fat clouds weeping as if they’d never stop.
“Nice bracelet,” Armand said softly. “Did you steal it?”
I shook my head. “You gave it to me.”
“Did I?”
“As far as everyone else if concerned, yes. You did.”
“Hmm. And what do I get in return for agreeing to be your…benefactor?”
“The answer to your question.”
“No kiss?” he asked, even softer.
“No.”
His lips quirked. “All right, then, waif. I accept your terms. We’ll try the kiss later.”
― The Sweetest Dark
The shrug again. “Just wondering.”
“Really. You’ve skipped your lawn tennis or duck hunting or whiskey drinking or whatever else people of your sort do all day, only to come all the way out to the island to ask me about the piano piece. Because you were just wondering.” I pushed away from the door. “Coming here to kiss me would have been more believable.”
“Well, it was second on my list.”
“I’m not intimidated by you,” I said, blunt. “If you’re hoping I’ll turn out to be some pathetic, blubbering little rag-girl who begs you not to ruin her, you’re in for a surprise.”
“That’s good.” Lord Armand met my eyes. “I like surprises.”
We gazed at each other, he on the bed and me by the door, neither of us giving quarter. It seemed to me that the room was growing even more dim, that time was repeating the same ploy it had pulled in Jesse’s cottage, drawing out long and slow. The storm outside railed against the castle walls, drowning the air within. It layered darkness through Armand’s eyes, the once-vivid blue now deep as the ocean at night.
Beyond my window the rain fell and fell, fat clouds weeping as if they’d never stop.
“Nice bracelet,” Armand said softly. “Did you steal it?”
I shook my head. “You gave it to me.”
“Did I?”
“As far as everyone else if concerned, yes. You did.”
“Hmm. And what do I get in return for agreeing to be your…benefactor?”
“The answer to your question.”
“No kiss?” he asked, even softer.
“No.”
His lips quirked. “All right, then, waif. I accept your terms. We’ll try the kiss later.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“I pulled at the knot again and heard threads begin to pop.
“Allow me, Miss Jones,” said Armand, right at my back.
There was no gracious way to refuse him. Not with Mrs. Westcliffe there, too.
I exhaled and dropped my arms. I stared at the lotus petals in my painting as the new small twists and tugs of Armand’s hands rocked me back and forth.
Jesse’s music began to reverberate somewhat more sharply than before.
“There,” Armand said, soft near my ear. “Nearly got it.”
“Most kind of you, my lord.” Mrs. Westcliffe’s voice was far more carrying. “Do you not agree, Miss Jones?”
Her tone said I’d better.
“Most kind,” I repeated. For some reason I felt him as a solid warmth behind me, behind all of me, even though only his knuckles made a gentle bumping against my spine.
How blasted long could it take to unravel a knot?
“Yes,” said Chloe unexpectedly. “Lord Armand is always a perfect gentleman, no matter who or what demands his attention.”
“There,” the gentleman said, and at last his hands fell away. The front of the smock sagged loose. I shrugged out of it as fast as I could, wadding it up into a ball.
“Excuse me.” I ducked a curtsy and began my escape to the hamper, but Mrs. Westcliffe cut me short.
“A moment, Miss Jones. We require your presence.”
I turned to face them. Armand was smiling his faint, cool smile. Mrs. Westcliffe looked as if she wished to fix me in some way. I raised a hand instinctively to my hair, trying to press it properly into place.
“You have the honor of being invited to tea at the manor house,” the headmistress said. “To formally meet His Grace.”
“Oh,” I said. “How marvelous.”
I’d rather have a tooth pulled out.
“Indeed. Lord Armand came himself to deliver the invitation.”
“Least I could do,” said Armand. “It wasn’t far. This Saturday, if that’s all right.”
“Um…”
“I am certain Miss Jones will be pleased to cancel any other plans,” said Mrs. Westcliffe.
“This Saturday?” Unlike me, Chloe had not concealed an inch of ground. “Why, Mandy! That’s the day you promised we’d play lawn tennis.”
He cocked a brow at her, and I knew right then that she was lying and that she knew that he knew. She sent him a melting smile.
“Isn’t it, my lord?”
“I must have forgotten,” he said. “Well, but we cannot disappoint the duke, can we?”
“No, indeed,” interjected Mrs. Westcliffe.
“So I suppose you’ll have to come along to the tea instead, Chloe.”
“Very well. If you insist.”
He didn’t insist. He did, however, sweep her a very deep bow and then another to the headmistress. “And you, too, Mrs. Westcliffe. Naturally. The duke always remarks upon your excellent company.”
“Most kind,” she said again, and actually blushed.
Armand looked dead at me. There was that challenge behind his gaze, that one I’d first glimpsed at the train station.
“We find ourselves in harmony, then. I shall see you in a few days, Miss Jones.”
I tightened my fingers into the wad of the smock and forced my lips into an upward curve. He smiled back at me, that cold smile that said plainly he wasn’t duped for a moment.
I did not get a bow.
Jesse was at the hamper when I went to toss in the smock. Before I could, he took it from me, eyes cast downward, no words. Our fingers brushed beneath the cloth.
