Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Asoft knock comes at the door, and I know it’s Mabel before she even says anything. I wipe my eyes, surprised there’s not even a single tear left on my lashes, and inhale.
“Wren?” she asks, voice slightly muffled through the closed door. “Are you okay?” Her hand lands on the doorknob, jiggling it slightly. “Sorry. That was a dumb question. I know you’re not.”
“You can come in,” I say quietly, knowing she can hear me.
I flop back down on the bed, getting an eerie flashback to when I first arrived at this house.
Things have changed so much, but yet they’ve stayed the same.
I wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place; I was supposed to be used to unlock the demon.
How different would things be if I hadn’t been sold off to Xavier instead of Larissa?
The door opens and closes quietly as Mabel comes into the room. She gently sits down on the bed next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“I didn’t want to let the demon out,” I say, voice void of emotion.
“But he would’ve taken your soul,” Mabel replies.
“We don’t know that,” I counter. “My time wasn’t up. I could’ve found another option. There are always more options.”
“You’re right,” she agrees, and I’m surprised she’s not arguing with me. “There are always endless options. But what were they?”
“I don’t know,” I admit slowly, inhaling. “But I would’ve figured something out.”
“Maybe now you can kill the demon instead of keeping him locked up,” Mabel suggests. “I mean, isn’t that better? If they’re locked up, they can get out. But if they’re dead, they can’t come back from the dead.” She tips her head. “Well, when you’re talking about demons, sometimes they can.”
I chuckle softly. “Yeah, sometimes they can. I’m not going to be able to kill him, Mabel. He was locked up for a reason.”
“Yeah, but you have your hunter brothers on your side.”
“And my coven has magic.” I turn my head, looking at her, hoping she realizes I’m not trying to argue for the sake of being difficult. I’m being realistic. “If they could’ve killed him, they would have.”
“Well, let’s stick to what we know,” Mabel says and lies down next to me.
“We know he was in prison. We know he was put in there once, so we know he can be put back again. We don’t know how many witches it took to put him in there, and we don’t know the extent of those witches’ demon-hunting skills. ”
“Stop being logical and let me wallow.”
“Okay.” She nods her head. “This sucks. We’re all gonna die, so we might as well just walk into the sun tomorrow. Well, wait. I’ll walk into the sun. You do whatever your preferred form of suicide is.”
My expression blanks and I blink several times. “Okay, don’t let me wallow.”
Mabel links her fingers through mine and just lies there in silence with me for a few moments. The fact that she’s so kind and patient and understanding, like a friend should be, makes me emotional.
And the fact that it makes me emotional is pathetic.
Having a friend like this is a foreign concept not only to me, but to a lot of people in the Order. We’re taught that human relationships and getting close to people are a form of weakness. I’ve always questioned it because it quite literally defies the way humans are wired.
We’re not supposed to be alone.
We’re supposed to have somebody to get through life with, whether that’s a romantic partner or a friend. It’s unnatural to go through life alone. A quote by Charles Bukowski stuck with me when I was young, and it still sticks with me now.
And when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?
The Order sold it as freedom. Sold it as being self-sufficient and uncompromising.
But doing something you normally wouldn’t do for someone you love is strength, not weakness.
Tolerating things you don’t like so the person you love can enjoy them is selflessness, not losing yourself.
I can’t think of anymore that defines a person more than the ability to love someone greater than themself—and still maintain a sense of identity.
Not everyone can be that emotionally intelligent, though.
I can see now why the Order discouraged relationships and friendships and trusting each other beyond trusting our literal lives in someone else’s hands when we were out in the field on a hunt.
Because when you’re close to someone, you can share the thoughts they don’t want spoken out loud.
And when you know you’re not the only one questioning things, action can happen.
“Can I ask you something?” Mabel breaks the silence, turning her head toward me.
“You can,” I reply, offering a slight smile. “Can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough,” she chuckles. A few more seconds of silence pass before she squeezes my hand. “I know you’re mad at Xavier for forcing you to open the door,” she begins. “But do you think that’s the whole reason you’re mad?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe there’s a part of you that knew this was the only way things could go.
There’s a part of you that knows you had to release this demon.
