Darkling by Em Petrova Page A

celestials light. It was entrusted to me,
and I dropped it accidentally. I fell to Earth to find it, never believing I’d
come upon it so quickly. But more than that, I never thought I’d find someone
like you, Niles. Someone who makes my body warm right here.” She drew his hand
into hers and pressed it over her heart.
    He fell still, his fingers clasped over her soft mound,
allowing her words to sink into the folds of his brain. She was delusional.
Obviously there was some mental illness or scrambled brains from the heat at
play. No one believed she was a celestial being, let alone a star fallen to
Earth to collect an enchanted dragon scale.
    She searched his face. “It’s true! I know Earthlings don’t
believe in us, but I swear, Niles. I swear on the emotions in my heart for you
that what I’m saying is true.”
    He stretched his lips into a tight line, unable to speak.
What was there to say? She needed help, and knowing this twisted a knife in his
gut. He had no clue what to do with the feelings he had for her. Even if she
got help, would he be able to believe anything she said was true? The first
things she’d told him were lies.
    Clamping a hand on his shoulder, she shook him, but he threw
his legs wide in the stance he commonly fought in. The one that said don’t fuck
with me.
    Her words rasped around her sobs. “Please, Niles. Don’t be
angry with me. I promise this is the truth. I have to take this starscale and
return it with all haste to the elders. If I don’t, I’ll be banished, a fallen
star forever.”
    Part of his love for her shrank into a cold, hard kernel. He
stared at her impassively, resolved to protect himself from her tears and
charms. He’d known her for little time. Easy enough to walk away.
    You’re lying to yourself and you know it.
    Gently he pushed her back a step, fighting to gain his
senses and keep from being overwhelmed by her soft little body and the scent of
jasmine that seemed to cling to her no matter how many showers she took.
    Tears streaked her bronzed cheeks. “Please understand. I
have to go. I don’t have a choice. It’s not about me now, but the lives of my people.”
    When he made no reply, she took a step back, and another,
nodding in understanding. “All right. I see that I’ve misjudged you. I thought
your soul was open to those in need, that there was room for one more.”
    “There is. But there’s got to be some trust and truth
between us.” He could barely force the words around the choking lump in his
throat.
    For a long minute, she stared up at him. The point of her
chin quivered but she didn’t make a sound. Then, very slowly, she lifted the
disc high overhead. Her hood fell when she tipped her face up to the sky,
revealing the glossy black waves he knew so well. He could nearly feel the
slippery texture of the strands.
    Worse—he could nearly taste her. Last night when he’d gone
down between her legs, he’d learned more than honey. He’d tasted her ache to be
loved.
    “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Niles.” Her dark eyes
pinched shut. The air around her started to churn, the twirling currents
spraying him with dust from the alley.
    In a blinding flash, she was gone.
    A humming noise beat his eardrums like winged beasts. He
threw up his hands instinctively against the brilliant strobe of light and
squinted against the glare. An orange negative burst on his retinas and his
nose filled with the burning scent of ozone.
    Frantically he strained to see through the haze of light
that somehow beamed hotly even in the deep shadows between buildings.
    What the—?
    He spun in a slow circle, stunned. Where was she? His mind
scrambled to make sense of what had just happened even as a crushing sense of
loss struck him.
    “Vega!” He ran to the head of the alley, wondering if she’d
somehow rushed past him during that trick of the eye. He would not—could
not—believe her tale of the starscale. And yet, what other explanation was
there for that