Shadow's Kiss (Monstrous Hearts: Fleur's Story)

Chapter Sixteen

"You've been doing this since your aunt left."

Fleur blinked at her monitors, the haze of concentration evaporating beneath the unusually grim tone to Dario's words. When she paused the game and turned to look, she found him leaning against the doorway. Despite the casual pose, he watched her carefully.

She tried to think of a response that was longer than a shrug. "Doing what?"

"Hiding in a game or through sleep." Then he stepped inside her room, prowling around it to eye the dirty bowls and plates smeared with leftover casserole. "I thought giving you space would help, but it hasn't."

"Yeah, when was Fiona here? Yesterday?"

He stopped beside her. "Two days ago. Tonight is the party."

Her nerves spiked at the mere mention of it, piercing the numb haze she had willed herself into. She refocused on the game, shoulders hunching as she tried not to think of the night ahead.

He noticed. "There. What is that?"

"One of the Touhou games. It's a bullet hell, which means you have to kill enemies while dodging their constant projectiles."

"No. Your reaction. As soon as your aunt left, you shrank deep into yourself and won't re-emerge." When she shrugged, he moved over to where Prosy slept on her chair, his expression still serious.

Before he could pick the cat up, Fleur did it herself, clutching Prosy close despite the irritated yowl she got in return. As Prosy settled her head against her arm, more interested in sleeping than fighting free, Fleur tried to ignore how sick she felt. In silence, she watched him sit beside her. He looked as hot as ever, back in his black racerback tank and jeans, but she was too miserable to enjoy the sight.

When he raised his eyebrows at her, making it clear he wasn't about to leave without an answer, she grimaced and hugged Prosy closer. "I don't like going to parties. Or waiting. It makes me nervous when something is looming ahead and there's nothing I can do about it, so I try to stop thinking at all."

After a moment, he said, "I can sense passion, not thoughts. I don't know what's wrong. Why you're angry at this party and yourself."

She didn't have to answer him. Half of her didn't want to. "I just hate people, that's all. And I don't like myself any better."

Since she was staring down at Prosy's striped head, she couldn't see his expression but heard him smother a frustrated sigh. His next words held their usual smoothness. "We have something else to talk about. I need to feed soon."

Prosy's tail flicked with irritation as Fleur's fingers involuntarily tightened against the cat's fur. She didn't want to talk about that, either. Her glimpses of the supernatural world had been enough to understand its brutal hunger. Witches killed to eat. It scared her, the thought of seeing Dario devour raw flesh in a frenzy like the figures in her nightmares.

And a small part of her realized that the more she liked him, the deeper her fear ran. She wasn't like her sister, who could hold her own against monsters with ease; she was a coward who didn't know how to deal with her own needs, let alone an inhuman creature's.

At last, she said, "Can it wait until after the party? I really want only one thing to panic about at a time."

Silence fell between them, but she could tell he didn't like her answer. He rubbed at the dark stubble on his jaw and then looked directly at her. "We need to understand each other."

When she only turned back to her monitors, feeling another swell of nausea, he tried again. "I can't tell if you're uncomfortable because you know too much about me or too little. I don't know what your sister, a witch, has explained about the world hiding among yours."