So instead of being mad at him, you’re just mad at the situation.
Maybe there’s even a part of you that knows locking him up wasn’t the best solution from the start.
When something’s in a cage, there’s always a chance it can get out.
” She pauses. “I know I just said all that, but I can’t stop thinking that maybe you’re mad because Xavier did what you couldn’t.
And it’s what you knew had to be done. So, in a way, maybe you’re also mad at yourself. ”
I stare at the ceiling, noticing a tiny dried paint drip near the chandelier. How many times has this room been painted? I let her words sink in, and once again, I’m taken aback by how introspective Mabel can be.
She’s right.
At the end of the day, I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it, and that was a consequence I would’ve had to live with. I don’t know what would happen if a demon took my soul. I don’t know if I’d turn evil. I don’t know if I’d suddenly succumb to the dark side and turn on everyone I love.
I’ve never really considered myself a dangerous person because I have a somewhat decent moral compass, but magic aside, I have the skills and abilities to cause major destruction. And if I add in the fact that I’m newly discovering my powers…
Could I have been used to open every single door the Blackwoods closed?
“You don’t have to answer right now,” Mabel says, giving my hand another squeeze. “Right now, you need a shower, and I’m gonna order some food for you and your brothers.”
“Do I stink?” I ask.
Mabel laughs. “No, but sometimes a shower can metaphorically wash things away.”
“True.” I pick up several strands of my hair and sniff them. “It does kind of smell like smoke.”
“It does,” she agrees. “But not in a bad way, I suppose. I mean, it’s going to remind you of a warehouse that burned because a demon came out with hellfire from a crack in the ground.”
We turn and look at each other for several seconds before we both laugh, knowing how insanely ridiculous that sounds out loud.
“Thank you,” I say, rolling onto my side.
“You don’t have to thank me.” Mabel smiles. “It might be weird for me to say this, but I’m glad I have the opportunity to be your friend.”
“It’s not weird, because I’m glad too.”
The words get choked up on their way out, and tears spring to my eyes.
But instead of sucking it up and telling myself to knock it off like usual, I bring my knees to my chest and cry.
Mabel puts an arm around me, hugging me while I do.
I give myself a whole sixty seconds of crying before I sniffle, inhale, and force myself out of bed.
I could shower in here, and I’m sure there’s still a fluffy pink robe in the closet, but all of my clothes are in the room I share with Xavier. I stop at the threshold of the bathroom, looking in.
“All the boys are gone,” Mabel says, somehow knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “Well, except for your brother.”
“Okay.” I take a breath, fighting back more tears. I leave the room and walk down the hall, not stopping as I pass Antonio’s room. The door is closed but not latched, and I can hear the TV playing in the background.
He’s watching reruns of The Office, his go-to, feel-good, I-don’t-want-to-think-about-anything show.
Grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a cropped black T-shirt, I go into the bathroom.
I turn on the water and stand beneath it for probably way too long before I finally wash myself and get out.
I dry my hair and twist it into a messy bun on top of my head.
Male voices float up the stairs as I make my way down the hall, and I pause for just a second before continuing, not wanting to see Xavier. But the hesitation makes a knot form in my stomach. Other than when I first got here and hated his guts, I’ve always wanted to be near him.
I don’t have many healthy relationships to compare ours to—or really any relationships, if I’m being honest—but is this something we can come back from?
Maybe Mabel’s right, and he did what I couldn’t do. That doesn’t make the break in trust any less real.
“Hey,” Antonio says when I come into the kitchen.
He’s sitting with Leo, and there’s an obscene amount of Chinese takeout spread across the counter.
Leo looks at me, and his face breaks into sadness.
For a split second, relief washes over me as I go to him, thinking he’s going to pull me into a reassuring hug and tell me everything is going to be okay in a very Leo way.
But then anger takes over his face, and he shakes his head, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“I didn’t think you’d actually fucking do it,” he says coldly.
Mabel, who’s sitting on the edge of the counter curiously eyeballing all the food, stiffens.
“You released the demon, Wren,” Leo goes on.
“Hey.” Antonio holds up his hands. “This isn’t Wren’s fault.”