Chapter 22
I blazed a trail home, using voice-to-text to check in on Grandpa, Ivan, and Nikki.
All replied fairly quickly, which made my drive home a lot less stressful than the day had been.
The video of the daycare weighed heavy on my mind.
But I parked and headed upstairs with Angel’s kiss still burned onto my lips.
How easy would it have been to go home with him? Forget everything and bask in the sexiest man I’d ever met? Too easy. And that was the problem.
I entered my apartment to the wireless speaker playing Stray Kids’ “Walking on Water” on low, and Ivan lying on the floor with Peanut Butter on his chest. I hesitated, closing the door behind me and staring at him. Was he okay?
“Ivan?”
“Hmm?” He grunted at me.
“You okay?”
“Yes?”
Was that a question? “Did you eat?” I put my bag away, stuffing it in the cubby beside the door to keep myself from opening the videos from the daycare again.
“Cereal.”
“Breakfast and lunch?” I clarified.
“Yes.”
I swallowed my sigh and made my way to the kitchen to make dinner.
Grandpa said Ivan was scattered. Maybe this was what he meant, that Ivan wasn’t really good at independence?
Not that he needed to be yet. He was young.
But it was something he’d have to learn eventually.
I pulled out wonton wrappers, a bag of broccoli slaw, and a couple of cans of chicken.
Easy, fast, and full of nutrition—that was the plan.
My phone pinged and I glanced at it.
Angel: You eating?
Making dinner.
“So, you really like guys?” Ivan asked as I lined the wonton wrappers on a baking tray draped over the back side of a muffin tin to make them into a bowl shape.
“Uh, I did say I’m queer. Why?” Did it bother him?
Would he have freaked out about Angel? Could I bury my attraction to Angel if Ivan protested?
Fuck, I’d never been this attracted to anyone in my life before.
It hurt to have the idea that someone really clicked for me and we had a chance severed before it could begin.
“You have a lot of naked guy art on your walls.”
I blinked, wondering what the hell he was talking about. I didn’t. I didn’t even own any pornography. “What?”
He pointed up to the pictures above the back of the couch. Some were of pop idols, mostly Asian, others were anime characters. Almost all of them were portraits. None of them were naked.
“Nikki drew all those. And they aren’t naked.”
“Lots of bare chests.”
I waved away his comment. Was it weird to put my best friend’s art on the wall? She was really good. People paid her unreasonable amounts of money for things she gifted me all the time. Maybe she’d draw me one of Angel.
“Do they bother you?”
“No.”
Okay, then…
“Would it bother you if I dated someone?” I asked.
“It’s your place,” Ivan said.
“But I want you to feel safe here, too.”
He grunted, but offered no further commentary.
Dinner came together fast. The wontons crisped as I warmed the slaw and chicken with a homemade sesame ginger sauce. I set the table, while Ivan remained on the floor petting Peanut Butter.
“Come eat, please,” I asked as I filled our glasses with ice water. Maybe I should have made tea or something. Grandpa liked iced tea, but I’d never been a fan.
Ivan slipped into the seat opposite me, frowning at the food.
“I can make something else,” I offered as I filled three wonton crisps with the chicken and slaw mix. As dinners went, it was messy, but fast and delicious. “If you don’t like this.”
“What is it?” Ivan asked as he picked up a shell, studying it as though he’d never seen one before.
“That’s a wonton wrapper. I oven bake them instead of frying. The mix is broccoli and cabbage with chicken and dressing. Sort of like an Asian taco. It’s not spicy like a regular taco, more a mix of sweet and salty.”
“Taco?” he said, as he scooped a heap into his shell, turning it back and forth like he wasn’t certain how to eat it. Hadn’t he had tacos before?
I took a bite to demonstrate, devouring my first wonton in three bites, not realizing how hungry I’d been. A man could not live on cake alone. I picked up my phone and took a picture to send to Angel.
Proof I’m eating.
Ivan took a tentative bite, his taco falling apart all over his plate, which made him frown, but he scooped up the filling on pieces of his broken wonton shell and nibbled.
Looks tasty.