That fleeting glide of his skin against mine. The sensation of hardened calluses stroking me, tender and rough at once. The sweet, strong pleasure that spiked through me, brief as it was.
That had been on purpose. I was sure of it.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Allow me, Miss Jones,” said Armand, right at my back.
There was no gracious way to refuse him. Not with Mrs. Westcliffe there, too.
I exhaled and dropped my arms. I stared at the lotus petals in my painting as the new small twists and tugs of Armand’s hands rocked me back and forth.
Jesse’s music began to reverberate somewhat more sharply than before.
“There,” Armand said, soft near my ear. “Nearly got it.”
“Most kind of you, my lord.” Mrs. Westcliffe’s voice was far more carrying. “Do you not agree, Miss Jones?”
Her tone said I’d better.
“Most kind,” I repeated. For some reason I felt him as a solid warmth behind me, behind all of me, even though only his knuckles made a gentle bumping against my spine.
How blasted long could it take to unravel a knot?
“Yes,” said Chloe unexpectedly. “Lord Armand is always a perfect gentleman, no matter who or what demands his attention.”
“There,” the gentleman said, and at last his hands fell away. The front of the smock sagged loose. I shrugged out of it as fast as I could, wadding it up into a ball.
“Excuse me.” I ducked a curtsy and began my escape to the hamper, but Mrs. Westcliffe cut me short.
“A moment, Miss Jones. We require your presence.”
I turned to face them. Armand was smiling his faint, cool smile. Mrs. Westcliffe looked as if she wished to fix me in some way. I raised a hand instinctively to my hair, trying to press it properly into place.
“You have the honor of being invited to tea at the manor house,” the headmistress said. “To formally meet His Grace.”
“Oh,” I said. “How marvelous.”
I’d rather have a tooth pulled out.
“Indeed. Lord Armand came himself to deliver the invitation.”
“Least I could do,” said Armand. “It wasn’t far. This Saturday, if that’s all right.”
“Um…”
“I am certain Miss Jones will be pleased to cancel any other plans,” said Mrs. Westcliffe.
“This Saturday?” Unlike me, Chloe had not concealed an inch of ground. “Why, Mandy! That’s the day you promised we’d play lawn tennis.”
He cocked a brow at her, and I knew right then that she was lying and that she knew that he knew. She sent him a melting smile.
“Isn’t it, my lord?”
“I must have forgotten,” he said. “Well, but we cannot disappoint the duke, can we?”
“No, indeed,” interjected Mrs. Westcliffe.
“So I suppose you’ll have to come along to the tea instead, Chloe.”
“Very well. If you insist.”
He didn’t insist. He did, however, sweep her a very deep bow and then another to the headmistress. “And you, too, Mrs. Westcliffe. Naturally. The duke always remarks upon your excellent company.”
“Most kind,” she said again, and actually blushed.
Armand looked dead at me. There was that challenge behind his gaze, that one I’d first glimpsed at the train station.
“We find ourselves in harmony, then. I shall see you in a few days, Miss Jones.”
I tightened my fingers into the wad of the smock and forced my lips into an upward curve. He smiled back at me, that cold smile that said plainly he wasn’t duped for a moment.
I did not get a bow.
Jesse was at the hamper when I went to toss in the smock. Before I could, he took it from me, eyes cast downward, no words. Our fingers brushed beneath the cloth.
That fleeting glide of his skin against mine. The sensation of hardened calluses stroking me, tender and rough at once. The sweet, strong pleasure that spiked through me, brief as it was.
That had been on purpose. I was sure of it.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“nothing helped tea. It simply was what it was, which was boiling hot and flavorless.”
― The Sweetest Dark
― The Sweetest Dark
“What is what?” asked Armand. “I don’t hear anything.”
I hadn’t taken my eyes from Jesse. “There’s more than one. Two at least, right?”
“Two,” he said. “I hear two.”
Armand stood. “Two what?”
I sent him a look. “Zeppelins. Headed this way.”
He stared at us, silent. And really, what could he say? Sorry my father doomed us all? Nice knowing you?
“All right, all right.” I chafed my hands nervously up and down my sides, rumpling the shirt. “I can-I can fly up there. Turn to dragon. Claw them open, make them crash.” Instinctively, I turned to Jesse, almost plaintive. “Can’t I?”
He took up my and. I swear I saw the stars brighten around him, a sparkling, silvered nimbus. “Perhaps.”
“Well, I have to. That’s all there is to it. I have to.”
“No,” burst out Armand. “They have guns! Bombs! They’ll fill you with holes before you can blink!”
“Not if I’m smoke.”
“Smoke can’t tear apart a dirigible!”
― The Sweetest Dark
I hadn’t taken my eyes from Jesse. “There’s more than one. Two at least, right?”
“Two,” he said. “I hear two.”
Armand stood. “Two what?”
I sent him a look. “Zeppelins. Headed this way.”
He stared at us, silent. And really, what could he say? Sorry my father doomed us all? Nice knowing you?
“All right, all right.” I chafed my hands nervously up and down my sides, rumpling the shirt. “I can-I can fly up there. Turn to dragon. Claw them open, make them crash.” Instinctively, I turned to Jesse, almost plaintive. “Can’t I?”
