Dark Light of Day (32 page)

“Um,” I started, not wanting to hurt Ivy’s feelings, but also not knowing how to explain my discomfort in baring my décolletage. “It’s very revealing.”

“That’s the point,” Ivy said, making an emphatic gesture. “Can you imagine Ari’s face when he sees you in this? It’s perfect!”

“I can’t. Look, I don’t want to… I don’t celebrate Beltane,” I finished lamely.

But Ivy just snorted. “You don’t celebrate anything.”

“And besides,” I continued as if I hadn’t heard her. “I can’t go with Ari. Remember? He’s opposing counsel.”

Ivy gave me a look that told me she thought all bets were off at Beltane. That the usual rules didn’t apply.

“You can go with me then. Come on, I can’t go with just Fitz. He’s my cousin.”

“I don’t know, Ivy,” I said, torn. The dress was amazing and a part of me wondered what it would be like to wear
something so provocative. There would be nowhere to hide in that dress. Its color meant all eyes would be on me and its cut meant my demon mark would be front and center, for all the world to see. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. I shook my head and hung the dress back in Ivy’s closet.

“I hope you still have the receipt,” I said turning back to Ivy.

She stared at my chest. I realized I’d been self-consciously rubbing my demon mark through my pajama top. As if I could rub it off.

“We all know you have waning magic and the mark to prove it, Noon.”

“Yeah,” I lowered my hand, feigning confusion. “So?”

“So,” Ivy said, exasperated, “you don’t have to hide anymore. You’re out. You declared. It’s time to show off.” She walked over to her closet and took the dress out again. “You’re beautiful. You’re strong.” She walked over and firmly placed the dress on my bed. “This dress is perfect for you.”

I swallowed. With everything else I had to be afraid of, was this dress really something to fear?

I didn’t try it on, but when I put it away, I put it in my closet.

H
ow was dinner last night?” Ari asked.

I was standing on the second floor of Corpus Justica, next to the study carrel I used on the nights when I met Ari. This area of the library was far from the main door and students didn’t usually come back here unless they were looking for something in particular. An unlikely event on any given night since we were in the tithing and tax section. People usually put off a visit here for as long as possible.

Tonight’s quiet was the rule rather than the exception and, in fact, there was an almost complete lack of sound coming from the floor below because most students had packed up and left for the night. It was twenty minutes to close. I’d been packing up and preparing to go when Ari had appeared from behind one of the stacks.

His signature had hit me full force. It seemed stronger than usual and I’d suddenly felt like I’d been scrubbed with sand and doused with salt water. A tingly, burning sensation had raced across me, finally settling densely within the inch square spot of my demon-marked skin.

Skin that was safely covered for now.

“Fine,” I said, my voice higher than it ought to have been.
How did Ari know about my dinner with Peter?

Ari strode over to me, his face expressionless. He had on dark canvas pants and a white cotton shirt. Sometime in early spring he had abandoned the collared shirts he’d worn during winter in favor of short-sleeved shirts like this one. It had made paying attention in class even harder. He reached me and, despite his lack of expression, I could tell he was upset. The tenseness of his muscles and the strength of his signature gave him away.

His lips quirked in a smile, but it offered little true humor.

“You were late getting back.”

I shrugged, torn between guilt about the dinner (and what it had led to) and irritation that Ari thought he had any right to comment. I fiddled with my backpack, not wanting to meet his eyes. Irritation turned to resentment. I shouldn’t have to feel guilty about the fact that I only wanted what I should have had in the first place.

Ari caught the bottom of my chin with his finger and tilted my head up. We stood like that for a few moments, his face inches from mine, his gaze peering into mine, his signature circling mine. And that’s when I noticed. He wasn’t letting his signature meld into mine the way he usually did. I knew then that he wasn’t going to kiss me.

Did he somehow know about Peter’s kiss as well as the dinner? How could he? And so what if he did? It wasn’t as if Ari and I had ever made any promises of exclusivity to one another… Right?

“Anything you want to tell me, Noon?”

“Like what?” I said, turning my head and stepping back.

“Like where you and Peter went after dinner.”

