Desire: #4 Brightest Kind of Darkness (10 page)

Just as the speedometer hits one-fifteen, the pressure on my foot loosens and he answers,
Stop being stubborn and refusing to accept me. You’ll soon learn I’m equally obstinate.

I bark out a harsh laugh.
Then find someone with less of a backbone
. A few minutes later, I slow down to turn into the hardware store’s parking lot. Parking, I shut the engine off.
I’ll be happy to see you gone.

No one else comes with Nara.

I freeze in the process of opening my car door. My fingers dig into the handle, the hard piece creaking under my hold as a cold chill slides down my back.
What the hell does that mean?

Silence.

She is mine, you egotistical, oversized bird.
I don’t like that he’s not answering.
Stay the hell away from her.

His throaty, assured laugh floats through my head.
Can you?

A territorial growl erupts from my lips.
She is not, nor will she ever be
yours
.

You are unworthy,
he says
.

Rage builds inside me. I’m about to let loose all the obscenities I’ve been holding back, when he says,
We both are.

He sounded resigned to that fact. I’m silent as I walk inside the hardware store. At least that’s one thing we both agree on.
I love her,
I say, subdued by his honesty.

Her lightness is addictive
. I don’t reply. I’m not even sure if that last comment was the Corvus’ thought or mine. One thing I know for certain; I have to learn how to block him from listening in, from reacting, and from fucking taking over.

You can’t keep her from me
, the Corvus says, his tone building in conceited assurance.
Her light always finds a way through.

His smugness sends a jolt of jealousy ripping straight through me, gnawing at my gut. Nara says he’s a spirit, but she doesn’t know he’s the one who sped up my car this morning. The fact he can take over against my will infuriates and terrifies me. He’s put Nara at risk before when he pulled her into my dreams so she could face down Fate against her father. I refuse to let him do it again. Ignoring his last comment, I turn a corner to head down the aisle where I’d left Samson browsing.

With two books in one arm and a third in his other hand, my brother lifts his blond head. “It’s a good thing I take forever to decide. Is Nara okay? You went really pale.” He pauses and stares at me oddly. “I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

Apparently I’d been too freaked out over Nara’s safety to keep my Corvus speed in check. I shove my hands in my jean pockets and nod, keeping my tone low-key. “She’s good. Someone tried to break into her house recently, so I worry about her even with the new security system.”

As I skim over the do-it-yourself home improvement books and magazines lining the shelves in front of my brother, an idea sparks and I give the Corvus a final warning.
If you don’t stay the hell out of my head and out of my way, I’ll find a way to shut you up permanently.

There has got to be books on mental exercises I can try that’ll help me learn to block him from my mind. After I drop Samson off at home, I’ll head to the bookstore, then finish my Christmas shopping. There’s just one more purchase I hadn’t anticipated having to make so soon, but at least I found a place that can handle last minute requests.

Chapter Six

Nara

I’m in the process of hanging the last piece of mistletoe over the kitchen doorway when the bay garage door begins to open. Houdini raises his head from his bed in the living room and barks once, but I tell him to settle and scramble off the stepladder to put it away.

Heart racing, I pick up the bloody knife from the floor, rinse it off in the sink, then slide it into the dishwasher rack.

My hands shake as I retrieve the dustpan and broom, but I tell myself to stay focused on my task. A fine sheen of sweat coats my face while I frantically try to sweep up all the pieces of broken glass. The glass makes
chink-chink
sounds, sliding off the pan into the trash a split-second before the kitchen door opens.

“You’re cleaning?” Mom says in surprise as she walks in carrying two big bags of groceries.

I push the trashcan into the closet, then set the hand broom and dustpan back under the sink. “I
do
do that every once in a while without being asked.”

Mom raises her eyebrow and I smile. At least we’re talking. “Need some help?”

“Yes, there are two more bags in my car.”

As Mom and I unload the groceries, I’m surprised to see a roast. “You’re making pot roast?” I ask, setting the meat in the fridge.

Mom puts the potatoes, carrots and celery into the crisper. Sliding the bin shut, she says, “I thought we’d try something different.”

“The pine scent plug-in wasn’t enough?”

Houdini walking into the kitchen sets the thing off, and a spritz of strong pine fills the air.

Mom’s brow creases. “Too much?”

Houdini sneezes three times, and they’re wet sneezes too. I snicker at the look of disgust on Mom’s face before she quickly moves to the wall and unplugs the unit.

I pat Houdini on the head, murmuring, “It’s okay now, boy. The torture is over.”

A worried look crosses Mom’s face. “What happened to Houdini’s ear?”

“I don’t know. He took off after those rabbits, and it was torn when he came back.”

Mom frowns. “Keep an eye on it and keep it clean. The vet might need to see it.”

“I will.”

Setting the plugin on the counter, Mom sighs. “I was just trying to make it a Christmas to remember.”

“It will be, Mom. We’re celebrating it together. That’s all that matters.”

She gives me a genuine smile for the first time since this morning. I smile back and grab an empty paper bag off the counter. The whole thing with Drake’s demon earlier could’ve gone in a very bad direction. What if something had happened to me before I could tell Mom about Dad? Would she believe him without me around to prove that his ability did exist back then? Mom needs to know the truth. I begin to fold the bag into itself and say, “We need to talk about this morning.”

