“Can I join you?” Aaron asked. My feet halted mid-step, my heart thumping a little harder. Blair’s conversation by the fire came back to me and I didn’t let myself think too long or hard before I blurted out my response.
“I would like that.”
I almost missed the stutter in his own chest when Keyla shouted, “I’m coming too!”
Almost, but not quite. Neither of us were as unaffected as we liked to pretend.
And in the midnight hour where no one could see, I smiled to myself.
Chapter 119
I knocked lightly on the stained poplar door. The scent of cedar and peppermint drifted through the space underneath. Footsteps crossed the space coming to a stop directly on the other side. Metal scraped metal as someone turned the lock.
The door cracked open.
A single evergreen eye peered through the sliver. Tori breathed a heavy sigh and swung the door open for me. I crossed into the small living room where Blair sat in an overstuffed armchair with her ankles crossed. Her grey eyes were like fractured ice on a dark road. She stared at Alexandra’s reclined figure, her expression unreadable, but her posture was that of someone watching their ward.
She’s guarding her, I realized. Not from me, but everyone else. Anyone who might think to come to this door and trigger the only other known demon in their midst.
The Shifters had no idea what we really were before. Aaron had explained that last night, the vague details they’d given to those at the residence months ago when we arrived.
Refugees, he’d called us. Survivors, from what happened at Daizlei and from the earthquake that killed thousands. The earthquake I caused…
Yeah. No way in hell was anyone going to buy the sad Supernatural story now, but that wasn’t my problem.
“How is she doing?” I whispered under my breath. Tori grimaced, locking the door behind us.
“Y’all are remarkably similar when you get like this,” she murmured. Blair said nothing, and maybe that was the most telling of all.
Last night I’d been thrown off guard when Alexandra’s demon came out swinging in my defense. I had assumed they’d made peace and that my sister had control over hers, given that she never struggled the same way I had.
Apparently, I was wrong.
Once again, I was the early bird and now the only one left that could train her.
“Alexandra.” I approached her on the cream-colored couch. Her brilliant red hair spilled across a fluffy beige pillow as she laid almost catatonic, watching the flames in the fireplace.
I dropped to my knees in front of her. “I want to talk to you about last night,” I continued lightly. She didn’t even twitch. “About your demon.” A heavy pause punctuated the air as her eyes slowly slid from the fire blazing behind me, to my face.
Her normally warm brown eyes were a shade darker than normal, turning them a flickering amber filled with shadows and fire.
“My demon,” she said dryly. It wasn’t a question, but I responded nonetheless.
“Yes.”
“I knew I had one, in theory…” she trailed off momentarily as her eyes shifted back to the fire. “But I’ve never felt it like that.”
I leaned back, resting on the heels of my feet. Four heartbeats and a crackling fire filled the room with an intimate silence. “Felt it like what?”
“Vengeance,” she whispered. “And rage. So much rage. It was like…” she paused, her eyes flicking to the corner of her vision. “Like I could have sent it all up in flames. Just to burn her down with it.”
I nodded sadly. I felt empathy, because for the first time I think she truly understood me, and I wish she didn’t.
I wish that this terrible gene that made me what I am had skipped her entirely. That I could bear that burden of loneliness and isolation on my own—for the rest of my life—if it spared her.
But that wasn’t the world we lived in, and thinking on the should have, could have, would have…it made no difference. All we could do was move forward with the here and now, where my sister was every bit of demon as I, and possibly Blair too.
“For me, the rage was the hardest to handle. I was angry about anything. Everything…” I took a deep breath, wanting to say more, but finding honesty and vulnerability to be the most difficult admission. “It gets better—more manageable—when you learn to accept it,” I eventually said.
Her gaze narrowed by a hairsbreadth. So little that I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been watching for it. Her jaw clenched with a subtle tension that could have been written off as any number of things, were we talking about anything else.
“Accept it?” she asked, a challenge masked as an innocent question. “That’s what you did? You-you accepted this monster? This thing—”
“Yes, you accept it, and before you go calling your demon a thing, understand the only person you’re going to hurt is yourself. I’ve made peace with mine and I’m better for it.”
Alexandra shifted from laying down to standing in the blink of an eye, her demon riding her hard. Her eyes darted around for a second before settling on me.
“You really have lost it if you think I’m going to give that thing any kind of power over me and what I do. It would burn the world down!” She paused as hysteria began creeping in. “Don’t you get that? Don’t you see? Like, you may be fireproof, but they’re not!”
She glanced at Tori, an anguished sorrow permeating her features. She clenched her fists at her side and the fire died down. Behind her, Blair watched the scene play out between the two of us. Her cool features revealed nothing.
“That’s why you need to train with it. If you think that burning the clearing is the worst thing you can do, then you’re mistaken. Hellfire was able to confine me. If you could control it at will—”
“I don’t want to train with it!” she snapped. “I want nothing to do with it.”
I felt the fireplace explode outwards. Heat lapped at the rug beneath me, traveling to my heels like the hounds of hell. Alexandra’s control wavered back and forth, her eyes flickering from amber to onyx as they darted towards the corners of her vision.
