Chapter 6
Chapter Six
HELLO, DEAR SISTER
ORIE
Shit, I’ve spent all day debating if I text Raya about the art show, and now it’s nearly midnight. Tossing and turning won’t get me anywhere, and neither will avoiding this man, unfortunately.
How am I going to play this? I need to be smart. I can’t have Raya—or Gods forbid, Carson—finding out my real reason for wanting to go to the art show.
These feelings…
I don’t want anyone in Harmony Glen to be scared. What if I can’t control them, and they become dangerous? I don’t want to be dangerous anymore.
I don’t want anything to change.
Damn it, I have to go to that art show. If I’m going to figure this out before Orian gets here, I need to observe Carson as much as I can.
Both with his knowledge, and without.
I shoot Raya a text.
Will you and (or) Arman join me at an art show in town in a few days?
Pretty please with cherries on top? <3
Her response comes through pretty quickly, meaning she must not be streaming right now. Sometimes I lose track of her schedule, even though she’s had the same one since I’ve known her.
You want me to leave my house AGAIN this week?!
Before I can respond and continue begging, her typing bubbles appear. My thumbs hover above the keypad, waiting to see what she sends.
We’ll come, but only if we can get poutine for the next movie night!
I can’t help but laugh a little at her text. There aren’t many foods we disagree on, but poutine is one that she loves and I think is just mediocre. Even so, the travel to Canada will be easy and worth it to have them join me at the art show.
You have yourself a deal. OH, and this was your idea, if anyone asks!!
***
I don’t respond to her last text of question marks, just turn off my phone and toss it aside. Staring at the ceiling, I try to focus on anything besides Carson’s presence, which dares to dominate my mind.
The battle is a losing one. A buzzing I can’t ignore flows through my body. Gods, how I wish I could turn off this tracking, if I can even call it that when it’s not by choice.
Something shifts in the darkness of my room, and I bolt upright. Eyes that I haven’t seen in quite some time appear across the room.
“Hello, dear sister.”
Reaching over, I flick on my lamp, narrowing my eyes as they adjust to the light.
Orian stands across the room, one arm raised to shield himself from the unexpected illumination.
He looks the same as the last time I saw him, except for a few new scars. What kind of trouble has he found himself in since I last saw him? Maybe I’m finally not the troublemaker of the two of us.
“Hello, brother.”
His arm falls to his side, and he pops his other hand onto his hip. Glancing around, he shakes his head, sighing. “Your room is a mess.”
I roll my eyes. “Nice to see you, too.”
Walking across the room, he leans on my dresser, crossing his arms in front of him. “So, what’s going on?”
Where to start? Do I tell him everything I’ve been feeling recently? Do I mention the cause, this Carson guy?
Or do I keep it simple and relatively secret?
“Continuing our conversation from the phone the other night,” I say hesitantly, watching for any shift in his body language. “Sing integrating into the human world, have you ever tracked someone’s presence?”
He stares off, his eyebrows furrowing as if he’s racking every memory in his brain. The longer he stares, the more frustration grows inside me. Is he really here to help me, or is he here to be the dickhead he’s always been?
I sniffle loudly, and on purpose, drawing his attention over. As his gaze snaps to me, he rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Can you be patient? For once? I’ve lived a lot in our minimal years.”
“Still killing?” I ask it with a laugh, as if it’s a joke, but my laughter dies out, silence engulfing us. There’s truth in the question. I’m curious.
“No.” The word is strong, his tone firm.
I nod twice. “Same.”
“Not once?” he asks, looking me over.
“Nope.” I raise a brow. “You?”
He shakes his head. “No. Been close, though.”
This is my moment. I can see how…human his emotions are. How deeply they run, if they dominate him, or if he’s in total control.
“Almost lose control in a bar fight, or something?” I press, giving a smile to ease some of the tension.
His shoulders fall, and he adjusts the way he leans against the wood. “No. I had a girlfriend who kept getting herself into trouble. I had to protect her, no matter the cost.”
Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there.
“Girlfriend?” I gawk, my jaw dropping involuntarily.
He tilts his head and raises both brows at me. “That’s what I said, and you would’ve known, had you not pulled a disappearing act on me.”
Riiight.
I guess he would be a little sensitive that I cut him out of my life only a few months into our integration with humanity. It wasn’t a pretty parting. There was a lot of anger, a lot of cutthroat words.
Something bubbles and grows inside me at the memory of the last time we spoke. Something I had to learn as I adapted to human life—a life out of the shadows.
Guilt. Remorse.
“Part of me wanted to say, I told you so right when I got here,” he says, and I open my mouth to cuss him out, but he keeps going. “But when I got here, I didn’t want to anymore. It didn’t feel right.”
I blink at him. “How come?”
He lifts an arm from where it was just crossed, holding a finger out and smirking. “Because you needing my help, calling me—which you could only do because you kept my number after ghosting me—was enough of an I told you moment for me.”
Okay, so he’s still a dickhead.
