Page 60 of Darkness Defined

The couch groaned in protest as I took a seat. I spared a quick glance toward Alex’s still closed door before settling back and opening the book. It fell automatically to the page with the drawing I’d asked about before. I ran my fingers over the illustration. A faint whiff of something tickled my nose. I inspected the tips of my fingers, then lifted the book. Soft tendrils of lavender curled in my nose and I let out a relaxed sigh. It was strange, though, that it didn’t hold the typical “book” smell, given how old it was. I couldn’t help but wonder why.

With a shrug, I let the mystery go and considered the virtually ancient book. Alex might be able to pick up wherever he wanted, but I actually wanted to see what this thing was about. I flipped back to the front of the book. Alex’s name greeted me in his perfectly swirled letters. Before I could succumb to the temptation to trace the elegant curves, I turned the page and started reading.

My family had been fighting the darkness for as long as I could remember. Since the day the night had taken form, we had struggled to beat it back. But the darkness was all-consuming and the battle fraught with temptation. What was one soldier in an infinite war against evil? Against Darkness?

I ’twas but seven when I met my first shade. The creature stepped from the void onto our family’s land. The shock of being so brazenly approached blazed through my young body, an insult to life itself. Even at such a tender age, I knew what my response should have been. This thing was a monstrosity and yet my hand was stayed. Mayhaps the creature had spelled me to forestall its demise. It mattered not. The torches came, and it fled back to the depths that had spawned it.

Thus began my crusade to ultimately capture and destroy darkness defined. I was a man obsessed. The night itself had touched me and I would not be at peace until I hunted it down once and for all. This was my destiny.

“Storm, wake you up too?”

My entire body jerked. I looked up from the book, hoping like hell guilt wasn’t plastered on my face. Alex stood just outside his room, the door open behind him, looking all kinds of disheveled. “Yeah,” I replied noncommittally.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, causing it to stick up in every direction. There was another roll of thunder and suddenly he was standing there soaked from head to toe, water dripping from his hair to puddle on the carpet.

I blinked, and the vision was gone. “What?”

“I said, do you want anything?”

I shook my head, not trusting words, then swallowed and returned to my stolen reading material. In the kitchen, I heard the faucet as he fixed something to drink. When I glanced back up, it looked like he was trying to figure out where to sit. I scooted over and gestured at the couch.

“Just sit down, Alex. It’s only weird if you make it weird,” I said, keeping my nose firmly in the book. I squeezed my eyes shut. Ugh, I was such a hypocrite. I was making it weird.

He didn’t say anything as he sat down with his water and another book.

I’d seen him notice my reading choice, but he’d yet to comment on it. Despite my dedicated effort to resume reading, the words blurred together. I couldn’t focus. Alex certainly qualified as a distraction, although maybe not the best one, considering. It didn’t matter. If Alex was here, I wanted to talk to him. That he actually seemed interested in what I had to say was one of my favorite things about our friendship. It was nice to feel like I had a valid opinion.

“Do you think he knows he’s in love?”

Alex looked up from his own reading with a completely neutral expression.

“In the diary,” I elaborated, holding up the book with my finger in it to hold my place. “Do you think he knows?”

His face relaxed, and he set his book down. “You tell me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, someone put notes in the margins about what they thought. It could’ve been the author or someone else who knew the situation.“.

“I haven’t seen anything.” I reopened the book, and he leaned over to get a better look at where I was.

“Oh, that’s because you haven’t gone far enough. It starts showing up everywhere.” He made to turn the pages.

“Wait, I don’t want to lose my place.”

He frowned, then leaned across me to grab the notebook that was still lying there. The distinct aroma of lavender floated up to curl in my nose. He tore out a page and handed it to me before sitting back. I stared at him and he got fidgety. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I—”

“You smell like lavender.”

He blinked, clearly not expecting the comment, then scooted back to his corner to retrieve his own book. “Yeah... I had trouble sleeping when we moved to England, so my mom started putting sachets of lavender under my pillow. I guess I just kept it going. Anyway, you’ll eventually see handwritten notes. Full warning, I don’t agree with most of them.” His smile felt a little forced, but I wasn’t really paying attention. If the book smelled like lavender because Alex did, that meant he probably slept with it… regularly.

I looked down at my hands curled possessively around the book. The thin piece of paper sticking out was a stark white in contrast to the aged binding. With a force of will, I loosened my grip. “This is about a Shadow Demon. That’s why it’s your favorite.”

His mouth twitched with the start of a smile that didn’t fully form, then he looked away. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Does he kill her?” I didn’t want to read any book where that was the outcome, especially one that read like a love story.

He lifted an eyebrow. “That would ruin the ending, now, wouldn’t it?”