“How do you know I even went to dinner? Or that I went somewhere after? Are you
spying
on me, Ari?”

For a moment, I thought my words might have hurt him, but then his expression darkened.

“I rang your room last night. Ivy told me that you were with Peter. Considering the semester started with two demon attacks, one in your room and one right outside this library, can you blame me for wanting to make sure you made it back safely?”

I blew out my breath. No, of course I couldn’t blame him for that.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to imply… well”—I cleared my throat. “I know you’ve been looking out for me this semester, Ari, and I appreciate it.”

Ari’s eyes widened. “‘Looking out for you,’” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “Is that what you call it? Noon, I’m not just looking out for you. I’m in—”

He shook his head harder and clenched his fist. “And what do you mean, ‘this semester’? As if I’ll feel differently next semester.” He snorted. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

Luck, what wasn’t I afraid of?
I shook my head quickly, but I could tell he didn’t believe me.

“Noon, you’re so skittish sometimes. I don’t want to scare you away.” He reached for me. “But you should know…” One of his hands wrapped around my waist, pressing me close, while the other tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear.

“I want you to stay,” he said in a soft, heartfelt voice. “With me.”

He lowered his mouth to mine and gently bit my bottom lip. “Always.” I gasped and he slid his tongue in, its course slow and wistful. His signature slipped into mine as his hand wound its way through my hair, pulling lightly but firmly, until I was nearly bent back over his arm, with no choice but to yield to him more completely.

After a minute, he raised his head and rested his forehead against mine.

“You know demons choose their mates by marking them with a
signare
.”

I frowned in confusion. “Demons mate for life,” I said, laughing. “Are you telling me we’re married?” I was half-joking, half-terrified.

“Would it be so bad to be married to me, Noon?” he whispered.

I scooted out from under his embrace and backed away. I couldn’t help it. With Peter, I could imagine what marriage would be like—children, Etincelle, endless gardens. With Ari… ?

“Doesn’t a
signare
fade with time?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Why can’t you just answer my questions?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that knowing you had dinner with Peter last night, and then knowing you left with him after… I don’t like it. I wish you hadn’t gone.”

For a moment, I was speechless. Then I shook my head and sputtered, my anger growing by the second. I didn’t even understand my own emotions. One minute I lived in fear of Ari tiring of me, the next I chafed at his possessive streak. I knew I couldn’t have it both ways but, honestly, I couldn’t tell which would destroy me faster—allowing myself to fall completely and irrevocably in love with him or walking away because I thought I still could.

“What right do you have not to like it?” I demanded. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Ari just stared at me, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. My cheeks got hot. The fact was, I owed Ari more than I could ever repay. I lowered my gaze and shuffled my feet. A sure sign of guilt.

“Do you have feelings for Peter?” His voice was harsher. I think he feared my answer. For my part, I couldn’t believe how fast this conversation had led to places I didn’t want to go. Of course I had feelings for Peter. Maybe not the same kind of feelings I had for Ari, but Peter could give me what I wanted.

Ever since we were kids, I knew you were the one for
me… I want to give you your life’s dream, Noon… Promise me, if I find the spell and cast it, that you’ll be mine…

Ari was watching my face closely. What emotions was he picking up in my signature? Guilt? Conflict? Love? Betrayal? I tried to press my magic into a tight, tiny ball but Ari was doing what he did best, getting through my defenses. Without wanting to, I remembered Peter’s face in the moonlight as he bent to kiss me. I remembered wondering what it would be like…

I felt Ari’s magic rush in on me, a searing heat that swirled around and into me, pouring into every crack and crevice. His magic seemed to fill me to the point of bursting. He put his hands on my shoulders and shook me. The look on his face was frightening. It was the first time I had ever seen Ari Carmine fight for control.

“Why Peter?” he said, his voice tortured. “I love you for who you are. He wants to turn you into something you’re not.”

“Something I was meant to be,” I said quickly, turning away. It hurt to see Ari this upset. I removed his hands from my shoulders. “We found the spell.” We both knew what spell I meant.