He took up my and. I swear I saw the stars brighten around him, a sparkling, silvered nimbus. “Perhaps.”
“Well, I have to. That’s all there is to it. I have to.”
“No,” burst out Armand. “They have guns! Bombs! They’ll fill you with holes before you can blink!”
“Not if I’m smoke.”
“Smoke can’t tear apart a dirigible!”
― The Sweetest Dark
“I’m spending until dawn with you,” I said firmly. “Don’t bother to argue.”
“God forbid,” said Jesse, solemn.
I pushed past him into the cottage. He’d been waiting up for me, I could tell. There was a book spread facedown upon the table, a pair of lamps lit beside it.
“I thought you said you were resting tonight.
“Aye. I was. But then it occurred to me that the bed wasn’t nearly so comfortable without you. So I got up and hoped.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and dug my toes into the soft nap of the rug. The cottage had been built within a protective circle of birches; even during the heat of the day, it was never very warm.
“You hoped for me?” I asked, uncertain.
Jesse came close, put his arms around me, and buried his face in my hair. “As always. As ever.”
“And I came,” I whispered, closing my eyes, breathing him. The ache behind my forehead began to unbind.
“And you came,” he agreed.
And he summoned the magic that was all his own, beyond stars and starfire. A magic of mortal lips and hands, of bristly new whiskers scraping my chin, of melting kisses that made the whiskers unimportant.
Our bodies entwined, or hearts. Our lives.
I think that was the night a very quiet, very powerful part of me began to comprehend how it was going to be. I think the part of me that was magic, that had broken away from the practical earth to slip along Jesse’s celestial family of stars, to allow them to bind me in their spell…
That part of me knew.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“God forbid,” said Jesse, solemn.
I pushed past him into the cottage. He’d been waiting up for me, I could tell. There was a book spread facedown upon the table, a pair of lamps lit beside it.
“I thought you said you were resting tonight.
“Aye. I was. But then it occurred to me that the bed wasn’t nearly so comfortable without you. So I got up and hoped.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and dug my toes into the soft nap of the rug. The cottage had been built within a protective circle of birches; even during the heat of the day, it was never very warm.
“You hoped for me?” I asked, uncertain.
Jesse came close, put his arms around me, and buried his face in my hair. “As always. As ever.”
“And I came,” I whispered, closing my eyes, breathing him. The ache behind my forehead began to unbind.
“And you came,” he agreed.
And he summoned the magic that was all his own, beyond stars and starfire. A magic of mortal lips and hands, of bristly new whiskers scraping my chin, of melting kisses that made the whiskers unimportant.
Our bodies entwined, or hearts. Our lives.
I think that was the night a very quiet, very powerful part of me began to comprehend how it was going to be. I think the part of me that was magic, that had broken away from the practical earth to slip along Jesse’s celestial family of stars, to allow them to bind me in their spell…
That part of me knew.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Tender creatures, these aristocrats. Who would have guessed?”
― The Sweetest Dark
― The Sweetest Dark
“The duke’s son and the pauper girl. I suppose as a couple we were the most interesting thing in view.
I took the champagne glass from Armand and finished what he hadn’t. As Sophia had said, it wasn’t swill.
So much for my manners.
“Why am I here?” I asked curtly, handing back the empty flute.
“Because I invited you.”
I dropped my voice. “Did you find out anything about Rue?”
“Is that why you came?”
“No, I came because I simply can’t get enough of people looking down their noses at me. The girls at school are getting frightfully lax about it.”
“Are they? How remiss of them. We’re taught from the cradle how to look down our noses, you know, we rich sons of bitches. Perhaps Westcliffe’s curriculum is a tad too liberal these days.”
“Why, yes, my lord,” I said very audibly. “I would enjoy seeing the rest of the boat.”
“The yacht.”
“That, yes.”
― The Sweetest Dark
I took the champagne glass from Armand and finished what he hadn’t. As Sophia had said, it wasn’t swill.
So much for my manners.
“Why am I here?” I asked curtly, handing back the empty flute.
“Because I invited you.”
I dropped my voice. “Did you find out anything about Rue?”
“Is that why you came?”
“No, I came because I simply can’t get enough of people looking down their noses at me. The girls at school are getting frightfully lax about it.”
“Are they? How remiss of them. We’re taught from the cradle how to look down our noses, you know, we rich sons of bitches. Perhaps Westcliffe’s curriculum is a tad too liberal these days.”
“Why, yes, my lord,” I said very audibly. “I would enjoy seeing the rest of the boat.”
“The yacht.”
“That, yes.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Armand needs to see you. He’s had all this time to think things through. He’ll have questions. He’d rather go to you with them than to me.”
“I hardly have answers.”
“Then guess.”
I huffed a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“I am. Either you guess or I do.”
That brought me upright. “You mean, you’ve only been guessing at what you’ve been telling me?”
He gave a grin, folding his arms behind his head. “Not entirely. Sheathe your claws, love. The stars tell me most of it. I hypothesize the rest.”
“You guess.”
“Very well. If that’s the word you want.”
“That was your word.”
“Come back down,” he invited silkily, opening up the blanket again. “It’s cold without you.”
