Chapter 43
Chapter
Forty-Three
Trent washed the pot, hand moving through the suds. Kelby sat in her terrarium by the window, croaking softly.
Since returning to work, she’d rarely left his side. She usually preferred to sit on his shoulder or in his pocket rather than be in the terrarium, which he’d moved between his bedroom and the bakery. But he’d just fed her, and she was digesting.
He stared at Kelby’s terrarium. Malachi had touched that glass. His fingers and tentacles had placed each of those plants, the soil, and the branches into the terrarium.
Fuck, I miss his touch. Does he miss mine?
Swallowing, Trent focused on washing the pot, listening to the rhythm of Kelby’s croaks. He was pretty sure she would be happy as his familiar. But it felt wrong to ask Malachi’s frog without clearing it with Malachi first.
And since he wasn’t seeing Malachi anymore…
Leo had pointed out that Malachi wanted Trent to have Kelby and would probably want Kelby to be his familiar. He’d even offered to ask Malachi if he was all right with Kelby becoming Trent’s familiar. But Trent had said no.
Why did I say no? Why am I stalling?
Perhaps because he wanted to be excited when he bound his familiar. And right now, he just felt lost and hurt. He missed Malachi too much. So he’d wait until he could find some enthusiasm. Then he would ask Kelby to be his familiar.
Around him his siblings chattered and laughed as they went about their work. It was only a couple of days until Christmas. Everyone was excited, except for him. He lost himself in washing, letting their noise sweep around him.
Trent frowned. His hands paused amongst the suds. Bubbles slid down his wrists and dripped into the water.
He could hear something.
It was not Kelby. Or his siblings. Or the customers in the front of the bakery. Some other sound reached his ears.
But it was so faint. He could barely hear it. In fact, was he actually hearing anything? Or was he imagining the sound?
He tilted his head. He could swear that a sound tingled on the edge of his awareness.
He glanced around. None of the others seemed to hear it. They all continued on with their tasks. Trent closed his eyes, trying to block everything out. He held his breath.
It was soft. So very soft. A tune? A song?
His breath caught. His eyes snapped open.
I have to go.
He dropped the half-cleaned pot into the water. He strode towards the door.
The song called to him. Trent had to answer. He had to find the source. Nothing had ever mattered so much to Trent in his entire life.
He yanked open the door and stepped out into the snow.
“Trent, where are you going?” Ordelia shouted.
But Trent was already striding away. He didn’t have time to answer questions. The song called him!
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He had to get to the voice. He had to!
A gust of wind blew. The cold cut through his clothes. A violent shiver caught him. His teeth chattered. But he didn’t care. He kept on going, the song growing louder and louder with each step.
The melody caressed his cheeks, his forehead, and lips. Like a touch. Like gentle kisses. Like a lover’s caress. The song resonated through him until his entire being tingled. His eyes stung. From the cold or the song, he couldn’t tell.
It felt like the music had emerged from his own beating, wounded, and bleeding heart. It felt like want, yearning, and heartache.
But something else too. Something that made his feet move faster through the snow.
“Trent! What the fuck?” Grady yelled as he came up beside him.
Something heavy settled around his shoulders. Ordelia had placed a coat over him. In fact Jack, Cas, and Uzoth were also there, following after him.
Trent shook his head. He looked away. He kept walking.
But Cas gripped his hand, holding him, stopping him from reaching the voice. “Trent, what is going on?”
Frustration swelled up inside him. “Can’t you hear the song?” he yelled.
Cas frowned and glanced at the others. “What’s song?”
“I have to go to it. It’s calling me!” Trent wrenched his hand free and stumbled onwards through the snow. “It’s my song!” He ran.
He could hear them running after him. They asked him more questions. They reached out to touch him, but he knocked them away. Still, they followed and kept speaking to him. But he ignored them. He continued down the cobblestone streets, listening to the song that called to his soul.
The tune floated through him. He felt like his feet moved in time with the melody. He turned corners and dashed down alleys. He floated on the highs and lows of the music. It swirled within him.
The song had no words. Yet somehow Trent heard them.
Dear heart. My love. Come to me. Be mine.
He would swear that he could hear those words. But at the same time, he knew he could not. It was if they formed in his very core as the music infused his soul.
Nothing mattered but this song. Tears slid down his cheeks as the song thrummed through his veins, reaching into every nook and cranny of his being.
Then he stopped. Ahead of him, standing in the falling snow, stood the singer, the source of the song.
Everything slid into place inside him. And Trent felt complete. Whole.
Dear heart. My love. Come to me. Be mine.
Malachi sang for Trent. Trent had known it deep inside him the moment he heard the song. For a full second, Trent and Malachi stared at each other. Malachi sang to him. In the snow-filled air around Malachi, his tentacles swayed and danced.
Around him, he could see others staring at them. His siblings gathered. They’d finally stopped talking.
Malachi smiled. He stretched out his arms.
Trent sprinted forward, heart thudding in his throat as he slammed against Malachi.
Malachi took his weight, stumbling a step back. The song broke for a split second. But then Malachi’s arms wrapped around Trent, holding him tight. And he continued to sing.
Dear heart. My love. Be mine. My Trent. I love you.
Trent didn’t understand. He couldn’t make sense of anything. There were no words to the song, but still he heard them echoing inside him.
They stood, clutching each other.
Malachi’s song floated around them with the snow. Nothing mattered but the siren’s song and the arms that held Trent.