“Kept it just in case I ever needed it.” I brush past the statement as quickly as I can, clearing my throat before continuing. “Can you answer my question, please?”
“I have tracked people before, but always willingly, like the days of our…past.” Finally, an answer. “I find I’m less accurate now, since it’s not a skill I particularly care to hone anymore.”
Well, fuck me, I guess.
This would be so much easier if Orian had experienced what I’m going through. Easier to deal with, easier to get over. Is this going to be yet another thing he rubs in my face?
“I…have been.” I let out a deep breath. Before I can think, the truth flows out of me. “The past few days, there’s a guy, he just got here, but I can feel him, I can sense him. It’s consuming me. I’ve gone to the forest—”
Orian holds out a hand, frantically waving it side to side.
“Wait, wait, wait—are you stalking him?” The cackle he lets out causes him to toss his head backward.
He grips the dresser with one hand, the other flying to his face and covering his eyes as his laugh grows stronger.
Behind him, his tail whips against the wood, thumping loudly.
“Can you knock it off, asshole?” I shout, curling my fists and standing on the mattress.
When he pulls his hand from his eyes, he smirks more as he sees me standing—pajamas and all—on the mattress. “You look as tough as always, dear sister. Those geometric-patterned pajamas really scream fear me.”
I glance down, letting my fists loosen at my sides. He may have a point. In this moment, I am definitely not threatening at all. But he’s wrong about my pajama pattern.
“First of all, it’s crystal patterned, not geometric.” I point with intent at various parts of the pattern on my pants. “Second of all, can we please focus? I’m having a major crisis, and I didn’t call you here to make fun of me.”
He raises his hands defensively in front of his chest. “Okay, fine. I’ll catch up on the sibling teasing later.”
“How do I control something stronger than any feelings I’ve experienced before?” The question sounds dumb coming out of my mouth, and even dumber since it’s directed at my brother.
We’ve been in competition our entire lives—all shadow demons are—so why would he help me be, well, better?
He pushes off the dresser and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, patting the duvet. Hesitantly, I sit down, crossing my legs, my tail curling around me.
His eyes scan my face, and his lips thin for a moment before he lets out a sigh. “I wish I had an answer for you, Orie, I really do. I don’t, though. What I can offer you is my support and ideas. I’ll stay here for a while with you until this either all blows over or you get control over it.”
I blink at him, looking for signs of insincerity…but I don’t see any. Arguably, he looks the most serious he ever has.
“Really?” My voice is quieter than ever, and I feel strange.
My eyes…hurt? But there’s no pain. My vision blurs. Have I been put under some sort of spell? Has Orian done something to me?
Through the blur, I see him nod. “Of course, you’re my sister. Or, have you forgotten that since we integrated with the human world?”
There’s a tightness in my chest as his words loop in my head. I haven’t forgotten that he was my brother—my twin, no less—but I didn’t think that mattered. It never mattered before.
We’ve always been at odds. We’ve always fought, always tried to best each other, and even tried to sabotage each other occasionally. Now, he’s implying that I’ve forgotten that we are family?
“I didn’t realize our blood connection mattered so much to you,” I scoff, narrowing my eyes at him, which also doubles as trying to fight off this blurry vision.
He shakes his head. “The strain on our relationship wasn’t just on me, Orie, so don’t sit there and act like it was. We are grown now. We’ve taken a new path for shadow demons, so why don’t we take a new path and actually be siblings for once?”
I touch my face, my fingertips hesitantly reaching my eyes and coming back wet. Bringing my knuckle over my eye, the same sensation smears along the backside.
Am I crying?
This is a strange sensation. Yet another thing I can’t control. My life feels like it’s spiraling out of control. The peace I’ve surrounded myself with is slipping away.
All because of my own mind.
“Let me meet this guy before we decide anything.” Orian’s voice breaks me from the invasive thoughts. “If he gives me bad vibes, we—or I—will deal with him.”
I wipe away the tears, bringing back my clear vision. “What if he doesn’t give you bad vibes?”
He gives me a small smile. “Then we figure out why you're feeling the things you’re feeling, and how you can manage them.”
Even though I called him for help, I wasn’t expecting such…understanding from him. He’s different from before. The years have changed him, or maybe he really has become grounded in his humanity.
Maybe I was never better than him, like I thought—though I won’t be admitting that.
All I know right now is how grateful I am. That much I can tell him.
“I am truly grateful you’re here, brother,” I choke out, the words feeling like a foreign language.
His eyes widen a bit before he blinks at me. “I’m grateful you called. I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again, and the way we left things is one of my biggest regrets.”
For the first time, I smile at him, a genuine smile. Now I feel much more willing to make an admittance of my own. “Mine too.”
“Now…” He stands, clasping his hands together and stretching his arms above his head. “Where will I be staying?”
You have got to be kidding me. He didn’t plan? It took him that long to get here—which could’ve been done in mere seconds with shadow travel—and he didn’t even book a hotel or something?
I guess it’ll be a minimal sleep kind of night.