I didn’t, not right away. I fixed him with what I hoped was a steely look, but Jesse was right. Without the shared warmth of our bodies, the grotto rippled with cold after nightfall.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“I hardly have answers.”
“Then guess.”
I huffed a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“I am. Either you guess or I do.”
That brought me upright. “You mean, you’ve only been guessing at what you’ve been telling me?”
He gave a grin, folding his arms behind his head. “Not entirely. Sheathe your claws, love. The stars tell me most of it. I hypothesize the rest.”
“You guess.”
“Very well. If that’s the word you want.”
“That was your word.”
“Come back down,” he invited silkily, opening up the blanket again. “It’s cold without you.”
I didn’t, not right away. I fixed him with what I hoped was a steely look, but Jesse was right. Without the shared warmth of our bodies, the grotto rippled with cold after nightfall.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“You need to get home, both of you. Louis, I’d like to keep the letters here, if you don’t mind. I want to go over them again.”
I came to my feet. “And ask the stars about them?”
Jesse nodded. Armand only shook his head, gloomy. There were bruises under his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday.
“Ask the-fine. Splendid. Keep them if you like. Burn them. Turn them to gold or silver or lead. In the morning I’ll wake up and none of this will have happened.”
“No, lordling,” I said to him. “You’re never going to wake like that again, and you’re never going to be able to forget.”
“Bugger you, waif.”
“And you.”
He walked past both of us without another glance or another word, opened the door, and disappeared into the night.
I went to Jesse and wrapped my arms around him. After only a second’s hesitation, his arms lifted to embrace me, too.
“I don’t want to go,” I whispered.
I felt his chest expand beneath my cheek. “This is going to be much more difficult than I anticipated.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.” He brought a hand to my hair, his fingers weaving through. “Things are about to change rapidly now, Lora. He’ll come back to us stronger and stronger. He’s going to crave you more and more, and not having you will eat him raw.”
I frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”
Jesse tucked a strand behind my ear, his eyes emerald dark, his lashes tipped with candlelight. “It will be in his nature. He’ll feel compelled to claim you, and he won’t stop trying to do that. Ever. When that happens-“
“That is not bloody going to happen.”
“When that happens,” he said again resolutely, “I want you to remember two things. One: I’ve loved you since before he even knew you lived. Two: Spare a little pity for him. This isn’t entirely his fault. He was born into his role, just as you and I were. But, Lora-of-the-moon-only a little pity, all right?”
“My pity may reach as deep and wide as the ocean,” I answered. “But my heart is already claimed.”
To prove it, I clutched his shirt and lifted myself to my toes and brought my lips to his.
Sweeter than raspberry jam, warmer than candle flame, softer than bread.
People often spoke with religious rapture of milk and honey, but if I had nothing but Jesse to consume for the rest of my days, I’d die a heathen beast, content.”
― The Sweetest Dark
I came to my feet. “And ask the stars about them?”
Jesse nodded. Armand only shook his head, gloomy. There were bruises under his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday.
“Ask the-fine. Splendid. Keep them if you like. Burn them. Turn them to gold or silver or lead. In the morning I’ll wake up and none of this will have happened.”
“No, lordling,” I said to him. “You’re never going to wake like that again, and you’re never going to be able to forget.”
“Bugger you, waif.”
“And you.”
He walked past both of us without another glance or another word, opened the door, and disappeared into the night.
I went to Jesse and wrapped my arms around him. After only a second’s hesitation, his arms lifted to embrace me, too.
“I don’t want to go,” I whispered.
I felt his chest expand beneath my cheek. “This is going to be much more difficult than I anticipated.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.” He brought a hand to my hair, his fingers weaving through. “Things are about to change rapidly now, Lora. He’ll come back to us stronger and stronger. He’s going to crave you more and more, and not having you will eat him raw.”
I frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”
Jesse tucked a strand behind my ear, his eyes emerald dark, his lashes tipped with candlelight. “It will be in his nature. He’ll feel compelled to claim you, and he won’t stop trying to do that. Ever. When that happens-“
“That is not bloody going to happen.”
“When that happens,” he said again resolutely, “I want you to remember two things. One: I’ve loved you since before he even knew you lived. Two: Spare a little pity for him. This isn’t entirely his fault. He was born into his role, just as you and I were. But, Lora-of-the-moon-only a little pity, all right?”
“My pity may reach as deep and wide as the ocean,” I answered. “But my heart is already claimed.”
To prove it, I clutched his shirt and lifted myself to my toes and brought my lips to his.
Sweeter than raspberry jam, warmer than candle flame, softer than bread.
People often spoke with religious rapture of milk and honey, but if I had nothing but Jesse to consume for the rest of my days, I’d die a heathen beast, content.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“You are, after all, Armand’s inamorata of the moment.”
I gave up on the titles. “I’m his what?”
“Inamorata. It means lover.”
“I know what it means.”
She took in my face and slanted a smile. “Dear me. Have I offended you?”
“Only by your ignorance. I’m not his lover. I’m not-anyone’s anything.”
“But you could be, if you wished it. If you looked at him the way he looks at you..”
“You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not. Everyone’s noticed.”
“What does it matter to you?” I flashed.
