Wes shoved him back, and Brenik took hold of Wes’s shirt. Bray was pulling at Brenik’s arm again to stop him. With a little too much force, he shoved her back as hard as he could. He needed her to leave him alone for a minute.
A loud crack reverberated in the room and Brenik turned around, releasing Wes’s shirt. When he looked down, it wasn’t Bray he had pushed back, it was Luca. The tiny kid lay on the floor next to the coffee table, knocked out cold. Something about his still body wasn’t right. Then Brenik realized it. The kid was dead—there was blood on the edge of the table where his little head had struck.
No one said anything. No one moved an inch, until Bray cried, “No!”
Wes ran forward, shoving Bray softly to the side as he pulled Luca into his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.
Brenik stood there frozen in pain for what he had done to the small child. A kid he wasn’t sure if he even liked, but had developed a slight fondness for. He felt—he felt sickened. It should have been me instead.
Bray looked at Brenik. He found no trace of anger on her face, only genuine hurt as tears rained down her face. “Brenik, why do you have to be so selfish all the time? Why do you have to destroy everything that’s good?” Her voice sounded lost and heartbroken. It reminded him of losing Ruth—it had him thinking about leaving Junah. But most of all, it had him wishing he had never existed.
The decisions he made had been wrong—choices he thought would help himself. He didn’t care about himself anymore. Brenik only wanted Bray to be happy, and if he lived a second longer, he would destroy anything good that could happen for her.
Brenik grabbed the portrait from the couch and ran to the kitchen. Despite the anxiousness he felt as he ripped open the silverware drawer, there was a contentment there, too. He pulled out the largest knife he could find while holding up the canvas to the light. Without any more hesitation, he didn’t just stab the portrait—he hacked at it with fury, with loathing, with hate, with despair, with emptiness, and with love for his sister—who was always his protector. Who he now wanted to protect. Everything about himself he wanted gone.
“What are you doing?” A shrill voice he thought was Bray’s pulsed in his ears. But he felt dizzy and everything was moving in slow motion. His knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor.
A harsh pain charged through him, and his body stiffened. He rolled to his back as a heart-shaped face hovered over his, similar to his own. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, and his voice cracked on the last word as tears welled in his eyes. He could feel all the cuts he inflicted on the portrait appearing on him, and he wished he didn’t deserve it.
“We’ll fix this. I promise we’ll fix it,” she said in a hushed tone, her hands trying to cover up all the cuts pouring out blood. There was no way to fix all the gashes. He could feel them peeling apart, some tearing open all the way to the bone.
“Take him, Bray. Take Luca to the Stone.” Brenik pushed the words out.
“And you.” She tried to lift his upper body but couldn’t.
“No. Just him.” He could feel his body already drifting away, coming to the end of his story.
Bray stroked her thumb across his forehead. “I love you, little brother.”
“I know.” He loved her, too, because she was the better half of him. The last thing he heard was Brayora’s mad screams, the last thing he felt was her slapping his chest to live, the last thing he saw was her sorrowful face, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be happy—even if he had already destroyed everything.
24
Bray
Bray hovered over Brenik’s still form—his body was covered in bloody gashes as if someone had torn at his skin. She wanted to sew the pieces shut, but it was too late. His body began to disintegrate into dirt, the same way Rana’s had. Bray let the dirt crumble from her hands and stared up at the painting on the countertop, which had turned into soil, too.
Her body shook as she looked over her shoulder at Wes. He still held Luca’s lifeless body in his lap, tears slipping down to his little brother’s small face.
What Brenik had said about the Stone of Desire suddenly clicked in her head. “We have to leave now,” she said hurriedly. “You will have to drive through the forest quickly.”
Tearing his eyes from Luca, Wes asked, “What do you mean?”
“No questions. I’ll hold Luca and give you directions from the backseat, but you need to get us to the Stone of Desire before it’s too late.” Bray didn’t know if anything could be done, but if it could… She didn’t want to hope too much.
Wes still looked as if he wanted to ask questions, but he had Luca in his arms and was already headed for the door. Bray gazed one more time with regret at what was left of Brenik, and for the first time, she left him behind.
Bray got into the backseat of the car, and Wes tenderly lay Luca’s body in her arms. Blood seeped from the wound, and she wished she could close it somehow—like she wished she could have done for Brenik.
“This is all my fault,” Wes cried as he hurled himself into the car.
Bray didn’t say anything. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, just a series of bad choices, and an accident that wasn’t meant to have happened.
Holding Luca pressed tightly against her chest, Bray rambled off directions at Wes. He drove as fast as he could through the trees, but not as quickly as they wanted.
“Stop!” Bray yelled, and Wes slammed on the brakes. She could see the Stone’s white shape protruding past the bushes.
Throwing open the door, Bray started to lift Luca, but Wes gently took him in his arms.
Bray knew Wes was confused about what she was trying to do, but there wasn’t much time, if any at all. She ran for the Stone and placed her hand against the alabaster, rose-shaped top. “Please. Please, answer me this time.” There wasn’t a response. “Wes, hurry and put your hand on the stone.”
