by Flynn Eire
If you did, thank you. Thank you for respecting me and other authors for their hard work, understanding this is our job, and while we love it, we do deserve to be compensated for all the hours, and hours, and hours we put into it.
If you did not… Go buy one! You are a thief and your parents and grandparents and cute animals all around the world are ashamed of you. There is no justification for committing this crime because it is a crime, no different than walking into a physical bookstore, taking a print copy off the shelf, and walking out of the store without paying for it.
There is no such thing as a victimless crime. If you truly believe that, you’ve never been a victim. And the victims aren’t only the authors, but the fans who lose authors that quit over our constantly being stolen from and mistreatment. Mistreating the authors that write the books you like or read—not liking them isn’t an excuse for theft, it’s just extra weird then—that’s not a fan. Fans leave reviews to support. Fans send messages of love. Fans… Well fans are nice. Be nice.
There are lots of ways to fight ebook piracy, reporting the site even if you’re not the copyright holder is always a good option. If you want to help in the fight, Google it and you can see there are many ways.
Foster Taher went through something horrific that led to a torturous year he couldn’t escape. A banshee who found his scream—and thus abandoned by everyone and everything he knew—has nowhere to turn to, and he never forgets that or his loyalties to Diego for saving him.
Pierce Maddos has been looking for his best friend and first love for years, running into dead end after dead end in his search. A fire demon who lost himself when his parents transferred him to a new school to keep him from the one he loved, he finally pulled himself together when his team brought him in, always with the goal to fold into Diego’s crest.
But when the two meet again years later and have different accounts of what happened the last time they saw each other, the whole crest is thrown into turmoil. And while Foster wants nothing more than to put Pierce and the past behind him, he can’t help but ask the question on his mind… What if he was wrong?
It hurts. It hurts too much. This can’t be right. It shouldn’t be this way.
Is this bullying? Is that what’s happening here?
He’s too big. I’m too small. It shouldn’t be this way.
I can’t breathe. He’s too rough for me to get air into my lungs. He’s pushed all the air from me.
The pain in my stomach is getting worse. Why my stomach? It can’t be hitting my stomach, right? Or is that everything else being pushed where it shouldn’t and a chain reaction happens?
Gods help me! It’s tearing more. He’s going to kill me. This—he can’t going on forever. Please let it end.
I can’t move. He just left me like this. I’m going to die here, used and broken.
No! I know what comes next. I can’t go through this again.
Diego, hurry and come save me. Why couldn’t you have saved me sooner?
Please wake up. WAKE. UP!
I gasped as I sat up in bed, clawing at my neck and then covering my mouth before I screamed. I hadn’t had that nightmare for months. All this time had passed since then, and months was the furthest I could go at not remembering what I’d been through during my nightmares.
It took me several minutes to calm down, and luckily I had woken well before my alarm. Then as if a mindless drone—all of my energy for the day used up in my restful sleep—I started my after-nightmare routine. I pulled off the sweat-soaked sheets and extra thick mattress pad, trying not to tear up when I saw the huge wet spot in the middle. I was twenty years old and still wet the bed. The nightmare so traumatic, so vivid that it scared me into thinking I could go through that hell again, that I pissed myself.
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Four-and-a-half years later and I still reacted that way.
I showered, adding my dirty night shirt to the pile to be washed while I was at class. I took an extra-long one, glad it was still too early for others to be up. Almost feeling normal, simply exhausted instead of traumatized, I headed back to my room.
“It happened again, didn’t it, Foster?” a soft voice asked. My head snapped, and I locked eyes with my only real friend, Spyros. I gave a slight nod, and he sighed before dragging me into a hug. I tried to pull away, not wanting to hurt him or lose my towel in the process. “A hug is good for you. That’s all this is, okay? Let me get ready, and we’ll take a field trip, blow off classes. How about we go to that breakfast place you like in town and see if we can run errands for the crest? That should get your mind off things.”
“Thanks, but we shouldn’t ditch class,” I muttered, relaxing a bit and trying to accept his gesture.
“Shut up. You know you get a pass when this happens, and I could use a break after working on so many papers.” He’d been buried in school work while trying to help everyone in our crest and others by editing their assignments. Mostly he liked it, and Diego liked the points it brought into our crest, but really, I knew Spyros’s endgame was he wanted to edit for the author in our crest since Spyros adored Joost’s books.
“I do like their crepes.” I gave a weak smile and let go when I heard him chuckle. I was a crepe fiend and everyone knew it. I had such problems talking with people, unable to interact much because of my trauma… And because I was scared of my power. It was too volatile.
But if someone put crepes in front of me, they could about convince me of anything.
“All right, give me ten minutes to get ready and we’re out of here. I’ll talk with Diego and get keys for one of the crest vehicles.”
I ended up handling that part before throwing my laundry in the washer. Diego was as sweet and kind about my situation as always. He had saved me from the horrible aftermath though, so he was well acquainted with my issues.
