Chapter 3
Vie
I watched Willow for three days without approaching her. I told myself it was because I wanted to get to know her and plan our reintroduction. The truth wasn’t so polite.
I was scared.
Right now, I could pretend she wouldn’t run screaming at the sight of me. I could weave all kinds of stories where she smiled and welcomed me into her life.
During the day, I lurked near her shop, occasionally slipping in to watch her while I floated against the ceiling. My presence drove off customers, so I limited myself to a few times a day.
I spent my night standing next to her bed, watching her sleep. I knew she couldn’t see me, not in that absolute darkness, but maybe she could sense me. It gave me hope that our connection might go both ways.
“I’ve been looking for you, Vie.”
My favorite brother materialized next to me, dressed in an immaculate suit. I was in my usual dark cargo pants and a new hoodie.
The person walking on the sidewalk behind me wasn’t startled by my brother’s sudden appearance. Unlike the rest of us, he seemed to have a special magic that made people think he’d always been there or never been there. He could appear or disappear anywhere, and no one ever gave him a second look.
We all envied that power.
“Pain,” I greeted him without looking away from Willow’s shop door.
I was a Wraith of Violence, feeding on those who were full of cruelty and brutality.
This brother was the Wraith of Pain, feeding off the misery of sickness and death.
Unlike the way I fed, which consumed my victims whole, Pain pulled from hospice patients.
His feeding gave them relief in their last days.
I couldn’t imagine being around dying people all the time, but he thought the way I consumed my victims whole was disgusting.
Each wraith had their favorite food.
“Please try to use my human name,” he admonished me gently.
Every few decades, he picked a human name. He was fussy about these things and because I liked him, I tried to remember.
“Asher,” I said. “Now go away, I’m busy.”
“Busy staring at a door,” Asher commented, moving so he could sit next to me on the short wall that separated the sidewalk from the strip mall parking lot.
It was a bright, sunny day, making Asher seem even more pale than normal in contrast. I knew I’d look the same if I wasn’t hiding my face inside my hood.
“Yes, I’m staring at a door,” I agreed. “It’s boring and pointless. Don’t you have a hospice to hang out in?”
Asher sighed. “I can’t feed all the time. Unlike you and Sorrow, I need other stimulation. There is a fascinating exhibit at the museum of contemporary art. Would you like to go with me?”
I snorted. “No.”
Asher liked art, music, books, plays, and anything creative.
He believed that creativity was the height of humanity, and it was everyone’s obligation to appreciate it.
Occasionally, I’d let him drag me to something, but it always ended the same.
He would go on and on about what we’d experienced, and I’d point out how unrealistic it was.
He’d get annoyed and call me a philistine.
I’d leave, and we wouldn’t see each other for a few years.
I didn’t understand why he kept trying. He probably didn’t either.
“If you don’t want to see the art exhibit, then I guess I’ll join you here,” Asher said, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared intensely at Willow’s shop door. “That is an exceedingly interesting door.”
“You’re being—” I was going to tell Asher how annoying he was being, but the door opened, interrupting my words. The same customer I saw enter an hour ago stepped out, hands full of bags. Behind her was Willow, also carrying many bags.
She followed the woman to a large SUV, then helped her pile everything into the vehicle. She was laughing at something the woman said before waving goodbye and walking back into the store.
Her black hair gleamed in the sun, swinging loosely around her shoulders. Today she was wearing a loose peasant blouse, figure hugging jeans, and sandals.
I adored her collection of tight jeans.
“Ah, I see,” Asher said. “It’s not the door that’s so interesting, but what’s behind the door. She’s very pretty.”
Uncontrollable rage had me turning and grabbing my brother by the throat. Standing up, I lifted him into the air and shook him.
“Don’t touch her!”
Asher disappeared from my grip and reappeared behind me. I turned to grab him again, but he shoved me hard enough to send me tumbling over the wall.
“Stop it, you emotionally stunted potato,” he grumbled.
This wasn’t the first time he’d called me emotionally stunted, but the potato comment was new and helped me shake off the rage.
“Sorry I grabbed you,” I said, stepping back over the wall and sitting back down. “She’s special. I, uh, feel strongly about her.”
Asher snorted. “No doubt. How long have you been lurking around her? Have you tried speaking to her? I’ve found that humans are generally much easier to get to know when you talk to them.”