Sophia’s smile faded; she gazed at me thoughtfully. “It matters to Chloe. Isn’t that enough?”
I glanced around the room. Lillian and Stella were watching us from a table by a window, worry etched along their mouths. Mittie and Caroline stood taut nearby. What was their queen bee doing talking to the worker drone?
I smiled back at Sophia, pleased to etch their worry a shade deeper.
“You’re right. It’s enough.”
“I like you, Eleanore,” she said, straightening. “Believe me, I’m just as astonished by that as you are.” She took a couple of steps toward the others, then paused, sending me a pale-blue look from over her shoulder. “But my head is not tiny.”
― The Sweetest Dark
I gave up on the titles. “I’m his what?”
“Inamorata. It means lover.”
“I know what it means.”
She took in my face and slanted a smile. “Dear me. Have I offended you?”
“Only by your ignorance. I’m not his lover. I’m not-anyone’s anything.”
“But you could be, if you wished it. If you looked at him the way he looks at you..”
“You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not. Everyone’s noticed.”
“What does it matter to you?” I flashed.
Sophia’s smile faded; she gazed at me thoughtfully. “It matters to Chloe. Isn’t that enough?”
I glanced around the room. Lillian and Stella were watching us from a table by a window, worry etched along their mouths. Mittie and Caroline stood taut nearby. What was their queen bee doing talking to the worker drone?
I smiled back at Sophia, pleased to etch their worry a shade deeper.
“You’re right. It’s enough.”
“I like you, Eleanore,” she said, straightening. “Believe me, I’m just as astonished by that as you are.” She took a couple of steps toward the others, then paused, sending me a pale-blue look from over her shoulder. “But my head is not tiny.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Don’t allow yourself to waste that chance. Don’t succumb to any…distractions.”
I could only imagine my expression. Miss Swanston lowered her candy-red lashes and glanced back at Armand.
“Oh,” I said, swallowing. “No. Definitely not.”
“Forgive me. He seems quite taken with you.”
The bite of roll lodged in my throat; I coughed. “He isn’t, I assure you.”
“Eleanore, it grieves me to correct you, but he is staring at you even now. He hasn’t been able to tear his eyes from you since we arrived.”
I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t say anything like, Armand doesn’t count. Armand’s not even in the game. I’m in love with a boy made of stars, and we’re going to live together ever after on gold and smoke and moonlight, and that’s my happy future, no matter what any of you think.
I scowled down at my plate. “He’s simply…”
“Yes?” she prompted, very mild.
I searched for the right word. “I don’t know what he is,” I admitted finally, frustrated. “Bored, I suppose.”
“Yes,” she said again, just as mild. “I’m glad you’ve realized it, too.”
“But I’m not dense. He’s nobility. I know-I know what I am. I know what to avoid.”
“Good,” Miss Swanston said once more, and gave me her wistful smile.”
― The Sweetest Dark
I could only imagine my expression. Miss Swanston lowered her candy-red lashes and glanced back at Armand.
“Oh,” I said, swallowing. “No. Definitely not.”
“Forgive me. He seems quite taken with you.”
The bite of roll lodged in my throat; I coughed. “He isn’t, I assure you.”
“Eleanore, it grieves me to correct you, but he is staring at you even now. He hasn’t been able to tear his eyes from you since we arrived.”
I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t say anything like, Armand doesn’t count. Armand’s not even in the game. I’m in love with a boy made of stars, and we’re going to live together ever after on gold and smoke and moonlight, and that’s my happy future, no matter what any of you think.
I scowled down at my plate. “He’s simply…”
“Yes?” she prompted, very mild.
I searched for the right word. “I don’t know what he is,” I admitted finally, frustrated. “Bored, I suppose.”
“Yes,” she said again, just as mild. “I’m glad you’ve realized it, too.”
“But I’m not dense. He’s nobility. I know-I know what I am. I know what to avoid.”
“Good,” Miss Swanston said once more, and gave me her wistful smile.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Bundled in my shawl and uniform, I might have been partaking in any one of Mrs. Westcliffe’s permitted after-supper al fresco activities, like:
Strolling to the edge of the rose garden to admire the sunset.
Strolling to the edge of the orchard to admire the sunset.
Strolling to the edge of the bridge to admire the sunset.
At England’s foremost educational opportunity for young women, strolling to the brink of things was allowed. Leaving the green-plunging beyond brinks-was not.”
― The Sweetest Dark
Strolling to the edge of the rose garden to admire the sunset.
Strolling to the edge of the orchard to admire the sunset.
Strolling to the edge of the bridge to admire the sunset.
At England’s foremost educational opportunity for young women, strolling to the brink of things was allowed. Leaving the green-plunging beyond brinks-was not.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“He had a swift and utterly lucid vision of himself in this position in thirty-odd years. Loathsome tea, hot steam, silver spoon, and fifty-year-old Chloe seated opposite him talking about clothing, because to her it was categorically, absolutely, the most fascinating topic on the planet.
Besides, of course, herself.
For an unflinching instant, Armand wished with his whole heart that he were dead.
Then, at the very edge of his perception, something changed.
He glanced up.
She was passing by the doorway, walking with that fluid, nearly animal grace that no one else seemed to capture or even notice.