I didn’t think to ask why he was up so early though, since normally he tended to be a night owl. Not that he slept the morning away—or even got enough sleep—but for him to be awake, freshly showered, and dressed just after six was odd. I should have questioned that. Might have saved me later.
“I wonder what’s going on?” I asked Spyros when we saw Diego talking to a small group by our dorm’s entrance not even fifteen minutes later.
“I heard it’s one of the security teams that our crest is absorbing. Something happened with Major, and the team’s getting training by protecting him.”
I nodded, filing it away as I worried about Major. He was so nice to everyone, awesome for the crest… And one of the last people who deserved anything bad to happen to him.
“Foster? Holy shit, Foster Taher, is that you?” a deep voice exclaimed. I turned towards the person and had only a second to take in their face before strong arms hugged me.
I can’t move. No, I’m projecting. This can’t be right.
But then he moved back, still holding onto my arms, shooting me that big smile that had once made me think we were friends. “God, it’s been forever! What, almost five years, right? I looked for you and—”
That was the trigger I needed to snap out of it. He looked for me. No, I wouldn’t let this happen here, not again. I opened my mouth, and with everything I had, pouring all my emotions into it, I screamed. I didn’t hold back, I didn’t care the consequences or who else might be injured… I simply reacted in fear and self-preservation.
“No! Foster, don’t,” Spyros begged from behind me.
I couldn’t stop it though. I watched one of my worst nightmares, standing in front of me in the flesh, endure the effects of my scream. He let me go and covered his ears, stumbling away as blood
came trickling out of his nose and eyes. I saw it start dripping down his neck from his ears. I knew his brain would melt, his insides turn into jelly, but now that I could defend myself, I had no qualms using my only weapon even if the outcome was too severe.
I can’t go through that again.
Suddenly a hand slapped over my mouth. I went to bite it, but I realized the person was also hugging me. I knew that hug. It was one of the few I accepted. I turned in Diego’s arms and collapsed against him, sobbing.
“Hey, it’s okay, Foster. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you, right?” he whispered too loudly in my ear. “I know the nightmare was bad last night but—”
“It’s him,” I choked out, knowing he wouldn’t be able to understand me. My scream didn’t only effect the one I aimed it at, though they alone would have more than ringing ears and a headache as any loud noise brought. After a few more times, Diego still didn’t register what I said, so I grabbed either side of his face and made sure he was staring into my eyes, could see the fear I knew to be there. “Diego, it’s him.”
My crest leader’s eyes went wide, and an instant later I was pushed behind him, Spyros there to catch me. I saw Diego lunge at my nightmare, my already exhausted body unable to keep up with what was going on and the shouting from all sides after screaming like that. The edges of my vision faded into black, and all I could do was hope that Diego and Spyros would keep me safe.
I had faith in Diego, even if that security team probably wouldn't be on our side.
* * * *
When I woke, everything was white. Except the metal. Metal from railings on a gurney. The infirmary. Right.
“Hey, don’t sit up yet, and he’s in here too, so don’t scream,” Spyros warned. I gave a slight nod. There were a lot more people around, including Headmaster Browning.
“Foster clearly identified him. That was why he screamed,” Diego informed the headmaster. “We will pay for the damage to the school—”
“I care nothing for broken windows and blasted out doors,” Browning declared firmly, rubbing his forehead. “I’m appalled that we might have admitted a rapist into our college, and even worse, he’s been on his own all this time, never being dealt with. How could Foster not report this?”
“He didn’t want to be shunned. Plus, it’s worse than you think. Way worse. Faculty worse.”
I shivered at Diego’s words. Yeah, it had been. But most paranormals who weren’t banshees didn’t understand how devastating shunning was to us. It wasn’t that rumors would fly or people would talk about me at parties, no one wanting to be my friend.
Oh no, I would be kicked out of the community. It was one of the stupidest, most heartless practices in the paranormal community to me. If a banshee found their scream, every other banshee would turn their back on them with rock solid conviction.
The horror of it being a banshee “found” their scream only after a trauma unlocked it. There were banshees who were hundreds and hundreds of years old that couldn’t scream, praised for their purity and life that left no ripples in the pond of our community. As opposed to someone like me who was victimized… That caused lots of ripples, fucking waves even.
But to hold that against the person hurt, making them the source of a problem in the community was deplorable. I mean, it was done to them… Not something they’d done.
“Look, I’m not saying your guy is lying, but I’ve known Pierce Maddos for years, and he’s not someone who goes off raping people. He’s a big softy. Great tactical guy, but personally, a softy who would stop and pick flowers for someone sad,” a man argued with Diego and Browning, probably the team’s leader. “All I’m saying is before you ship him off to whoever for judgment, can you please just hear his side? I didn’t agree to have my crest combine with yours to watch my team cut down on accusations without any fairness involved.”
I scrunched my eyes closed. His side? How can there be multiple sides to something so straightforward?
“Fine, fair is listening to him,” Diego sighed, and I heard how tired he was in his tone. “But he stays away from Foster. That’s non-negotiable. I personally can attest to not having control over myself and actions, and that can be forgivable given what we all are, but he left a lot of damage in the aftermath instead of fixing the situation. That’s not something that gets a pass.”
