Ash stands up, making the boat rock slightly. Tilting his head up to the sky, he lets out a long, low howl. Somewhere from the Legion ghetto, another Darkling howls back at him. Then he sits down.

“What did you say to them?” I ask.

“It’s hard to translate—it’s more an expression of an emotion. I was telling them ‘love.’”

“It must be hard for you, being so close to them and not being able to see them.”

He sighs. “I’m used to it.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“What for? It’s not your fault.”

I prop myself up on my elbow. “Do you miss your Darkling family?”

“I’ve never met them. I’m not even sure they’re alive.”

“Maybe the wall will come down one day and you’ll get to meet them,” I say.

“I doubt it. Besides, even if it did, I’m not sure they’d want to see me. My mom’s family didn’t approve of me.”

“Because you’re a twin-blood?” I say.

He nods. “A lot of them turned their back on Mom when she married my dad.”

“It must’ve been tough growing up in a mixed-race family.”

“Actually, it wasn’t so bad. Our neighbors were mostly tolerant of us, and we had a lot of friends. My dad was one of the few ministers in the city who did both human and Darkling sermons, so my parents were very active in both communities. Obviously that all changed when segregation started.”

He doesn’t need to say any more. Even though I was only a child when segregation began, I remember how quickly friends turned on each other just because they weren’t of the same race.

“You mentioned your parents split up?” I say, remembering his conversation with Martha at the market.

“Yep,” he says, not meeting my eye.

I anxiously play with my watch strap, worried I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Isn’t that a man’s watch?” he asks.

I nod. “My father’s.”

“I’m sorry about your loss,” he says sincerely. “It must’ve been hard for you.”

“I guess.” It doesn’t feel right talking about my grief to Ash, when my father was involved in sending the Darklings to the Barren Lands to die during the war. He was a faithful follower of Purian Rose until he saw the horrors of the concentration camps. That was the turning point for my father. That’s when he flipped sides.

“I remember hearing about it on the news. It was a Darkling attack, wasn’t it?” he continues.

“Yes,” I say, although that’s not the whole story. My voice is raw with pain, even after all this time. “Some would call it poetic justice, I suppose.”

“I suppose. How come you’re so nice to me, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well . . . I’m half Darkling . . .”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I joke, but it falls flat.

Ash puts an arm behind his head, revealing the copper band around his wrist. Shame spills over me, remembering how I gave Martha something similar when we moved here. He covers the bracelet with his sleeve.

We’re silent for a minute, just listening to the Darklings sing. Suddenly he tilts his face toward me and the mood between us shifts. The air becomes still. The time has come to discuss what’s really on our minds. We don’t talk immediately; we just wait for the other to speak first.

“I’m sorry I ran off earlier,” I say.

“Why did you leave?”

“I was startled.”

“Why?” he asks.

I’m suddenly afraid to tell him, in case he thinks I’m crazy, that what I felt wasn’t real.

He props himself up on his elbow. “I felt something.”

“What?” Excitement bubbles up in me.

“I think you know.”

“I thought maybe it was just me.”

“What did you feel?”

“Another heartbeat,” I say, realizing the words sound ridiculous as soon as they escape my lips. What if he’s referring to something else?

But he doesn’t laugh. Instead he lies back down and runs a hand over his face.

“That’s what I felt too.”

“But how? You don’t . . . I mean, twin-bloods . . .” I don’t know how to put this delicately.

“Don’t have a heartbeat?” he finishes.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.”

In the distance the two Darklings continue to sing their beautiful Blood Vow duet, and we quietly listen, enjoying the music. It’s so heartwarming to know they’ve found someone to love. But then Ash sits bolt upright.

“I can’t believe I’ve been so dense!” he says.

“What? What is it?”

“Have you ever heard of the story of Aegus and Zanthina?” he says.

“No,” I say.

Ash points up at the full moon. “According to Darkling legend, the moon goddess Lune and sun god Solis fell in love with each other, but because she was the Night and he was the Day, they weren’t able to have children. So to please his wife, Solis sculpted a boy—Aegus—from the stars.” He points to a constellation made from six stars. I squint, trying to find a pattern in it. “Lune loved Aegus so much, she carved a second heart for her son to make sure he lived forever.”

I smile, although I’m not sure where this is going.

“Aegus was happy at first, but as he got older, he became very lonely. He didn’t want to live forever if it meant wandering alone in the dark, so he tore out his second heart and cast it down to Earth.”

I watch Ash’s mouth as he speaks, mesmerized by the gentle curve of his lips. Concentrate, Natalie!

“As Aegus wept, his tears fell upon the Earth, forming the first oceans. He watched in amazement as a beautiful female slowly rose from the sea, his abandoned heart beating inside her chest. He named her Zanthina, ‘my eternal love.’ Overjoyed, they danced across the stars, their movements forming the galaxies. From that point on, Aegus and Zanthina ensured that every Darkling was born with a dual heart, which triggered whenever they met their Blood Mate as a reminder of their love.”

My eyes open wide. “That’s why a Darkling’s second heart activates? That’s so beautiful. I had no idea.”

Ash cups my face and lightly runs his thumb over my lips. “There’s a reason why I want you to know that story.”

“Why?” I whisper, barely able to concentrate on anything other than his fingers against my skin.

“You’re my Blood Mate.”

The beat of his heart pulses through my veins, and I know it’s true.

“Does it freak you out?” he asks.

I bite my lip. It is a lot to take in. When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t even sure Ash liked me and now he’s telling me we’re Blood Mates. Things are moving so fast, any normal girl would be running for the hills, but the truth is I’m not scared or even that surprised. Being with Ash is as instinctive to me as breathing.