Without a word, Wes pressed his hand against the rock and continued to hold Luca in his arms. Bray shook her head frantically at Wes to ask the Stone what he desired, and so he did. “I—I need you to save Luca. He means everything in this world to me, and I can’t live without him. Please don’t let him die—please bring him back to me.” His voice sounded weak and drained, barely making it through his words.
The breaths in Bray’s chest were coming out shakily, and she couldn’t find enough air as they waited for something to happen. But nothing did.
“Please! You’re the cause of this for what you did to Brenik. So please, make this right!” She slapped at the Stone, full of exasperation.
Under her feet, the chunks of dirt began to shake, causing her to stumble backward. With Luca still firmly pressed against his chest, Wes stepped back beside her with fear in his eyes.
Out of the ground, the rest of the pale rock pulled itself up to incredible height, long arms drawing forward.
Black eyes inside a bald white head pushed out of its shell. The creature who she thanked so many times before for helping them, she now wished had never answered her the first time.
Its head didn’t come in her direction—it moved toward Wes. “What is it you desire, human?” Although there wasn’t a mouth, they both still heard the pounding words inside their skulls.
“My brother… Can you save him?” Wes asked with plea in every single one of those words.
The Stone leaned closer toward Luca, tilting its head, as if sniffing at the small boy’s scent. “I can.”
Sighing deeply, Wes’s shoulders relaxed a little. However, Bray’s did not because she remembered what had happened with Rana. The Stone had said he could save her, too, but she had already been something less than human. Maybe this was different. They had to try.
The Stone’s hand dragged toward them, and Bray nudged Wes forward so he could lay Luca’s body into the palm of its hand.
Like before with Rana, it closed its fingers around Luca’s fragile body. It pulled its hand back to whatever darkness, or light—
or combination—could perform the task.
They waited and waited until the Stone’s hand slowly pushed back out. Each of the fingers blossomed to reveal Luca still lying motionless in the center of the Stone’s palm.
Bray’s chest sank with disappointment, and a fierce tension built a wall around her. She couldn’t look at Wes anymore, who still had hope written all over his face.
“His body was too late to save,” the Stone rasped loudly. Even though his voice rumbled inside her head, Bray felt the sadness surrounding it.
Crashing to his knees, Wes smacked his hands against his forehead and gripped his hair.
The Stone inched closer. “This was always meant to happen. He will return. When your world is ending”—its head shifted to Bray—“he will be the only one possessing the power to grant passage for mankind into your old world.” Was it talking about Laith?
“What are you talking about?” Bray demanded. “What do you mean he will return?” She needed direct answers, not the riddled explanations that were never complete.
“You will know.”
How will I know? she thought.
“When will he come back?” Wes asked. “Where is he now?” Luca still wasn’t moving.
“I could not save his body, but I could save his soul. The soul is now split between the two of you. He will be reborn.”
Wes seemed unable to grasp or understand what the Stone was saying. He picked up Luca’s body and stared at him, begging Luca to wake up.
“What do you mean reborn? When? How?” Wes asked, looking down at Luca and then up in the direction of the Stone. But the Stone was already curling back into its natural form, no longer willing to give any more answers.
They watched as the Stone sank back into the ground. All that was left was the large alabaster-colored slab with a rose-shaped top.
“I don’t understand.” Wes cradled Luca as he moved beside her.
Bray let out a sorrowful sigh. “His soul is split inside me and you.”
“I heard that.” He may have heard it, but he was still confused. She, however, understood it perfectly.
“He will be reborn, but in order to be reborn, it will have to be between you and me. As in, Luca will be starting over as a baby.” She closed her eyes and let the words sink in. Then she flicked them back open to see Wes’s horrified face.
“What the hell? So, that thing put half of Luca’s soul in my dick, and I have to have sex with you to recreate Luca? How’s that even the same thing? He still wouldn’t be him—he wouldn’t even look the same, and you’re not even human!” he shouted.
Her stomach dropped at those harsh words, but Wes had every right to say them. This was her fault for bringing Brenik here. This was her fault for wanting to use the gift that the Stone had given her. This was her fault for getting close to these two humans, and this was her fault for not trying to help Brenik more. She had never hated herself before, but at that moment she did.
“I know, it’s all my fault,” she murmured. She wouldn’t say sorry, because sorry couldn’t even begin to fix what had happened.
Without one more look at the little beast, or Wes—who made her feel something more than unworthy—Bray changed forms and hurried through the air to get back to her tree, where she would stay to suffer.
The tree was still a disaster inside from Brenik’s earlier desperation, and Bray chose to leave it that way. Day after day, she slept on the floor and would only come out to eat.
Eventually, she decided she was going to find somewhere else to live. It felt as if months had gone by, but it had only been nine days.
Wes hadn’t spoken to her, but she had heard the engine of his work truck or car when he would leave to go somewhere.
Rolling to her back on the floor, Bray stared up at her and Brenik’s words on the ceiling. Each day she had carved a new word into the wood: selfish, lost, hate, missed, broken, insanity, misunderstood, heart, longing, and Hook.