“Assuming it was a situation like that and he hasn’t simply been fooling everyone into thinking he is a kind man,” Browning muttered. I agreed with him.
Pierce had fooled me all those years ago.
I really wanted to wake up from this nightmare now though. My only consolation as to what had happened was I wouldn’t ever see him again.
But when I opened my eyes again, I saw him lying there, being treated a few beds away from me. It was hard not to wet the cot, being that close to him scared me so much. I must have dozed a bit, panicking tiring out my body even more, because when I woke again, I realized Pierced was awake.
And staring at me.
“I don’t understand why you hate me,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “I’ve missed you so much, Foster. I know I moved away suddenly and didn’t contact you when I said I would, but I did try once things with my family settled.”
I glanced around, seeing there were lots of people I knew on my side and would protect me if need be… Along with a few I found surprising. Like Jericho from Doyle McCready’s crest.
“Diego asked me to come,” the man stated, probably understanding my confusion. “I’m part giant after all. I could take them all out and endure everything needed if I stand in front of you.”
“Come sit on the bed with me then, please,” I whispered, my heart easing back on the ache when the huge man smiled and did as I asked. Then I had the courage to look back at Pierce. With all these layers of help and protection, I could face him. Maybe? “You can’t be that stupid, Pierce, and think I’m upset because you didn’t contact me. You know what happened the last time we saw each other.”
His face went pale, and guilt swarmed his eyes. I glanced at Diego who saw it too, nodding we were on the same page.
“I’m sorry, Foster. I was worse than I thought then.”
“Wait, that can’t possibly be your apology—” Diego started but shut his mouth when Headmaster Browning held up a hand.
“Before we mince too many words, let’s start with your version of what happened that day,” he guided, though given his tone, it really was more of an order. He had a gift that way.
“Right, right,” Pierce sighed, sitting up and turning towards me as if to speak to me but then facing back to the middle of the room. “I can’t do it when I see the hate for me in his eyes. I love Foster. I’ve always loved Foster.”
“You’ve got to be fucking joking me,” I breathed, closing my mouth when Browning shot me a firm but understanding look. Right, no interrupting his talk time.
“He was my buddy freshman year, talking to a big oaf who stood out,” Pierce explained, closing his eyes and leaning back on the pillows. “I swear I fell in love that first day of school at lunch when he sat down in front of me and declared that I should get extra portions to feed such a big body. He said he was little so he didn’t need so much and gave me part of his sandwich and fries. No one had ever been so kind to me out of the blue like that.
“I was Foster’s from that moment. I followed him around anywhere he went, protected him from bullies, and totally adored him. I didn’t know how to tell him, but then the last day of sophomore year I finally admitted it all. First year we didn’t room together, but second year I talked him into requesting each other. So that day I had already packed for home, he was supposed to be done too, but instead I caught him watching one of the animes he didn’t think anyone knew he loved in secret.
“I still remember how he looked, headphones on, staring at his computer with that dream-filled look, smiling slightly. He was beautiful. And then he said the words I longed to hear—I wish someone loved me enough that they wo
uld toss me down and ravage me, not letting me chicken out or hide. He looked right at me after that. What more of a green light did someone need? I pounced on him, but I messed up. I messed up really badly, and I didn’t know it until later.” He about choked on that last part, and Browning glanced at me.
“He’s not wrong,” I admitted, thinking of how to phrase what I wanted to say best. “I mean, it wasn’t an invitation, I definitely know that. I tend to repeat the good lines from anime while I’m watching them, so I didn’t know if it was that or I was in la-la land, but it certainly wasn’t a hint for him to jump me.”
“Oh gods, I really messed up then,” Pierced sobbed quietly. “I’m so sorry, Foster. I didn’t know about lube or how to prepare someone. I thought it just went in.” I saw several people standing there wince, knowing that wasn’t the half of it. “And when your cherry popped, I was so happy I was your first and—”
“Wait, men do not have an actually cherry to pop,” Spyros hissed, dragging out the words he thought most important, glancing from me to Pierce as if asking me if that guy was that dumb.
Apparently he was. If he hadn’t done it to hurt me intentionally or was oblivious to what had really happened—which I would never have guessed was the truth—then he was just dumb.
“I didn’t know that,” Pierced babbled, looking pathetic and pitiful as tears ran down his cheeks and his nose stuffed up, distorting his voice even as he kept wiping boogers away with the back of his hand. Okay, so he was an ugly crier. “I didn’t know it was actually Foster’s hole tearing like that. I mean, I thought it was a lot of blood for a cherry even though I heard it could vary, but I never even considered I could tear him up—”
“That’s enough specifics,” I rasped, hiding behind Jericho somewhat. Actually, I more pulled him to sit at the head of the bed so he blocked me from Pierce’s view. “No one needs to hear exactly what your stupidity did to me physically even if someone were to believe such a ridiculous story.”