Mom had started to fold another bag on the other side of the island. She stops folding and meets my gaze, tension in her grip on the brown paper. “How long have you been talking to your father, Inara?”

“Yesterday was only the second day I’ve talked to him.”

Her face relaxes a little. “Did he contact you?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly. “But technically he only contacted me to warn me.”

“Warn you?” Mom’s eyes widen in alarm. “About what?”

I set the bag down and move around the island to stand in front of her. “I want to talk to you about him.”

Her lips press together and she jerks her head back and forth. “I don’t want to discuss your father, Inara. We were talking about you.”

“But this
is
about me, Mom. And it’s about Dad and what he talked to me about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dad…has this ability.”

“Oh, that?” Mom waves her hand. “I already know.”

Disbelief rolls through me. “You do?”

Grabbing the bag I hadn’t finished folding, she folds it. She turns around and slides it beside the others under the sink, then says, “I knew he had some kind of gift, but I wasn’t sure how it worked.”

I blink several times. I can’t believe it. All this time…she knew? “Why didn’t you ask him about it?”

Mom shrugs. “It didn’t matter to me. And honestly, I didn’t want to know. It’s not like I could share the experience with him.”

“But you could’ve made him feel like he was normal, regardless.”
Or at least made me feel that way.

She sets her hands on her hips, her face creasing in defensive lines. “Are you implying that your father leaving is my fault? That’s what you’re leading up to, right? You’re going to tell me why he left?”

“Dad didn’t blame you. At all.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have! He’s the one who took off without a word, remember?”

“I don’t need a reminder, Mom,” I say, adopting her defensive tone.

When her back stiffens, I take a deep breath to try to calm myself. “Actually, I was going to show you some videos he left for me, instead. I think they’ll help you understand better.”

She clamps her lips together for a second. “I don’t want to see them.”

“Why?”

Mom unbuttons her jacket and takes it off. She’s getting ready to go upstairs and change into more comfortable clothes…and also end our conversation. The fact she’s preparing to walk away ticks me off. “I can’t believe you’ve known all along that Dad had an ability.” I’m shaking so hard I have to grab the counter to steady myself.

“Inara, why are you so upset?”

“Because
I
developed the same ability and had to go through it alone, Mom. I didn’t tell you because I thought you wouldn’t understand. That you might think I was a freak. Why in the world would you intentionally keep that peace of mind from me?”

Tears start to trickle down her cheeks as I’m spewing out my anger.

Mom walks over and cups my face. “Oh, sweetheart. When I saw some of your father’s tendencies starting to shine through not long after you started elementary school, I did try to talk to you about it.”

I shake my head. “No, you didn’t.”

Her gaze searches mine. “Yes, I did. I tried to tell you that you were special, and you got very upset with me. You didn’t want to be different. You didn’t like that I pointed it out.”

I blink at her a couple of times. “I did?”

She nods. “I think the last thing you wanted to hear is that you weren’t the same as other kids, so I didn’t say anything else about it. When you grew older, you were just so together and self-assured, I thought I’d made the right decision.”

“That’s because I had to be.”
I thought I was all alone
. “I didn’t have anyone to confide in. No one that understood.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Mom offers a sad smile. “Though I don’t know how much good I would’ve been to you. I never really could’ve understood, because I’m just plain old me. No special abilities here.”

I snort at the utter incongruity of our viewpoints. We’re like opposite ends of a magnet finally brought together but unable to align. I’m still hurt that she chose not to ask me about it once I grew up. Apparently we both should’ve been more open with our thoughts. “Maybe now that you’re not afraid to discuss it, you can talk to Dad—”

“Afraid?” She shakes her head. “I was never afraid.”

I throw my hands out. “The point is you didn’t ask Dad about it. You didn’t want to know. And I can tell by your expression that you still don’t. Don’t you understand that I needed you and you weren’t there?”

“I said I’m sorry—” She goes still and her shoulders stiffen. “Are you trying to say your father left because of his ability? And you blame me for not asking him about it?”

“I’m not blaming you for Dad, at all, but I do think you should’ve asked. He left because he had to. Not because he wanted to. Nothing you said would’ve changed that.”

Mom pales slightly, like that’s the last thing she wanted to hear, then her face settles in determined lines. “No, Inara. He
could’ve
stayed. If he left because of his ability, he should’ve trusted me enough to tell me about it. The fact that he never did is the very reason I don’t want to see those videos. Whatever that truth was,
he
should’ve shared it. Nothing can change that he didn’t trust in our love enough to weather the storm.”

It wasn’t just about you. It was about keeping me safe too.
I open my mouth to say this, but then I close it. Her last comments are eerily similar to the things I said to Ethan about us working together as a team; at least the underlying gist of trust and partnership is the same. I guess I’m more like her than I realize.

Ethan thanking me this morning for trusting him enough to go into that icy water pops into my head. Mom and Dad must get to that level of trust. Somehow they need to find common ground. I’m not really sure what I want for my parents. They’ve been apart for so long, I don’t know if they’re the same people they once were, but I want to give them a chance to find out if they still belong together. I want the one thing that kept them apart, my father’s ability, laid in front of Mom so she can’t ignore it anymore. Granted, Mom doesn’t know all the facts yet, nor is she ready to hear them either, but as I’ve seen with Ethan, an open mind can be the key to an open heart.