Chapter 9 #2
My fear intensified, even though I reminded myself that I was here, in the Labyrinth, possibly the most protected place in the entire realm, and I wasn’t alone in this barn no matter what it felt like.
It was just my mind filling in the blanks with every shadow I saw on the floor or the walls—and I even forced a smile on my face to try to tell myself that I was okay.
Then something hit the floor with a loud thud not two feet behind me, and every second in my body left me in a rush. I didn’t scream only because my vocal cords were frozen.
A monster was in front of me.
All of a sudden, the fear disappeared and my arms rose, and I began to look around for something to use as a weapon.
Whatever this thing with the square head was, I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
The place, the game, everything fell away and my instincts were suddenly sharp as knives, and I had only one thought in my head—fight.
Then the monster spoke.
“Time’s Trousers—I was this close!”
The monster had Reggie’s voice, too.
Everything suddenly came to a halt. I blinked and my arms lowered and I breathed deeply while the monster moved—reached his normal-sized hands up to his large square head, and…took it off.
Then stepped away from the shadows and into the light.
“Reggie.” It was Reggie holding some sort of tin box in his hands—the same box he’d had on his head.
“I had everything prepared. I was going to give you a good scare, then laugh for the rest of the night at how you screamed—but then this thing!” And he kicked something made of metal, a square piece I couldn’t identify, but it must have been whatever fell to the floor a moment ago that made me turn.
I closed my eyes. Brought my fingers to the bridge of my nose. Tried not to laugh—I really did.
But when he threw the tin box away at the nearest pile, Reggie looked so pissed. His hands were on his hips, his foot tapping the floor, his cheeks red—he looked absolutely ridiculous.
My laughter echoed in the tall ceiling even though I was still slightly shaking from the sudden spike of adrenaline in my body. Time’s Teeth, I’d been so scared. A miracle I hadn’t screamed—a true miracle.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved his hand at me and turned. “I’ll search this side, you search that.” And he walked away to the other side of the junkyard, leaving me alone.
Not a monster. That’s because there were no monsters here—I was inside the Labyrinth.
I sighed, shook my head at myself, and the fear didn’t return.
Not when the image of Reggie’s face as he pouted kept replaying in front of my eyes.
I was going to burst out laughing soon, too, but I went near one of the largest piles of metal in the entire junkyard, when suddenly something grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the side hard.
Once again, my vocal cords froze. My entire body froze, and I hardly even felt the metal edges on the pile I was shoved against digging into my back.
Red and brown eyes in front of me.
Hands on the sides of my face.
“Did I scare you?”
March’s whisper melted every inch of ice that had suddenly covered me on the inside. Speaking was out of the question still, but I somehow managed to nod.
“I did?” Closer and closer he came, and I was holding onto something made of metal behind me for dear life… “I’ll just have to make it up to you then.”
And he kissed me.
No, I didn’t expect it. I did not see it coming that he would kiss me here, in the junkyard, when all the others were somewhere around us. I did not expect to be kissed at all, but here he was.
Soft lips on mine. His hands held onto my face like it was something fragile, sensitive, like I might break if he handled me too hard.
But I thought I would if he didn’t.
Something came over me—something wild and hot and all-consuming, and I was no longer against the pile of metal, but my arms had wrapped around his neck tightly. I was standing on my tiptoes, too, my chest pressed against his arms as he held me still.
We stayed like that for a good moment, lost completely in each other, the junkyard and all the other Hands forgotten.
Then March let go of my lips, let go of my face.
I made to move back thinking he wanted to step away, too, but then his arm snaked around my waist harder than when we’d danced, and his hand wrapped around the back of my head.
He held me there a second, breathing heavily.
He looked at my lips with bloodshot eyes, and he could have been hungry and desperate and in complete bliss all at once.
“March,” I whispered, just because it felt right to say his name while it was etching itself in my bones all over again.
The moment the word left my lips, he slammed his against mine.
I’d kissed before—the same boy, three separate times. I’d been younger then, a proper teenager, but I remembered it well enough to know it hadn’t been like this. Not even close.
The feelings in my chest when March kissed my upper lip, then the bottom one, then took it between his teeth a little bit, were brand new and ancient at the same time.
I surrendered completely even before his tongue came out, wet and warm and soft, and licked my bottom lip like it was covered in his favorite icing.
A small moan escaped him, and it was like he pressed a button on me somewhere, a button that turned on the heat of my body, made my blood rush, my heart gallop.
Then his tongue was in my mouth, and the world no longer existed.
He kissed me like he was starved his whole life, and I was no different.
I had been starved, in fact—for this. For the taste of him, the feel of him.
It should be impossible to feel a kiss so deep inside me, but I felt him everywhere.
The harder he pulled me against his chest, the more I wanted to get under his skin all the way.
My hands were in his hair—finally. I grabbed fistfuls of it, pulled and caressed to my heart’s desire while March moved us—I didn’t care where. He moved us back and then there was only darkness behind my closed lids, and I still didn’t care one bit.
His hands moved, too, down my back and to my ass.
He grabbed me and pulled me against himself harder, and his erection pressed against my stomach like it was begging for me.
The wet sound our tongues made while they tasted each other, and the sound of our lips and teeth when we sucked and bit were otherworldly.
The heat between my legs burned me. Scorched me. Demanded more.
With every new inch of me March touched, I understood my body better. With every new part of him I reached when I slipped my hands underneath the collar of his shirt, I wanted to understand his body just as well as mine.
Then somebody shouted from the other side of the junkyard— “Hey! Where’d she go?!”
It was Reggie.