He was given four steps of her.
One: She moved from the hallway shadows into the light cast from the parlor. He saw her illuminated, drab colors gone bright; her skin alabaster, reflective; her hair tinted pink and gold and pink again.
Two: Her gaze met his, finding him past all the other people crowded inside the stuffy mirrored room, dying by inches and taking their tea.
Three: He was paralyzed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t smile, couldn’t nod. He was pinned in the gray of her eyes, a prisoner to their piercing clarity.
For an unflinching instant, Armand felt his heart explode like a firework, and the future seemed unwritten.
Then four: Eleanore looked away and passed the doorway. He was stuck with tea and dresses once more.”
― The Sweetest Dark
Besides, of course, herself.
For an unflinching instant, Armand wished with his whole heart that he were dead.
Then, at the very edge of his perception, something changed.
He glanced up.
She was passing by the doorway, walking with that fluid, nearly animal grace that no one else seemed to capture or even notice.
He was given four steps of her.
One: She moved from the hallway shadows into the light cast from the parlor. He saw her illuminated, drab colors gone bright; her skin alabaster, reflective; her hair tinted pink and gold and pink again.
Two: Her gaze met his, finding him past all the other people crowded inside the stuffy mirrored room, dying by inches and taking their tea.
Three: He was paralyzed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t smile, couldn’t nod. He was pinned in the gray of her eyes, a prisoner to their piercing clarity.
For an unflinching instant, Armand felt his heart explode like a firework, and the future seemed unwritten.
Then four: Eleanore looked away and passed the doorway. He was stuck with tea and dresses once more.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“But how…how am I a dragon? How are you a starman?”
“I don’t think of myself as a starman, exactly,” he said soberly, though I sensed he wanted to smile. His hand released mine, the bridge broken; he moved to hang the lantern on a shiny new hook dug into the wall behind us. “I was born here, on earth. Not even far from here, in fact. Just over in Devon. My parents died young, when I was only five. Hastings is my great-uncle and he took me in, and I’ve lived here ever since. But I’ve always known what I am, as far back as I can remember. I’ve always been able to do the things I do. The stars have always spoken to me.”
“And you…speak back to them?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“But not to people.”
“No. Just to Hastings, and to you.”
A shiver took me; I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do the stars say?”
“All manner of things. Amazing things. Secret things. Things great and small, things profound and insignificant. They told me that, throughout time, there’ve been only a scattering of people like me, folk of both flesh and star. That even the whisper of their magic in my blood could annihilate me if I didn’t learn to control it. That I’d crisp to ash without control. Or, worse, crisp someone else.” His smile broke through. “And they told me about you. That you were born and would come to me when the time was right.”
“Did you summon me here?” The muted echo of my voice rebounded against the firefly walls: here-here-here. “To Iverson, I mean?”
…mean-mean-mean…
He didn’t answer at first. He looked at his feet, then walked to the edge of the embankment and squatted down, raking his fingers through the bright water near the toes of his boots.
“We are such stuff as dreams are made on,” he said softly to the water. “Both infinite and finite, human and not. I’m of comet and clay and the sparks of sun across the ocean waves.” He sighed. “I know what it’s like to doubt yourself, to comprehend that you’re so unique you’re forced to wonder about…everything. But, yes, I called you to Iverson.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“I don’t think of myself as a starman, exactly,” he said soberly, though I sensed he wanted to smile. His hand released mine, the bridge broken; he moved to hang the lantern on a shiny new hook dug into the wall behind us. “I was born here, on earth. Not even far from here, in fact. Just over in Devon. My parents died young, when I was only five. Hastings is my great-uncle and he took me in, and I’ve lived here ever since. But I’ve always known what I am, as far back as I can remember. I’ve always been able to do the things I do. The stars have always spoken to me.”
“And you…speak back to them?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“But not to people.”
“No. Just to Hastings, and to you.”
A shiver took me; I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do the stars say?”
“All manner of things. Amazing things. Secret things. Things great and small, things profound and insignificant. They told me that, throughout time, there’ve been only a scattering of people like me, folk of both flesh and star. That even the whisper of their magic in my blood could annihilate me if I didn’t learn to control it. That I’d crisp to ash without control. Or, worse, crisp someone else.” His smile broke through. “And they told me about you. That you were born and would come to me when the time was right.”
“Did you summon me here?” The muted echo of my voice rebounded against the firefly walls: here-here-here. “To Iverson, I mean?”
…mean-mean-mean…
He didn’t answer at first. He looked at his feet, then walked to the edge of the embankment and squatted down, raking his fingers through the bright water near the toes of his boots.
“We are such stuff as dreams are made on,” he said softly to the water. “Both infinite and finite, human and not. I’m of comet and clay and the sparks of sun across the ocean waves.” He sighed. “I know what it’s like to doubt yourself, to comprehend that you’re so unique you’re forced to wonder about…everything. But, yes, I called you to Iverson.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“You called me,” I whispered.
“And you came,” Jesse Holms answered, a green-eyed glance back at me, a half smile that dissolved my bones. Then we were moving hand in hand down the rotting plank stairs.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“And you came,” Jesse Holms answered, a green-eyed glance back at me, a half smile that dissolved my bones. Then we were moving hand in hand down the rotting plank stairs.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Hullo,” he said sleepily, rubbing a hand along his jaw.