Blair chose that moment to act, twisting her hand sharply to let out a geyser of snow that settled over the burning fire. Within seconds, the only thing left was a puddle of water that slowly seeped its way into my jeans. I rocked forward then back, using my momentum to push myself upward in a standing position.
“You don’t have to want it. You don’t even have to like it—but you need to do it unless you want to end up exactly like I was three months ago,” I said. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to slow her racing heart. Despite her best efforts, it continued erratically thumping, out of control.
“You don’t know that. There’s no way of knowing if I’ll be like you. Like, maybe I can—”
“Do you see shadows in the corners of your eyes?” I asked briskly. Harsh, but to the point.
Alexandra didn’t answer, but then again, I didn’t need her to. The signs were there.
“What about the whispers? Have those started yet?” I continued. Alexandra swallowed hard and her eyes bled brown. The last remnants of her other gone, for the moment.
“Last night was the first time I heard them,” she whispered. Tori came around the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around my sister’s waist. The top of her head only came to Alexandra’s jaw.
“You’re lucky then. I’ve heard them for years, and if I can get better, that means you can too.” I glanced over to Blair who sat as still as an ice sculpture. “Have you shown any signs?”
“No,” she said and shook her head. Her features appeared absolutely glacial in the absence of light. Only two muted rays of sunlight broke through the opaque curtains on both sides of the fireplace.
“Then you both need to train with the assumption that you are, until proven otherwise.” Blair nodded once in acknowledgement.
“What if I hurt someone?” Alexandra asked. She stood on shaky legs, but Tori�
��s arms kept her grounded and standing.
“You won’t. You’ll be working with Blair and I’ll stand on the sidelines to make sure the fire never gets out of control,” I replied. An uncomfortable twisting settled in my stomach, knowing where this was going to go.
“That’s bullshit,” Alexandra quipped back. “You slept for months and came back different. You haven’t practiced with any of us even once, and now you expect me to do as you say? What the hell, Selena? That’s complete bullshit.”
She released Tori to cross her arms over her chest, giving me the look. The fearless stare that she reserved for moments when she wasn’t backing down, and there would be no reasoning with her.
“I understand you’re upset—”
“No. Don’t pull that with me.” Alexandra shook her head in disbelief. “Don’t you dare pull that with me. Not if you expect me to believe anything you say.” She stalked across the charred mush remains of the rug, coming to a stop directly in front of me. “You said you’re different. That you’ve changed, and you don’t want to live in lies anymore. Prove it. Tell me why you won’t train with us. Give me one good reason why I should do what you’re saying, and not expect the same in return.”
I grimaced but gave her the truth. “When I lift my hands, people die. When I get upset, people die. When I use my ability, people die. It’s only since I woke up that I’m even able to hold it together. How can I gamble with everyone’s lives on the chance that I’ve healed enough to not kill anyone?” I lifted my hands, as if to examine them. These cold, killer hands meant for ruthless acts. Strange how they weren’t particularly large or rough. They really looked quite ordinary.
Until I splayed my fingers and turned them over. Those scars never lied. The twin pentagrams that adorned my palms, put there by demons. Much like her and I.
Alexandra reached out a sun-kissed hand and closed her fingers over my own.
“Because you’re not alone.” She wrapped her other arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “Fire can kill just as many as an earthquake. Nyx knows what hellfire really does. It could be worse. You may be a matter manipulator, but if we’re both demons, then we work together. As equals.”
“Equals?” I repeated.
Huh. After over seventeen years and only eight minutes apart, it dawned on me that we really were equals in everything now. She no longer needed my protection, but truth be told, she hasn’t needed that for years. She didn’t need a guardian. She didn’t need a parent.
She needed a sister and an equal. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Equals,” Blair affirmed, coming to stand beside us. I couldn’t dispute Alexandra any more than I did Blair, my cousin turned apprentice.
Maybe I should learn to treat them all like equals, even Tori—the sister of my sister’s killer. The roommate turned friend, once upon a time. The young woman that stands beside my sister with her head held high.
I sighed deeply, knowing they were right despite how at odds I was with myself.
“If I train with you, do you promise to work on it with your demon?” I asked Alexandra. She didn’t look any happier about it now than she did when I first brought it up, but the steel in her spine was resolute. I wouldn’t be the only one making compromises today.
“Yeah, but only if you help me. I don’t want to accidentally burn the residence down.” She flipped her mass of red hair over a slim shoulder. “Also, I don’t think Aaron would be very happy with us if I did. I mean, he’d deal, but let’s not.”
She diffused the tension with a wink, but I couldn’t help wondering how long it would last. How long would we get to be like this? Together, not quite happy, but alive. If there’s anything Lily’s death taught me, it’s that the only thing that is guaranteed in life is change.
And every one of our lives could change in the blink of an eye.
Or just one training session gone wrong.
Chapter 120
I once read that sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.
I couldn’t help but wonder if this was mine.