We let go and stepped back at the same time, completely disoriented, lost to the sensation still.
March had pulled us to the corner where barely any light came through, but I still saw the glistening of his bloodshot eyes.
I still felt the rhythm of his breath, and I knew his heart beat the same as mine.
Footsteps—and Reggie wasn’t alone as he came closer.
A smile on my burning lips as I touched them, surprised to find no flames on my skin.
“Well? Did you expect it?” March said, and I heard the grin in his voice even though he sounded breathless.
“Not at all, Heartling. Well done,” I said when I caught enough air in my lungs.
By then the sound of Reggie’s footsteps said he was just around the nearest pile, so I moved on instinct, stepped away from the shadows and into the light just as they saw us.
“There you a—wait.”
Reggie looked at March, then at me, then back at Seth standing next to him. “Do you see that?” His brows shot up. “Holy Hour, did you two just make out?!”
Sparetime save me, I was going to die of embarrassment.
“You’re a dickhead, you know that?” March said, chuckling, and I did the best thing I knew how to do—I practically ran to the other side of the junkyard.
“Gotcha! I gotcha!” Reggie called at the top of his lungs and laughed his heart out, and Seth had joined him, too.
My cheeks were flushed—my whole body must have been red. My heart shook me with every beat, too, but I was smiling. I felt like my feet were gliding over the floor, and the world was so big, and the junkyard was no longer scary in the least.
That’s why, when Mimi jumped in front of me from behind a large device—arms raised, screaming—I only laughed.
I didn’t stop running, slammed onto her instead, and we spun around a few times before we let go of one another again.
I had yet to understand who this person I’d suddenly become was, but it felt like a veil had been lifted from my eyes and I could finally breathe easy here.
Whatever this was, I continued to hope it never ended.
The others came out of their hiding spots soon, bored to have to wait longer than a few minutes to be found, and it suited me—right until they started hi-fiving me, grinning and winking, because of course Reggie told everyone about March and me.
Believe it or not, I was far less embarrassed than I would have thought.
We decided to stay a little longer, though, considered three o’clock to be the perfect time to call it a night so we could get some rest before the next day.
Two, fifty-five found us going through a particularly interesting pile of devices because all the items discarded there seemed to be old. Very old.
A handheld disc layered with rings that no longer turned, the symbols etched on the sides half blackened, and when you tilted it to the right, it emitted this faint ticking that didn’t really match any rhythm at all. Nobody had the slightest clue to what it could have been used for.
Then there was what Russ called a pendulum rig meant to measure the timing, rhythm and precision of a certain movement, depending on what it was being used for.
It had two upright posts with a heavy metal pendulum suspended between them, its swing stiff and uneven, the metal of it completely rusted.
A box full of mismatched gears was near it, and this shallow wooden crate full of small and chipped and warped things that looked too fragile to even touch. Not a single one matched the other.
Bundles of frayed ropes with knots at no specific intervals, and dented bell stands that held tarnished bells of different shapes and sizes—and you could just tell they had years on them by the way they were constructed, the lack of precision on the metal lines, the rust on the nails, the outdated way they’d mounted the gears.
Old, but all of this had been functional at one point.
“Time to go, everyone. Wrap it up,” Silas said, and he was right. My eyes were burning and my energy levels were low. I needed sleep, I really did.
The others were already moving toward the lantern, exhausted, dragging their feet—except for March, who was still crouched over on the other side, looking intently at something.
It had been hours since we’d shared that kiss, yet my lips still felt like they were burning.
At this point I was convinced that the sensation would never-ever-reven go away—and I was glad for it.
That’s why, when I forced all that embarrassment off my shoulders and went closer to him, I was twelve-hours certain my freckles were completely invisible.
“Time to go, Heartling,” I said, and maybe it was just me, but even my voice sounded different when I spoke to him. Curiouser and curiouser.
“I wish I could take this with,” he said instead, his eyes still on whatever he’d seen down there at the bottom of the pile, so I had no choice but to go closer, to lean down and see.
It was the shape of a heart, bigger than my head, attached to whatever metal device was underneath all the junk they’d put over it.
It had gears and cogs of all sizes that fit perfectly together, and I had no idea what it was, what it could have served for, but it was impressive.
Every single circle, every shape, every nail was placed exactly right inside the heart mold, and it was also in near-perfect condition.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered—and it really was. I’d never quite seen anything like it, not even close.
“It would have made a beautiful gift,” March said. “But it’s connected to whatever machinery is under here.” He slammed a hand against it, and the metal roared like a living thing.
“I think I can help with that,” I said, biting on my lower lip as I analyzed the shapes, the curves and the edges.
“Help how?” March said.
“Hey! C’mon, guys—it’s time to go!” Seth called from the middle of the junkyard, and we both jumped to our feet.
“You’ll see,” I told March and made to go to the others.
He grabbed my hand and stopped me, turning me to him again. Smiled in a new way, a different way I hadn’t seen before.
“What?” I breathed because his gaze was too intense, way too much for my poor heart.
“The next time I kiss you, you’ll see it coming.” He raised my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Let’s go.”
When I made it to my room, I finally opened my sketchbook and drew—the mechanical heart March had liked so much. I thought maybe I could show it to him later, and if he liked it, he could have it, since he couldn’t take the real one with him out of the junkyard.
That night, and the one after it, I was convinced that nothing—nothing in the world could touch me.
I’d come to this place expecting nothing more than somewhere to be, away from home, away from heartache, away from memories.
I’d found so much more, and I had a hard time imagining anything happening to take away this pure joy I felt in every waking second.
Then came the first trial.