A picture appeared a few seconds later of a heaping stir fry that looked amazing. Mushrooms, peppers, squash, snap peas, and what could have been tofu or chicken mixed in a dark sauce. I’d have eaten the shit out of that.
Yum.
I offered to cook for you.
A man who can cook and eats vegetables, you’re one in a million.
Angel sent me a laughing emoji.
Four more wonton tacos and I sat back, stuffed, and humming happily, as I’d been craving that for a few days.
Ivan ate two. Didn’t he need more food as a shifter?
Should I push? Or would that create some sort of eating disorder if he didn’t already have one?
Was it okay to ask? How the hell did anyone parent when they knew nothing?
“You sure you don’t want me to make something else?” I offered. “There should be a bag of chicken nuggets or something.” Didn’t all kids like chicken nuggets? Though, he wasn’t a kid as much as a teen, but hey. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.
“I called that shifter guy from yesterday.”
I blinked at him as I tried to make sense of his words. “What?” Wait. Xavier. He’d called Xavier. My heart sank. “Do you want to leave?”
He glanced up, gaze meeting mine for a half second before darting away, as though getting caught looking at me would mean punishment of some kind. “No.”
Dragging information out of the kid was going to push the limits of my patience. “Okay.”
“He said to call if I ever needed him.”
Had something happened while I was gone?
Ivan shrugged, picking at his food. “I’ve never met other shifters before.”
“Your school didn’t have any?”
“Not shifters. Just the other kinds.” He glanced at my armband. “No red or black either. Blue, green, some yellow.”
What does each color armband represent?
It seemed like my little brother knew more than I did.
Categories. Blue=perception based, i.e. mind reading or illusion; green=movement like telekinesis; yellow=predictive; orange=shifter; red=necromancy; black=demon and god energy.
Holy shit!
No wonder people stared at me. I thought the black in my band meant I could perceive demons, but demons and gods?
Dozens of variances within each category, which is why the color isn’t exactly the same, no matter the variance.
And two variances blending like mine?
Rare. Not unheard of, but rare.
I stewed on that and nibbled on a wonton shell; the crunch comfortingly familiar. “My work partner, Angel, says Xavier knows a lot about shifters.” I tried to sound neutral, though Xavier scared the fuck out of me. “Angel is a shifter. He could probably answer some questions for you.”
Ivan nodded, and heaped a few spoons full of the chicken mix onto his plate, then broke a couple of wonton shells over it, like a taco salad.
“Xavier offered to teach me some stuff. Can you drop me off tomorrow before work?” He glanced around my tiny apartment.
“Xavier offered me a place there, but…” He let out a long breath.
“Unless I’m a burden to you, maybe you can pick me up after work? ”
“You’re not a burden,” I said. “I’ll start packing up the office and moving things around to give you space. I want you to think of this as a safe space, Ivan.”
“What if Dad demands I go home?”
I didn’t think he would. “Do you want to?”
“I don’t know.”
Ivan’s world shrank even while expanding, and I understood that more than most. Human nature meant fear of change, and his world had erupted, even if the life he knew had been filled with trauma and fear. Safety was a mental space of familiarity.
“I will take you to Xavier’s tomorrow.” Though I had no idea how to get there and knew it was across the Veil. “I go in pretty early. Is that all right?”
“Yes,” Ivan said, scraping his plate clean. At least he was eating.
I picked up my plate, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher, leaving the rest on the table in hopes he’d eat his fill. “I picked up some things for you from the bakery I was at when you called,” I said. “Honestly, I picked up a lot. Feel free to eat any of it.”
He glanced my way, then back to the food on the table, and took another spoonful of the chicken filling.
Maybe he needed me to not pay attention to what he ate?
I turned back to the kitchen, texted Nikki about the cake I’d bought her, and pulled out a bowl, deciding to make cookies.
What kid didn’t like chocolate chip cookies?
Nikki appeared as I separated the dough onto baking sheets, letting herself in and picking up Peanut Butter who greeted her at the door.
Ivan froze where he sat at the table, as if fearing someone else saw him.
But she slipped a letter-sized manila envelope onto the table beside him and made her way to the kitchen, giving him space.