The sound of the back gate opening and closing radiated into the tree, but Bray didn’t move. Even when the branches groaned and the vibrations could be felt through her wooden cell, she stayed perfectly still.
Bray turned to her side away from the hole. She didn’t want to see Wes.
Something poked her back, and she turned around to find a large folded piece of paper. She looked toward the outside and didn’t see anyone there.
She wanted to throw the paper back out of the hole, but she was curious. Anxiously, she unfolded the note to messy handwriting written in black ink.
Bray,
I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. Please meet me outside because I’ll piss my pants if I have to wait up here in the tree for another second.
Wes
Bray didn’t rush to meet him outside—she made him wait a couple of minutes. Slowly, she walked to the opening, and peered out to see Wes tightly gripping the branch above.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Bray asked, “How long would you have waited?”
“An eternity,” he said softly, eyes locked on hers.
“We both know that’s a lie.”
Trembling, Wes edged closer to where she was. “I was remembering when I carried you into the dollar store and you said, ‘this isn’t Pretty Woman.’ Since this is your apartment in a way, I wanted to climb up like the guy scales the stairs in the end.”
She felt the words hit her heart, but then she remembered the rest of the movie. “I’m not a prostitute, either.”
“I know, Bray,” he whispered, looking exhausted. “And I know you’re not a pet or completely human, but you’re special, and I’m sorry. I’m not going to say I won’t say anything stupid ever again, because we both know I probably will. My mouth can get out of control. Whatever harsh things may come out when we argue, we both know those words aren’t true.”
“I forgive you.” Bray wasn’t good at holding grudges, and she didn’t want to. Especially after all they had lost.
“Now, will you please come down and go inside?” His body wavered, and he looked as if he might throw up.
“You want me to go inside the house?”
“Please.”
In her own way, she answered Wes by flying past him and waiting for him at the door. She watched as he climbed unsteadily down the tree and then headed for the house. He opened the door, and she flew straight to the couch and shifted forms.
“I’m so sorry, Wes,” she finally said gently. There wasn’t much else she could say.
Wes let out a long sigh. “I had time to think, time to hate, time to think some more. It was everyone’s fault, and it was no one’s fault. But you lost a brother, too. Not just me.”
She actually felt like she had lost two brothers, and if she said that out loud, it would cause her to break down. And she might never stop. “What happened afterward?”
Wes leaned back and propped his head on the back of the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. “I went to the hospital, and it was a big mess. I had to do a whole lot of lying mixed with some truth, and say this guy posed as a family member and kidnapped Luca. The police went to the cabin and since his body is now dirt, which I couldn’t say, they are still after him. He’s also wanted for Rana Alvi’s kidnapping.
“I had to tell Kyle not to bring up your name because you were out of town for a few weeks, and Luca wouldn’t want you to be a part of this mess. I shouldn’t have asked that of him, but he seemed to understand, so he just told the police how this strange guy came to the school twice.”
Bray didn’t know what to think or feel. She had spent so much time in the tree crying because she wanted both boys back—her little brother and her little beast. She knew she could only get one back.
There were tears beading up on Wes’s black lower lashes. She reached over and wiped them away. “Do you want to bring him back?” she asked quietly.
Wes’s body stilled. “I know what you’re getting at, and I’m not going to force you into that. It’s also way too soon to think abou
t babies. You have your whole life ahead of you. Somehow, we’ll tell people you have amnesia, get you a social security card, and then you can go to school or work or whatever. Not just sit in the house or a tree for the rest of your life.”
“I can still do all that, but I want to bring him back.” Bray couldn’t imagine a world without Luca in it.
“I told you, it’s not the same thing,” he said, his voice on the verge of breaking.
“I’m not human, remember, so this is an unusual circumstance. I may not get pregnant the first time, either.”
Tears slid down Wes’s cheeks, and she mirrored him with the same wet streaks on hers. She hitched her leg around his waist to sit in his lap. Bringing her face close to Wes’s, she brushed her nose gently against his, and he closed his eyes.
Wes’s lips were slightly parted, and Bray brushed her mouth against his with a soft touch, before pulling back calm and steady. His eyelids shot open and warm brown eyes stared into hers adoringly. Bray’s gaze fell to the pale scar above his lip, and she leaned forward to kiss it.
She lifted Wes’s shirt over his head and ran her hands up his back. He reached around and pulled out the rubber band at the end of her braid, before slowly unraveling her hair.
He moved his hands through her free locks and stared at her with longing. “Do you want me to sing for you?”
“What?” She grinned at the strange question.
“We’ve danced together—I figured we might as well try everything. So, why not serenade you.” Wes gave her a small smile. Then he started to sing, terribly, but better than her, as he stroked his hand across her lower back. A smile tugged at his lips as his eyes filled with tears. Even though she loved the original song by 10,000 Maniacs, she liked his version better.
Bray smiled and laughed softly as she pulled her dress over her head, and more tears flowed down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around Wes, his head falling in between her breasts, and he began to sob.
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