I was a failure. First as a daughter. Then as a sister. As a Supernatural. Now as a Vampire.
I had been Made for the sole purpose of serving a master I’d never met. I was supposed to be stronger and faster than the other Vampires. I should have retained my ability and become unstoppable.
But instead, I had failed in that too.
And after three months of playing the game, it was getting clear that Victor’s patience was tiring. His beautifully high hopes crashed and burned because instead of getting stronger, I was weaker with every day that passed, and blood wasn’t helping me.
So here I was, locked inside a dusty, old room and starving. No one had come in over three days. No beautiful children dressed like dolls. No leering guards that made no mistake about what they wanted from me.
And no Victor.
I once regarded him as the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, despite his cruelty. I’d hoped that his lovely smile meant he liked me, favored me enough that I could earn a single sliver of freedom. That he would find my submissive nature so endearing that he would let down his guard.
I see now that I was a fool.
Victor didn’t have time for Made that couldn’t do as they were told, and certainly not weak, pathetic creatures like me.
I tossed back my head and let out a terrible laugh, pushing the disgusting blankets away from me. The scents of mold and mildew caked my body like dried mud. My throat burned from a fire that only blood could sate, however brief that relief may be.
A sharp knock pierced my ears before the heavy door opened.
“Hello, flower,” the guard said, his red eyes harsh and cruel.
I chose not to reply and instead averted my eyes to the bag of crimson liquid in his hand. Hoping he would mistake my clawing hunger for submission. They were big on that around here. Downcast eyes. Closed lips. Heads tilted forward just enough that it was almost a bow.
This guard was no different. He closed the door behind him and stalked towards me like the predator he was. It didn’t even occur to me that I should be afraid.
No one closed the door except Victor, but he wasn’t here anymore.
“Your master wants you fed. Thinks it might make his pretty little Made more compliant,” the guard continued. His black boots stopped directly in front of me. Close enough that if I knew how to feel fear and I had a beating heart, it would have pounded in my chest.
But I couldn’t feel anything beyond the thirst that enslaved my body and mind.
I lifted my chin just a fraction, my eyes traveling back to the blood bag in his hand.
Dinner. The first I’d have in three days.
“Please,” I croaked. The hoarse whisper scraped against my dry throat like sandpaper.
“Please what?” the guard coerced. I lifted my head so he could see my pleading eyes, hoping it would spare me from using more words. “Oh, this?” he asked mockingly. I nodded my head despite the demeaning nature of his words.
My lips parted in anticipation as I waited for him to place the bag just close enough to my face that I could bite into it. He did.
The sharp points of my fangs punctured the plastic and a sweet aroma filled the air. I was too far gone to feel guilt for where the blood came from or disgust with myself for drinking it. Not when the cracks in my throat instantly mended.
The guard didn’t shy away as I drank greedily, too starved to even register the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. I was only halfway through the bag when he ripped it from my mouth.
“That’s enough,” he snapped, tilting back his head to drink the rest. Dribbles of blood spilled over his lips as he smiled maliciously. I glared up at him, hating him, hating myself and this new body with its foreign urges. I didn’t understand my anger. It was not logical and defied everything I knew.
Then again, so had my depression. And so had the darkness.
Was this really so
different?
A rough snarl escaped my lips, making the guard narrow his eyes. My mind told me I should be afraid, that I saw the way this guard looked at me…but my body said different.
A cold hunger had me in its grasp and I lunged for his throat.
The guard reacted faster, striking me down with a backhand to the face for my insolence. I spat at him, making his already red eyes turn hot as flame. It reminded me of someone. My sister. Alexandra. I held onto that thought of her when his hand came down on me again.
The flesh didn’t not sting as much this time, but the crack was still jarring. I’d never been hit like that in my life. The thought sent my anger spiraling. Reaching. The darkness in me opened and for the first time in months, I felt alive.
The feeling was short lived when he turned away. I grit my teeth but couldn’t stop myself from calling out, “Is that the best you’ve got?”
The guard stopped, but his chest didn’t heave at the insult. He didn’t have a beating heart or need lungs to breathe. When he turned back towards me, his eyes narrowed as another cruel smile skirted his lips.
“You want more?” he asked, his voice oozing with vulgar satisfaction. It should have disgusted me, but it didn’t. I stared back at him as he stalked towards me. The air in my room was stale, but the hardness of his hand when he struck me again made it seem fresh. Crisp.
I drifted for a moment. Almost content.
Until he began unzipping his pants.
“What are you doing?” I croaked, averting my eyes when he removed them entirely. I wasn’t playing submissive this time. I’d never seen a man naked, and I didn’t want to. Not here. Not like this.
“You asked for more. I want a taste of you, flower.”
The words chilled me, and I tried to pull away when he crawled onto the bed.
No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
I kicked at him, attempting to mimic the way my sister would use her legs to crush a man’s skull, but he was stronger, and my body was not what it once was. I bucked off the bed, punching him in the face. He swiped my arms out of the air and pinned me down with one hand.
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