I flashed an ancient insulting gesture at Asher, making him laugh.
“I talked to her,” I said. It had only been a few words during that first night, but I considered them important.
She also talked to me sometimes at night or when she was alone. At least I think she was talking to me. She spoke into the air, but it had to be to me.
Yes, she was definitely talking to me.
“I bet you said two words and consider that an entire conversation,” Asher teased. “You need to read more poetry.”
“What does poetry have to do with this?” I asked.
“The fact that you don’t know makes me sad enough to feed Sorrow,” Asher lamented dramatically.
“Sometimes you don’t make any sense,” I grumbled.
“Even though you turned me down for the art exhibit, I’m going to help you,” Asher declared. He turned and walked to the shop. I tried to grab him, but he disappeared and reappeared at the door.
Damn it! I was running across the parking lot, but he was already entering the store. He cast me a laughing grin before walking inside.
I wasn’t ready to interact with Willow yet. I still didn’t have enough information. I wasn’t prepared!
Instead of rushing through the door after Asher, I ducked around the back of the strip mall. There was a vent I could easily enter her shop through.
By the time I was floating in the shop, Asher was already charming Willow.
“Really, you met someone that looks like me?” Asher said, casting a quick glance up to where I was floating against the ceiling. “I’m sure he wasn’t as nicely dressed or handsome.”
Willow laughed, but I could tell it was a little forced. It made me feel better to know that Asher, even with all his charm, wasn’t pulling a genuine reaction from Willow.
“Are you looking for something?” Willow asked. “I don’t really carry stuff for men your size.”
“Sweetheart,” Asher said, opening his jacket to show off his matching vest, complete with pocket watch he’d bought brand new a hundred years ago. “No one carries clothing my size. Even my underwear has to be tailored.”
“Right,” Willow said with a nod, clearly not amused. “So it was nice to meet you, but I guess there’s nothing here for you.”
If I was in my human form, I would’ve laughed. Asher’s charm rarely failed. It was fun to watch Willow be completely unaffected.
“There are plenty of things here that I’m interested in,” Asher said.
Willow stiffened. “Oh?”
When he realized his flirting wasn’t working, Asher changed tactics. I watched his face morph into one of sincerity.
“There’s a woman in my life I like. I was thinking I could buy her a few things. What would you recommend?”
“What does she like?” Willow asked.
Asher answered without hesitation. “Soft things. She’s got a lot of soft sweaters and blankets. She also likes purple. It’s her favorite color.”
Was there really a woman in Asher’s life? How interesting!
Willow nodded at Asher’s words, obviously relieved he might have a legitimate reason to be in her shop.
“I have these,” Willow said, leading him over to a display of pashminas.
Asher ended up picking out a purple and blue pashmina and asked Willow to gift wrap it for him.
She ignored his questions or answered them with noncommittal comments.
The moment he left, her shoulders sagged a little, and she dug something out from behind the register. I watched her tug on my hoodie.
Asher made her cold, and she sought warmth from my hoodie!
That, more than anything, gave me the courage I needed to approach her. I’d wait until it was near closing, then see if she would talk to me.
I flowed back through the vent, rematerialized behind the strip mall, then jogged around to find Asher waiting for me against the wall.
“She’s pretty,” he said when I approached.
“She’s perfect,” I countered. How dare he use the same word for Willow as someone might use for a painting?
Asher dipped his head. “I understand why you think so. Call me if you need any help with her. Words have never been your strength.”
My lips curved. “She didn’t like you or your words.”
“Perhaps not,” Asher snapped. I’d hit him in a vulnerable spot, his ego. “But it’ll be interesting to see if you can control yourself long enough to garner her interest or if you’ll end up scaring her away.”
Then he disappeared.
“Enjoy your scarf!” I yelled into the air with a laugh. “It’ll look good with your navy-blue suit.”
I could feel his annoyance and then I didn’t feel his presence anymore. He’d left, and I won.
I settled in to watch the shop again. I didn’t need Asher’s help with Willow. The fact that she was in there right now wearing my hoodie was proof of that!
It was later in the afternoon, and Willow’s shop had a steady stream of customers all day. I sighed and slipped my hand into my pocket and rubbed the button I’d found between thumb and finger. Her scent had worn off the plastic disk, but it had become a comforting talisman to me.