A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark) by Jocelyn Davies

responded before I was ready. There was something so aggressive, yet gentle, about his sudden forcefulness. So unlike Ian. “You never need to apologize to me.” His green eyes flashed with an intensity I’d never seen in them before. “I know you need your space. And I know that, when you’re ready, you’ll tell me everything.”
    I felt the tears well up in me again, and for a couple of seconds, I couldn’t say a word. Finally I whispered, “Thank you.”
    In another surprise move, he bent and kissed me on the forehead. Something had changed about him while I’d been gone. He was the same Ian, but different. More confident or something. I could still feel his lips on my skin after he pulled away.
    My mouth dropped open as I realized that I liked it.
    “So,” Ian said, letting his hands fall to his sides and standing. He began to busy himself straightening up the Bean. We were the only people there. It must have been after closing already. “Am I the only one who knows you’re here?” I stood and followed him behind the counter as he opened the cash register and counted a stack of bills.
    “Yup,” I said, hoisting myself onto the counter next to him. He double-checked the till to make sure he’d swiped it clean of money, then put the stack of bills down on the counter and ruffled through them nervously.
    “You talk to Cassie?”
    I straightened, fully alert now.
    “She’s awake?” My heart was in my throat.
    Ian smiled—a weary, relieved smile—and for the first time I noticed how tired he looked. Like he’d been through a little bit of hell.
    “She’s awake,” he said. “Bruised and battered, you know. It looks . . .” He coughed. “It looks not so great. But she’s alive. She’s going to be fine.” He nodded, as if confirming this fact to himself.
    “Oh my god,” I said, jumping off the counter and throwing my arms around him. I buried my face in his neck and let the warm scent of cookies and lattes wrap itself around my heart. The comforting scent of home.
    “I don’t know what I’d have done if . . . if she hadn’t . . .” I couldn’t finish.
    “Yeah,” Ian said quietly, running his fingers softly—almost tentatively—through my hair. “She was lucky. We all were.”
    He put his arm around me tighter, and I let the stability of his presence in my life comfort me. He had always been there for me, and he always would be.
    No matter what I did to him. No matter how many times I told him no.
    “Been home yet?” Ian asked, pulling away.
    “Not exactly,” I said with a sheepish smile.
    “Wanna see her?”
    “Yes,” I said, too quickly. “Definitely.”
    “Cool,” he said. “Just give me a few minutes while I close up.”
    Ian went off to the supply room, and I wandered around the coffee shop. The last time I’d seen it so empty was the day after my birthday party, when Cassie, Dan, and I had helped Ian clean up the mess. I shivered as I remembered the bitter cold air that had blown through the broken windows on that gray day.
    As if brought back to that actual moment in time, a chilly breeze brushed my hair into my eyes, and I turned to see where it was coming from. The window in the back was open, the one by the couches that the four of us had sat on that very afternoon, our feet up on the coffee table as we surveyed the work ahead of us. I walked over to close it, but as I did, something caught my eye. Something that stood out against the drab, walked-all-over carpet and worn plush cushions of the couch. A single white feather was blowing lightly in the breeze.
    My heart dropped, and the wind rushed in my ears as my knees gave way. I sat down on the low coffee table, hard. A white feather.
    They’d warned me, hadn’t they? There would be Guardians here.
    And not just Guardians. Devin, too.
    I knew what to expect. But suddenly I wondered if I was ready.
    Falling in love with you was one more thing I couldn’t help . Had he meant those words? How could the Order