Chapter 29 Astra
TWENTY-NINE
Astra
Okay, so maybe I tonight I didn’t get to live out Halloween like a kid, going door-to-door and yelling “trick or treat” while I hold open a sack for candy, but so far, it’s been amazing.
Donovan informed me that most everything shuts down after dinner time, but that doesn’t mean the whole city goes quiet.
The middle of the city is alive with people and noise.
It has an old-time feel to it as kids run around and play silly games.
I’m tempted by the bobbing for apples barrels, but I don’t want to get my hair all wet.
It took me hours to get it pinned back and rolled up so it will stay under the hat.
Honestly, my heart is about to explode just from the feelings around me. I let them in. I soak them up.
As we walk, I grab a few candy bars that are held out in my direction. It seems like everyone is getting candy today, even the adults. I’m certainly not going to argue. I unwrap a snack-sized chocolate bar and put the whole thing in my mouth. I moan as it melts over my tongue.
“Sorry,” I say to Donovan. “I should have let you have half.”
He stops right there in the middle of the blocked-off street and turns to face me.
There are people everywhere, but with our posse of bodyguards, it’s almost like we’re in our own little bubble.
I don’t look the least bit surprised when he cups my chin and drags my face closer to his.
Nor am I shocked when he licks along the seam of my lips.
And when I open for him, I’m most definitely expecting it when his tongue to slip inside and roll over mine.
He groans lightly as he pulls away. His eyes are clouded with lust, and I might need a new set of undies.
A child’s far-off squeal of joy snaps me back into reality, and I can’t help but let my head fall back as I laugh.
“How about… we get your face painted?” I playfully suggest when I see a teenager dressed up as a fairy working on putting a unicorn on a little girl’s cheek.
The kid is trying so hard to sit still, but she’s having a hard time.
Her pumpkin costume is absolutely precious.
When I glance up at Donovan, he’s glowering down at me.
So far, this has been the best night.
I slip my hand into his and try not to laugh when he stares down at where we are now joined with a look of sheer confusion on his face.
“It’s called holding hands,” I tell him as I lean my head on his shoulder. “I’ve never done it before, and seeing as it might be my last night here on earth,” yes, I’m laying it on thick with the dramatics, “I think you should indulge me.”
He snorts and looks forward. His eyes scan the area, but I get the sense it’s more out of habit than there being an active threat.
I know he doesn’t usually go out with an army of bodyguards, so he’s probably used to watching his own back.
Now that I think about it, I might see if he’ll make the change to add more security for himself once we make it through this night.
And I’m really pushing for us to make it.
“Can we get a candy apple?” Fabien asks.
The light in his eyes is infectious. I love how he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looks at Donovan and then Andre for an answer.
He’s wearing the most adorable steampunk alchemist outfit.
I have a feeling he’s had it for a while, and it definitely looks like something custom-made.
“Oh, yes!” I say, jerking Donovan to the left, all prepared to drag him to the candy apple stand if I have to.
Donovan huffs, but doesn’t try to stand his ground.
The hunched-over witch—the dressed-up kind—hands us two candy apples with a crazy smile that I have a feeling she spent some time perfecting. This is so fun.
Since there’s no delicate way to eat this massive thing, Fabien and I dive in, both of us trying to outdo the other with the biggest first bite.
Of course we are the only ones dumb enough to do this who aren’t under twelve.
We end up a sticky mess, but we’re laughing so much I don’t even care how ridiculous I look.
I can see this weird, distorted future in my head.
One where Fabien and I are good friends.
Maybe we do brunch at the house every weekend.
And I can see myself dragging Andre around when I have to go shopping, and him pretending not to be paying attention to anything I’m looking at.
I see Torrin at the house for breakfast nearly every morning, and him bringing Donovan home safe in the evenings.
And of course I see myself right there at Donovan’s side.
Right before the sun starts to fade, we head for the center of the square.
Buckets full of drawing chalk are scattered about.
I find a bright pink stick while Fabien searches until he finds a yellow one.
Sets of brightly-colored eye-shaped pairs decorate the old brick street.
We find a space. The street is warm under me and it feels me with a sense of home for some reason.
Fabien sits across from me, ready to get to work.
I’m glad I have him tonight. Glad I have someone who understands how much the Shadow Dance means.
I take my time drawing my set of eyes, making sure they are filled in perfectly. Fabien seems to be doing the same.
“For my mom,” I say, suddenly feeling choked up.
I know she loved me and I loved her, but I wish I could remember what it was like to spend time with her.
Remember what it was like to be loved by her.
To laugh with her. To dance under the Shadow Moon with her.
“I don’t know if she’s found her way home, but I dance for her every year.
If she hasn’t, I really hope this year is the year. ”
I let out a wet laugh as I duck my head.
“I’ll dance for her tonight, too,” Fabien tells me, and when I look, he’s sending me a sad smile.
“Thank you,” I say as I get to my feet.
I shake off the less-than-happy mood as I swap my pink stick for a sky blue one and find another free spot. I don’t know who I’m drawing these eyes for, but that’s okay. There are plenty of lost souls out there to dance for.