He’s here in my room, right in the middle of the afternoon. Great God, there’s a boy in my bed in my room-
I came to life. “Get out!”
He yawned, a lazy yawn, a yawn that clearly indicated he had no intention of leaving. In the moody gray light his body seemed a mere suggestion against the covers, his hair a shaded smudge against the paler lines of his collar and face.
“But I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour up here, and bloody boring it’s been, too. I’ve never known a girl who didn’t keep even mildly wicked reading material hidden somewhere in her bedchamber. I’ve had to pass the time watching the spiders crawl across your ceiling.”
Voices floated up from downstairs, a maids’ conversation about rags and soapy water sounding horribly loud, and horribly close.
I shut the door as gently as I could and pressed my back against it, my mind racing. No lock, no bolt, no key, no way to keep them out if they decided to come up…
Armand shifted a bit, rearranging the pillows behind his shoulders.
I wet my lips. “If this is about the kiss-“
“No.” He gave a slight shrug. “I mean, it wasn’t meant to be. But if you’d like-“
“You can’t be in here!”
“And yet, Eleanor, here I am. You know, I remember this room from when I used to live in the castle as a boy. It was a storage chamber, I believe. All the shabby, cast-off things tossed up here where no one had to look at them.” He stretched out long and lazy again, arms overhead, his shirt pulling tight across his chest. “This mattress really isn’t very comfortable, is it? Hark as a rock. No wonder you’re so ill-tempered.”
Dark power. Compel him to leave.
I was desperate enough to try.
“You must go,” I said. Miraculously, I felt it working. I willed it and it happened, the magic threading through my tone as sly as silk, deceptively subtle. “Now. If anyone sees you, were never here. You never saw me. Go downstairs, and do not mention my name.”
Armand sat up, his gaze abruptly intent. One of the pillows plopped on the floor.
“That was interesting, how your voice just changed. Got all smooth and eerie. I think I have goose bumps. Was that some sort of technique they taught you at the orphanage? Is it useful for begging?”
Blast. I tipped my head back against the wood of the door and clenched my teeth.
“Do you have any idea the trouble I’ll be in if they should find you here? What people will think?”
“Oh, yes. It rather gives me the advantage, doesn’t it?”
“Mrs. Westcliffe will expel me!”
“Nonsense.” He smiled. “All right, probably she will.”
“Just tell me that you want, then!”
His lashes dropped; his smile grew more dry. He ran a hand slowly along a crease of quilt by his thigh.
“All I want,” he said quietly, “is to talk.
“Then pay a call on me later this afternoon,” I hissed.
“No.”
“What, you don’t have the time to tear yourself away from your precious Chloe?”
I hadn’t meant to say that, and, believe me, as soon as the words left my lips I regretted them. They made me sound petty and jealous, and I was certain I was neither.
Reasonably certain.”
― The Sweetest Dark
He’s here in my room, right in the middle of the afternoon. Great God, there’s a boy in my bed in my room-
I came to life. “Get out!”
He yawned, a lazy yawn, a yawn that clearly indicated he had no intention of leaving. In the moody gray light his body seemed a mere suggestion against the covers, his hair a shaded smudge against the paler lines of his collar and face.
“But I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour up here, and bloody boring it’s been, too. I’ve never known a girl who didn’t keep even mildly wicked reading material hidden somewhere in her bedchamber. I’ve had to pass the time watching the spiders crawl across your ceiling.”
Voices floated up from downstairs, a maids’ conversation about rags and soapy water sounding horribly loud, and horribly close.
I shut the door as gently as I could and pressed my back against it, my mind racing. No lock, no bolt, no key, no way to keep them out if they decided to come up…
Armand shifted a bit, rearranging the pillows behind his shoulders.
I wet my lips. “If this is about the kiss-“
“No.” He gave a slight shrug. “I mean, it wasn’t meant to be. But if you’d like-“
“You can’t be in here!”
“And yet, Eleanor, here I am. You know, I remember this room from when I used to live in the castle as a boy. It was a storage chamber, I believe. All the shabby, cast-off things tossed up here where no one had to look at them.” He stretched out long and lazy again, arms overhead, his shirt pulling tight across his chest. “This mattress really isn’t very comfortable, is it? Hark as a rock. No wonder you’re so ill-tempered.”
Dark power. Compel him to leave.
I was desperate enough to try.
“You must go,” I said. Miraculously, I felt it working. I willed it and it happened, the magic threading through my tone as sly as silk, deceptively subtle. “Now. If anyone sees you, were never here. You never saw me. Go downstairs, and do not mention my name.”
Armand sat up, his gaze abruptly intent. One of the pillows plopped on the floor.
“That was interesting, how your voice just changed. Got all smooth and eerie. I think I have goose bumps. Was that some sort of technique they taught you at the orphanage? Is it useful for begging?”
Blast. I tipped my head back against the wood of the door and clenched my teeth.
“Do you have any idea the trouble I’ll be in if they should find you here? What people will think?”
