The Dark Divine
Page 40

He was wearing the same outfit from earlier--dark indigo jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt I'd given him. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. He stared, unblinking, at the front of his old home.
"Daniel, what are you doing? I've been waiting for you."
"I'm just looking," he said. "I like this house better in blue. Yellow always made me feel like it was rotting inside."
"Where's your coat?" I shivered, wishing I had mine. It was definitely almost December. Daniel didn't answer. His gaze never left the house that used to be his. I sat next to him in the crusty grass and draped part of my blanket over his legs.
Daniel sniffed. "I can't do this."
"Do what?"
"This. Any of this." He took in a deep breath and rested his chin on his knees. His silhouette was white and soft in the moonlight. "I don't know how to be anything other than what I am." He clutched his necklace, almost like he wanted to rip it off. "I don't want to be this anymore."
"Why?" I resisted the urge to touch his face. "You're amazing. The things you can do are out of this world. You're a hero."
"There's nothing heroic about me, Grace. You should know that. Your brother does. It's why he hates me." His hands shook like they had when he was child and he knew he was in trouble.
"What I am ... It's why no one can ever love me."
My heart sank deep. I hated seeing him this way. I turned my gaze to his house. It did look better now. The new owners had added a porch, put up shutters, and painted it a nice robin's-egg blue.
"That's not true. Your mother loves--"
"I don't have a mother."
"What?" I looked at him.
"That woman isn't my mother," he said through clenched teeth. His jaw tightened; the veins in his neck bulged. "Even she didn't want me. She chose him over me."
"Who?"
"My father."
"I thought he skipped town when the sheriff took you away." Daniel snorted. "He didn't stay away for long. He started coming around as soon as I moved to Oak Park with my mom. He kept begging her to take him back. At first she told him to get lost because he wasn't allowed to come near me. But he said he loved her, and she believed him. He said I made him crazy. I made him do the things he did." Daniel rubbed his hand over his head, as if he could still feel the pain of his fractured skull. "One night I overheard her on the phone with my social worker. Mom told him to come get me because she wanted to leave with my dad. She said she didn't want me anymore. She said I was too much for her to handle anyway." Daniel rocked forward and back, smacking his shoulders against the trunk of the tree.
"Daniel, I didn't know." I wanted to sooth his shaking. I put my hand on his chest and smoothed my fingers up his neck. "What did you do?"
"I ran away. I didn't want to go back into foster care.
"But you could have come back to us."
"No, I couldn't," he said. "That beast--my father--was as horrid as they come, and my own mother chose him over me. You wouldn't have wanted me, either. Nobody would have." He cringed, shaking more than ever. "Nobody ever will."
"But / want you, Daniel." I brushed my fingers into his hair. "I've always wanted you." I had to show him that I needed him. I had to do something. I tilted his head toward mine and put my lips on his. He was like stone--stiff and cold--and I wanted to warm him. I moved my lips, and tried to kiss him, but his mouth stayed rigid and he didn't kiss back. I pressed harder. His lips parted, melting, soft. He wrapped his arm around my waist under the blanket, and pulled me onto his lap. His hands slid up my back, over my shoulder blades. The afghan fell to the ground. Then one of Daniel's hands was in my hair, cradling my head. His mouth became warm and fierce. He pulled me hard against his chest, as if he couldn't get me close enough. I'd pictured this moment with Daniel when I was younger. I'd shared a couple of awkward doorstep kisses since then with other guys. But the passion in Daniel's kiss--his mouth searching mine, as if seeking an answer that could save his life--was more than anything I could have ever imagined. The shadows and the winter chill melted away around us. I'd never felt so encircled by warmth. I slid my hands across his shoulders, then up his neck. My fingers tangled with the leather strap of his necklace. I leaned my head back as he trailed his lips down my throat. My heart pounded with the truth I'd been trying to deny--the words I couldn't hold in any longer. Maybe it was the answer he'd been searching for in my kiss.
"Daniel, I lo--"
"Don't," he whispered. His breath was so hot on my neck. "Don't say it, please." But I had to. He needed to know how I felt. I needed him to know,
"I love you."
Daniel shuddered. A low, rumbling growl echoed deep in his throat. "No!" he roared, and pushed me away from him.
I hit the ground, too shocked to speak.
Daniel, on all fours, scurried back a few feet. "No! No!" He clutched at his neck, as if to grab his stone pendant. But it wasn't there. It was in my hand. The leather strap had snapped in my fingers when he thrust me away.
My hands trembled as I held it out to him.
He reached for it, shaking more than I was. Like an earthquake ravaged in his chest. His eyes blazed as bright as two full moons. He grabbed the pendant, squeezing it so tight it would have sliced his hand had it been sharp, and backed away. The light left his eyes. He breathed hard and fast like he'd just run a marathon.
"I can't do this," he panted.
"Daniel?" I crawled toward him.
He backed away even farther. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He jumped as a car pulled up along the curb. He whispered something so low I could barely understand over the sound of the engine.
"It can't be you," I thought he said.
Pete Bradshaw said something as Jude and April got out of the car. A girl's laughter followed. It sounded like Jenny Wilson.
"I can't do it." Daniel retreated into the shadows, still watching the car. "I could never ask." I glanced at Pete as he waved good-bye to Jude and April. When I turned back, Daniel was already gone. You could never ask what?
ALMOST MIDNIGHT
I hid behind the tree while Jude and April sat on the porch swing and said their good-byes. I pulled my legs to my chest and buried my head in my knees. I tried to stop trembling. I tried to stop thinking about that kiss. I tried to stop thinking about Daniel's reaction to my admission--that frightening look in his eyes. Daniel's words played in reverse in my head. / could never ask. I can't do this. I'm no hero. Your brother knows that. What did my brother know?