Some Quiet Place

of his head. Me, his feelings, any shred of hope. “If it comforts you, I would feel sorry if I could.”

“Shut up, Elizabeth,” he says, breathing heavily. He takes two quick steps and he’s suddenly there, too close and too demanding. He grasps my shoulders, so impassioned that he doesn’t realize his fingers are biting into me. The hurt boy is gone, leaving a heated man in his place. I study this new creature, his blazing green eyes, that ridiculous long hair.

“Joshua—”

“You feel,” he tells me through his teeth. “I know you do. You cried at Maggie’s funeral. You were afraid when that man attacked you in the parking lot that night. You painted that mural … for what? Because everyone else expected you to? No. Because you wanted to.”

I’m shaking my head, but he’ll have none of it. Making a sound of frustration deep in his throat, Joshua pulls me against him. Before I can react, he’s pressing his lips to mine for the first time. He’s a little clumsy, uncertain. But then his warm hands slide from my shoulders to my waist, cupping the small of my back, and he relaxes. I close my eyes, instinctively kissing him back.

Even irate, Joshua is infinitely tender, holding me so close I find it hard to breathe. Thinking to shove him away, I flatten my palms to his chest. Unrelenting, he pushes me against the wall and presses closer. My mouth opens to his, and our kiss deepens. He tastes a little like the sweet corn he must have had for supper. His arms are stronger than I’d realized, refusing me escape, challenging. Wishing everything was this simple, I keep kissing him, but somehow, someway, someone else slips into my thoughts. Someone with an infuriating smirk and silky white hair …

When Joshua pulls back, I’m unprepared. A small gasp slips out, and at the sound Joshua grins, a slow, warm grin. “Elizabeth,” he says. “Don’t you get it? I’m not playing games. I don’t expect anything. I love you.”

The simple words spark something inside me. I’ve heard them before, but it’s different this time. I freeze in his arms, carefully analyzing the strange sensation deep inside me.

“You … ” I take a breath, struggling to regain my analytical way of thinking. Joshua won’t let me; he kisses me again, catching me by surprise.

“Yes, I love you,” he says. His breathing is more ragged than mine. The Emotion herself shimmers into existence, touching his cheek before leaving us alone again.

I swallow. I can’t say the words back. Because I yearn to say them to someone else. The realization isn’t a blow—it’s been waiting, just beneath the surface. And it means more pain for Joshua, more guilt for myself. No one can have their happy endings.

“You don’t even know my real name,” is all I mumble to Joshua in response.

He presses his forehead against mine, inhaling my scent, seeming to savor it. “Then tell me.”

I hesitate for just an instant before whispering, “Rebecca. Rebecca James.”

“Rebecca. It’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” I allow his touch, ignoring the instinct to pull away. This is the last time he’ll ever hold me like this, and I stay to give him memories of his own.

Joshua and I stand there for a few minutes—minutes that feel like peaceful years—just two people in a barn, alone, together, separate and apart, yet one. A human and … something nonhuman. Love and nothing. Love and everything.

A noise nearby. I lift my head. I should pull away. I should leave. But I don’t.

The boy in my arms notes the alert movement. He rubs a thumb across my lower lip, smiling. Then, softly, softly, Joshua says the words: “Just you and me, Rebecca.”

There’s an instant of silence, and I can feel the illusion trembling. Then there’s the sound of thunder all around me, something breaking into a million pieces.

Whoosh.

The wall collapses.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

I remember. I remember it all, this time. And with the remembering comes the rush, the waterfall, the shrieking earthquake of feeling. Joshua disappears as the world crumbles. Emotions surround me, murmuring in wonder, touching me everywhere. I fight them, making sounds that don’t even sound human. Their faces crowd in, bright and dark, hideous and beautiful. As their skin makes contact, my eyes roll back in my head, the room around me fading into fuzzy shadows. I want to laugh, I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to pound my fists, I want to tear my hair out, I want to throw up my arms and dance and dance until I’m too dizzy to dance anymore and fall to the ground.

And in the midst of it all, the memory of one face presses in, filling every corner of my being. Just you and me, Rebecca.

Elizabeth is gone. I am completely Rebecca James once again. And I know what I am. Daughter, sister, lover … Element. I’m a hybrid. A half-blood. Haven’t you noticed that people are drawn to you? I know why now. And I know why Nightmare wanted to find my father. Because my father’s blood is the most precious, the greatest addiction, the highest power, the ultimate nectar. Blood that runs through my veins, making me only half human.

Life.

And I couldn’t even use it to save my twin. “No!” I scream, tears streaming down my face. “I don’t want to remember! Take it away, please, take it away!”

“Too late for that,” a voice says, close by. “Back off, all of you. I know it’s exciting, but she shouldn’t have to deal with it all at once.”

“Rebecca, Rebecca,” the Emotions are saying over and over again, still touching me. My twin and I used to join their parties all the time, intoxicate them with a single touch. Life—that’s what I am. Why, then, do I crave death? I feel hands in my hair, on my shoulders, on my back, on my legs, my feet, my cheeks, my stomach. Their touch, their essences gush through me, bursting out of my pores, oozing through every part of my body.

“Get away from me!” I scream, wild-eyed, thrusting my arms out. Power rushes through every part of my body, making me tremble all over. The gust is so strong that the Emotions all around are thrown back. Many of them vanish. Others gaze at me in awe, standing a safe distance from me. I’m barely aware of any of it. I crumple into a ball, weeping.

I remember him. Everything. I remember his smile, his pensive tones, the way his eyes twinkled, every moment of every day we spent together.

His words, his companionship, his love—gone. All of it, gone.

My brother. My twin. I sink into a black hole of despair.

“Landon.”

Twenty-Four

I stand in the middle of Elizabeth’s room.

I gaze at the walls, the mural I’ll never finish. Green everywhere, trees and light and mystery. My eyes fall on me and Landon. I take in the silent anguish, my arms embracing death. It’s the thousandth time I’ve seen the image—through flashes of memory, through dreams—but now it means more. So much more. That was the moment I denied the blood running through my veins. What was the point of being Life if I couldn’t use it to bring my brother back?

Something wet falls to the wooden floor, the sound like a crash all around me. I look down, see the drop of water. I touch my cheek. I’m crying.

That’s when I realize I’m no longer alone. Someone stands behind me, someone with gentle fingers as they rest on my shoulder. I turn and meet Sorrow’s bottomless eyes. He doesn’t say a word, and as always, he’s crying, too. There’s nothing to say. We grieve together for a few moments before the Emotion fades into nothing, leaving his essence as a token. As the salty taste in my mouth.

It’s being in this room. It’s thinking of him. It’s Sorrow’s brief presence. But suddenly I can hear his voice— something I’ve done everything to avoid—in my head, warm and alive.

Just you and me, Rebecca. We’ll be travelers. We’ll see everything and no one will tell us what