I lace my fingers through his. I’ve been trying to fight my feelings for Ash since we met under the bridge, but there’s no need to pretend anymore. I’m his Blood Mate. That explains the strange way my heart tugs whenever he’s around and the reason I can’t get him out of my head. It’s a relief in many ways, to know what I’m feeling for Ash is more than just a crush, that it’s something beautiful, that we’re destined to be together. Even so, I can’t entirely shift the guilt I feel about being attracted to a Darkling. The notion that humans and Darklings shouldn’t be together has been ingrained in me for years; that’s not going to change overnight. But change has to begin somewhere. At least that’s what my father told me once.

“No, it doesn’t freak me out. Does it bother you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “It seems—”

“Natural?”

He nods.

“But how is it even possible? I’m human,” I say.

“I’m not sure. Maybe because I’m half human, it works differently for me?”

“I don’t suppose it really matters how. I’m just glad it’s happened.”

He beams. “You swear?”

“I swear,” I say.

“So where do we go from here? Nothing’s changed. I’m still a twin-blood—”

“And I’m the Emissary’s daughter.”

“And it’s illegal,” he gently reminds me.

I know we’re playing a dangerous game. If we’re caught, we’ll be executed just like Tom and Jana. Is it worth the risk? Ash strokes my cheek, and my whole body tingles, awakened, alive.

Yes.

“I want to be with you. We just need to be careful,” I say.

“If anyone finds out—”

“They won’t.” I gaze up at him.

His eyes burn with black fire, his lips parting slightly as he leans closer, his breath cool against my cheek. It’s like I’m on the top of a roller coaster, ready to tip over at any second, the anticipation building. Almost . . . almost . . .

Our lips meet. I sigh against his mouth, melting into him as he kisses me hungrily. His heartbeat pounds in my ears; his hands stroke my face, my back. He pulls me toward him, and we both gasp as a powerful jolt sparks between our hearts, opening an invisible channel between us, allowing all his emotions to flow into me: his pleasure, his love, his joy. They flood into my heart until I think it might burst.

The sensation’s too much, and I pull away, my chest heaving. “What was that?”

His lips turn up into a perfect smile. “We were Soul Sharing.”

I throw my arms around his neck and press my lips against his again.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

The sound of Day’s voice pulls us apart. Day and Beetle glower at us from the deck.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say instinctively, although I know it’s a dumb thing to say when we’ve been caught red-handed.

Ash helps me to my feet, and we climb down the stairs.

“It looks like you two were sucking face,” Day says to me.

“So? You don’t get to dictate to me who I kiss,” I say. “Who the hell do you think you are? Purian Rose?”

“He’s a drug dealer; he ruins people’s lives,” Day says.

“It’s not Ash’s fault Beetle would rather be high than be with you,” I snap back.

Day flinches.

“If you’re a true friend, you’ll be happy for me,” I say to her.

“If you were a true friend, you wouldn’t even consider being with Ash,” Day zings back.

Ash steps toward Day. “I’m not taking Natalie away from you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Like you did with Beetle, you mean?” she says.

I roll my eyes. “There’s room in my life for both of you. There’s no need to be jealous.”

She bristles. “I am not jealous—”

“You’re certainly acting that way,” I reply.

“Ash Fisher is a bad influence, a Haze dealer and a jerk,” Day says. “If you go out with him, then we can’t be friends anymore. So who’s it going to be?”

I laugh. “Are you seriously making me choose between you?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Fine. I pick Ash,” I say.

Hurt flashes across her face. I’d feel sorry for her, but I’m just too angry. How dare she give me an ultimatum?

Beetle takes her hand and stares daggers at Ash. “Bro, what are you doing? She’s the Emissary’s daughter!”

“Yeah, so what?” Ash says.

“What’s happened to you, man? First you become a Tracker, and now you’re hooking up with Sentry girls? You know what they called people like you during the war? Collaborators.”

Ash lunges for Beetle. The two of them fall to the deck and wrestle, throwing wild punches at each other. Ash lands a well-aimed blow at Beetle’s face, causing blood to pour out of his nose. He draws his fist back again.

“Ash, stop it!” I plead.

Ash immediately releases Beetle. “Don’t ever fragging call me a collaborator again,” he yells.

Day rushes over to Beetle and tries to stem the bleeding. She glares at me, and I return the hostile look.

“Are you okay?” I ask Ash.

“Yeah, I’m—”

CRASH!

The boat judders wildly. Ash dashes to the tiller, which has been left unmanned during the fight, and steers the boat back on course. When it’s steady, I check the side of the boat for damage. The paintwork’s scuffed, and a few lanterns are smashed, but thankfully, there’s no real harm done.

Beetle takes charge of the tiller, and the rest of us sit in angry silence, not looking at one another. I wish the barge were a steamboat so we could be home already. The sooner I’m off this stupid barge and away from Day, the better. I thought we were true friends, but if she can’t be happy for me and Ash, then clearly I was wrong. The boat finally approaches the mooring, and Beetle turns off the engine. Ash puts on his Tracker jacket, and I’m about to disembark when he grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Something’s wrong. I can sense blood,” he says, his hair stirring.

“Malcolm!” I yell.

I jump off the boat and rush over to the embankment, fear clogging my throat with every step. A figure is slumped on the grass. There’s so much blood . . . just like Truffles . . . just like Father. Malcolm’s clothes have been torn open to reveal a gruesome cavity in his chest. I stifle a scream.