“Cookies?” she asked.
“Yep. Want some? Cake is in the fridge.”
She opened the fridge. “I’ve heard of that bakery. Never been brave enough to go across the Veil to try it. Was it scary?”
“The bakery? Or the other side of the Veil?” I asked as I popped the trays into the oven and worked on filling two more.
“Both? And you owe me a story about real life anime characters.” She eyed all the goodies I’d bought from the bakery.
“Okay, I’m officially jealous. You’ll have to take me the next time you’re off.
” She closed the fridge, began to braid her long hair, and headed toward the open part of the living room.
“You dance, Ivan?” Nikki asked, startling him.
He looked up from the manila envelope she’d given him, which I knew had to contain artwork.
Nikki protected her stuff in a clear plastic sleeve and always delivered it via envelope.
Sometimes, if I wasn’t home until late, she’d leave it on the table or slip it under the door.
“No?”
Nikki turned on my rarely used television and clicked the game console to the newest dance game. “Your brother’s got moves.”
I waved a hand at her as I flipped the trays of cookies.
“K-pop edition,” Nikki said with a wink.
I groaned. “Let me change first.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Watch the cookies,” I said as I made my way to the bedroom to change into pajamas.
When I returned to the living room, the first two trays of cookies were on the cooling racks and the second two were in the oven.
Nikki did a few practice moves in sock-clad feet, Ivan watching as if he’d never seen anyone dance in real life before. Maybe he hadn’t.
My phone pinged, and I found another text from Angel:
You resting?
I sent back a picture of cookies and then the screen with the dance game.
Going to dance away some stress.
I’d like to see that.
I swallowed back a smile and made my way over. “What do you want to dance to first?” I asked Nikki.
“Maniac or Giant?”
“God’s Menu.”
“Dangerous choice without a warmup,” she said, but put the video on.
I stepped into my spot, giving the camera a few seconds to recognize where I was.
Nikki took hers a few feet in front and to the left of me.
The song started, and we danced. I let the music slip into my bones and ease all the tension from the day.
While I was a little out of practice, I kept up.
We used to do this a couple of times a month.
As we both got older, the time for fun had waned beneath the pressure of long work hours.
But maybe that was my fault. Burying myself in work had eased the loneliness, and I’d forgotten how much I loved to dance.
The first song ended, and I had to take the cookies out of the oven. The first batch was cool enough to eat, so I passed some to Nikki and Ivan. Ivan stared at his before tentatively taking a bite. I ate three, then navigated to “Supernova”.
“Oh,” Nikki said. “First one wear you out already?”
I set up my phone to record. “As if. Ready?”
She hit the button. We danced. I messed up at least twice, but we both laughed, breathing hard and taking a break to eat more cookies. I ended the recording and spent a few seconds editing the video to cut out the extra before sending it to Angel with a text that said:
Sometimes I’m clumsy.
“Want to try?” I asked Ivan.
He stood off to the side, munching on cookies. “I don’t know how.”
“We’ll pick an easy one for you,” Nikki said.
“There are a few instruction videos,” I added, scrolling through to one of the beginner ones. “The whole reason my living room is set up this way is because we used to do this all the time.”
“Yeah, I missed doing this,” Nikki said.
“Sorry,” I told her. “I’ll try not to bury myself in work like that again.”
“Not all of us can be superheroes,” Nikki said. “Might as well be you saving the world.”
Nikki tugged Ivan into a spot near the front. He looked really uncertain, but she had a way of lightening the mood that I had always adored and really hoped would work on my skittish little brother.
Not bad.
Do you dance?
Maybe. We’ll have to save that for our second or third date.
We are having lots of dates now?
I couldn’t help but smile at the idea.
Yes.
I like a man who plans ahead.
Then you’re going to love me.
“Jude, come on, join us,” Nikki said.
Gotta dance.
I put the phone down to join my brother and my best friend.
All the frustration of the past few days faded as I moved my body to the music, laughing over fails and cheering over wins as we ate cookies and danced until we were all sweating and exhausted.
I only thought about the SED case once, and Angel a dozen times, but my brother’s tentative smile was the best part of the whole evening.