“When I’m gone, will you dance for me?” I ask Fabien. He’s now right beside me, his leg pressed against mine.
“Don’t…” he whispers. His hand covers mine, and I let my head fall against his shoulder. “Don’t say that. There’s still time. There’s—”
He cuts himself off as a quick gust of wind swirls around us.
“Just promise me you’ll dance for me, please.”
“Okay,” he says softly. “I promise.”
I force a smile, shake it off, and stand up. I reach down and pull him up, too.
My attention is drawn to the group of kids running toward us.
I chuckle at the one dressed up like a duck.
He’s got to be about ten. He’s holding the hand of a younger kid who looks to be dressed up as a farmer.
I think it’s super cute. Another one of the kids is dressed up like a clown, but like a creepy one with a knife, and my skin begins to crawl.
We hand off our chalk to the kids before heading back toward Donovan and the group.
The two bodyguards who’d been closer to us as we made our marks for the ceremony fall in line behind us as we walk.
When I get close to Donovan, he pulls me into his body and ducks his head. He whispers “You okay?” into my ear, and I hold back the tears as I nod.
I don’t want tonight to be sad.
I want to go out like a firework, not drowning in a river of my own tears.
“It’s a shame there’s no haunted house,” I say. I could really use a scare right now to snap me out of my thoughts.
“No,” Donovan says, sounding nearly deadly.
“But—”
“No,” he says again, this time he pins me with a look. “I can’t keep you safe in one of those.”
“Oh,” I say with a smile.
“And I don’t like the idea of them.”
“What I’m hearing is you’re scared,” I tease.
“No, I didn’t say that.”
Torrin snorts behind us.
“They have one on the outskirts of the city,” Torrin says, stepping between us and giving me his attention.
“It’s huge, and the production quality is amazing.
We went when we were… what? Fifteen?” He spares a glance at Donovan, who looks like a pouting child.
“Donovan punched a guy holding a chainsaw, and then tried to fight all the actors who came to the guy’s rescue.
To be fair, they were all dressed up and rushing at him.
Anyway, we got kicked out and he’s never gone near a haunted house since. ”
I’m laughing so hard tears are filling my eyes. The image of Donovan still being a badass even when he is scared is too great.
“He came around the corner and nearly touched me with that damn chainsaw. The broken nose was justifiable,” Donovan grumbles, and I laugh harder.
“It wasn’t even real!” Torrin says, throwing his hands up.
“Go away,” Donovan says, but if I’m not mistaken, there’s laughter in his eyes when he looks at his friend.
Torrin bows, his horns sliding up on his head a bit, and retreats to the back of the group.
As the night wears on, the Halloween festivities in the area fade, and there is an obvious change in the energy. Jack-O-Lantern lights are snuffed out, leaving their husks dark and hollow. Lights all around are dimmed, and everyone gathers around the middle of the square.
My eyes are focused on the elders from all three covens as they come together in unity to light the massive lanterns on the south side of the square.
The huge wooden beams holding them up are wrapped in places by intricately curled iron.
At first glance, the lanterns don’t seem like much of a big deal, but if you look too long, they kind of resemble hanging cages big enough to hold a few humans each.
It’s a little eerie. And if I didn’t know they’d never actually held anyone, I’d be worried for what’s to come.
My body floods with a feeling of familiarity, but this time, a memory comes along with it.
I’m holding my mom’s hand. I can almost feel it, the memory is so vivid.
Music starts up from somewhere in the distance. Flutes and violins. Their melody is light and lifting.
I close my eyes as Fabien grabs my hand.
An image of my mother comes to the forefront of my mind as my hips begin to move.
She’s there.
She’s there, burning bright in the middle of a memory. Wetness builds up in my eyes, but I’m smiling.
“Astra,” Donovan whispers in my ear. The concern in his voice is apparent, and I’m such a wreck of emotions that it sends me over the edge. Tears leak out despite my effort to keep them trapped behind my closed lids.
“I’m fine,” I assure him in a choked whisper. “I remember her. She had brown eyes like mine, and her skin was slightly darker than my own. She was beautiful.”
Her smile is radiant in my memory, telling me her beauty wasn’t only skin deep. She was a good person. She loved me. She helped anyone who crossed her path in need.
Donovan’s knuckles brush against my free hand. Next thing I know, his fingers are sliding between the spaces of mine as our palms become pressed together. I swallow thickly and somehow manage to smile harder.
“Go dance,” he tells me. His tone is tender, and when he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, I fall a little harder for him.
Blinking back the tears, I look up at him.
It’s right on the tip of my tongue to tell him those three little words with a big meaning.
He’s staring down at me like he’s ready to hang on to every word I say.
But I chicken out. I keep those words trapped behind a smile because I don’t want to do anything to ruin this night.
It’s not like I’m asking him to love me back, but most people assume they have to respond with the same kind of confession of affection.
I just have this urge to let him know how I feel.
That’s all. Maybe I’ll get another chance later. Or maybe it’ll die with me.
I shrug the thought off as Fabien drags me away, and I don’t let go of Donovan’s hand until I’m forced to.
It’s time to dance for the souls who’ve lost their way.
If I’m going out tonight, this is the best way to go.