“Oh, yes. It rather gives me the advantage, doesn’t it?”
“Mrs. Westcliffe will expel me!”
“Nonsense.” He smiled. “All right, probably she will.”
“Just tell me that you want, then!”
His lashes dropped; his smile grew more dry. He ran a hand slowly along a crease of quilt by his thigh.
“All I want,” he said quietly, “is to talk.
“Then pay a call on me later this afternoon,” I hissed.
“No.”
“What, you don’t have the time to tear yourself away from your precious Chloe?”
I hadn’t meant to say that, and, believe me, as soon as the words left my lips I regretted them. They made me sound petty and jealous, and I was certain I was neither.
Reasonably certain.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“When her gaze met his, her irises were luminous, pooling bright silvery purple, a definitely inhuman glow.
He’d awoken the beast in her.
Good.
“What are you?” she whispered.
Jesse took a step back to clear his head, to free himself from the tendrils of her sorcery. It’d be easier for both of them if he could think straight.
Right. He needed to focus. He’d waited his lifetime for this moment, but, even so, the words came with difficulty.
It was never painless to bare a soul.
“I am both less than you and more,” he said. “An alchemist, an amalgamation of two opposite realms. I’m the fabric of the stars.”
― The Sweetest Dark
He’d awoken the beast in her.
Good.
“What are you?” she whispered.
Jesse took a step back to clear his head, to free himself from the tendrils of her sorcery. It’d be easier for both of them if he could think straight.
Right. He needed to focus. He’d waited his lifetime for this moment, but, even so, the words came with difficulty.
It was never painless to bare a soul.
“I am both less than you and more,” he said. “An alchemist, an amalgamation of two opposite realms. I’m the fabric of the stars.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Lora, beloved. Lora of the moon and sky. You are a dragon.”
Ah, sighed the fiend, swelling with delight inside me, filled with an awful, awful recognition. Ah, ah! AH!
“That is enough,” I shouted over them both; rather, I tried to shout, but my voice was so strangled it came more as a gasp. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t appreciate your games. I-I came here to tell you to stop pestering me, and leaving me gifts, and smiling at me-“
“You dream of flying,” Jesse said, which cut me off midsentence.
“Aye.” He nodded, shadows and gold, tall and warm and much too near. “I know all about it. I know all about you. You have wings at night. You lift as smoke. And you come to me, don’t you? Always to me.”
I could not reply. I could barely take a breath.
This is a dream, this is all still a dream, it’s just a new part to the dream, that’s all-
“It’s why you’re here now, tonight. You’re drawn to me, as fiercely as I am to you. You didn’t even have to follow my song this time. I muted it, didn’t you notice? And you came anyway.”
For a long, long moment, I gave up on breathing. For a long, long moment, all I heard was my heartbeat and his, and a gull crying miles away, and the distant thunder of a German bomb exploding on innocent ground.
Jesse lifted a hand and placed it on my arm. His palm felt hot against the cotton of my sleeve, his fingers felt firm, and that rush of longing and pleasure that always overtook me at his touch began to build.
“Lora,” he whispered again, so quiet it was barely a sound. “Inhale.”
And when I did, he bent his head to kiss me.”
― The Sweetest Dark
Ah, sighed the fiend, swelling with delight inside me, filled with an awful, awful recognition. Ah, ah! AH!
“That is enough,” I shouted over them both; rather, I tried to shout, but my voice was so strangled it came more as a gasp. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t appreciate your games. I-I came here to tell you to stop pestering me, and leaving me gifts, and smiling at me-“
“You dream of flying,” Jesse said, which cut me off midsentence.
“Aye.” He nodded, shadows and gold, tall and warm and much too near. “I know all about it. I know all about you. You have wings at night. You lift as smoke. And you come to me, don’t you? Always to me.”
I could not reply. I could barely take a breath.
This is a dream, this is all still a dream, it’s just a new part to the dream, that’s all-
“It’s why you’re here now, tonight. You’re drawn to me, as fiercely as I am to you. You didn’t even have to follow my song this time. I muted it, didn’t you notice? And you came anyway.”
For a long, long moment, I gave up on breathing. For a long, long moment, all I heard was my heartbeat and his, and a gull crying miles away, and the distant thunder of a German bomb exploding on innocent ground.
Jesse lifted a hand and placed it on my arm. His palm felt hot against the cotton of my sleeve, his fingers felt firm, and that rush of longing and pleasure that always overtook me at his touch began to build.
“Lora,” he whispered again, so quiet it was barely a sound. “Inhale.”
And when I did, he bent his head to kiss me.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“You’re not human, Eleanore Jones. I think that somewhere inside you, you must know that. You must always have known. You’re not made of ordinary bone or blood but of something else completely.”
“Really. What am I of, then? Kelp and jellyfish, I suppose?”
“You are made of magic.”
He said it in an absolutely unremarkable way, as if instead he’d just said, I had coffee this morning or the floor needs mopping.”
― The Sweetest Dark
“Really. What am I of, then? Kelp and jellyfish, I suppose?”
“You are made of magic.”
He said it in an absolutely unremarkable way, as if instead he’d just said, I had coffee this morning or the floor needs mopping.”
― The Sweetest Dark