In the shadows of the library, the lines of Ari’s face appeared deeper and more angular than ever. His eyes glowed like two bits of blown black glass, eerily reflecting the lamplights. He stood still for so long I thought he might have turned to stone. But finally he stepped back, seeming all the more dangerous for the distance. Then he walked out and I let him go, too conflicted to do anything else.

It wasn’t until I was back at Megiddo that I realized he’d said he loved me.

O
n Tuesday, I was so worked up about what Ari had said that I actually skipped Evil Deeds and Council Procedure. I couldn’t bear to face him. And because I couldn’t bear to tell either Ivy or Fitz what I was really upset about, I feigned a sore throat and lay in bed all morning. I knew,
however, that I couldn’t skip Manipulation. I wasn’t nearly as confident in my ability to pass that class as I was with the others. I had made some strides in learning how to shape my magic, but I still lacked the finesse and control of the other Maegesters-in-Training. And my client was proving to be the most difficult. Despite the futility of it, Nergal was still insisting that I spend copious amounts of time researching ways to obtain a divorce, even though I knew none were available absent Lamia’s consent. It made me all the more eager for Peter to finish translating Jonathan Aster’s spell book so I could ditch Manipulation and any further Maegester classes forever.

Despite my serious predicament, I spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready for class. I shaved my legs, gave myself a facial, and even lacquered my nails. It was ridiculous considering the other things I should have been spending my time on. But I couldn’t stop myself. The soothing and scraping, the sloughing and smoothing, all seemed to act as a counterweight to my riotous thoughts. My mind bounced between annulment ideas for Nergal (Would the Demon Council accept some sort of
void ab initio
argument? But, if so, on what grounds?), translation worries (How long would it take Peter to translate Anglentine into the common tongue? How could he be sure the translated spells would work the way they were supposed to?), and Ari’s declaration (He
loved
me?).

By midafternoon I had never looked so well coiffed, so well put together on the outside, nor had I ever been so disastrously frazzled on the inside. My day’s musings had left me a shaking, writhing, twisted mess. I started to doubt my memory. Maybe Ari really hadn’t said he loved me. Maybe I’d just heard him wrong. Or, if he had said it, maybe he didn’t mean it. Or maybe he already regretted it.

I grabbed my backpack and an umbrella. Outside Megiddo, the campus walks were wet with the light drizzle that often fell in Halja before Beltane. Holding the glass door open with my hip, I snapped my umbrella up before leaving, thinking not to ruin my morning’s efforts. Shallow though
they were, they served a purpose. Chin up, I strode down the path toward Rickard Building. I focused on the orderliness of my appearance. Girls with silver coated fingernails and shiny metallic tops didn’t panic when a man said they loved them. Women with glossy hair and rouged lips never felt fear. Halfway to Rickard I lowered my umbrella and let the rain drip over me. It was easier to pretend Ari had never said it then it was to bolster my confidence. I might look beautiful outside but I was still the same inside, a weird gender bender with some seriously nasty, seriously lethal powers. One who could never be given roses for Sweet’s Day. One who could never take a bite of fresh fruit. One who could never go too near a pregnant woman, much less give birth to a child of her own. I chucked the umbrella in a trash can and stomped toward Rickard, not caring that my hair now felt like matted plaster and my rouge was likely gone.

Because it was the end of the day, not many students were still around at Rickard. After classes, students cleared out pretty quick, anxious to get home to the two to three more hours work awaiting them. I rode up in the lift with only the operator for company, dabbing under my eyes with the ends of my sleeves, hoping the rain’s damage wasn’t too extensive. I wrung my hair out and tried to fluff it up as best I could. I desperately wished I had worn another top. The silver now seemed entirely too bright.

When I arrived at the Manipulation classroom, Rochester, Ari, and Tosca were already there. Tosca stared grimly as I walked in the room. Rochester nodded. Ari sat up straighter, his face bearing a look of brief surprise, which settled quickly into a look of general wariness. His signature echoed his outward expressions. His magic had briefly sparked, causing my cheeks to flush, and then his output diminished almost immediately. Now all I could sense from him was weak heat, like the sun during the coldest months of winter. My flushed cheeks turned cold and clammy and I imagined my skin looked quite gray in the pale indoor light of the classroom.