“She gave you a draught,” he observed, stepping into place beside me.
“Yes, I’m going to use it as soon as we return.”
He stayed silent until we entered my chamber and I lay on my bed, uncertain why the instructions were so specific.
Vraul looked hesitant. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, I can’t live like this. I may as well perish now, Vraul.”
He nodded. “May I go with you? Just to be sure that you’re safe.”
Sighing, I figured it mattered little at this point if he saw Evan. “Yes.”
His back straightened as Vraul smiled. “Proceed.”
I sat on my bed and pulled the stopper from the vial, eyeing the pale ruby contents with unease. Inside the bottle little lightning bolts zapped through the current as it sloshed. A mystical glow cast an amber color to the surface.
Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the contents in one gulp and fell back as the vial slipped from my fingers, rolling onto the blackened ground. Pain seized all the muscles in my body at once and I screamed, stiffening as Vraul rushed to my side. The agony was short lived as I began to relax. A rush of energy surged and pulsed over the surface of my skin until I no longer felt pain. Exhaling a deep breath, I gripped his hand and squeezed.
“I’m alright, Vraul.”
The anxious look on his face didn’t fade for several minutes. “How are you feeling now?”
“Better. Now I understand why she gave specific instructions.” I slipped from Vraul’s arms and stood, flexing my muscles. “Let’s go.”
Disappearing into my shield, I grabbed Vraul’s hand. Mere seconds later we stood on the beach and faced Evan’s house. He stood on the balcony, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his dark jeans. The wind blew his hair into a messy disarray while his beautiful blue eyes seemed to search the horizon.
Was he looking for me?
The thought was heartbreaking. Using my shield, I was by his side in less than a second.
“Evan,” I breathed, reaching out to touch his arm when my fingers passed right through his body. Shocked, I tried again, only to find the same result.
“Ari, what’s the matter?”
“I can’t . . . I’m not visible to Evan,” I choked.
“I don’t understand.”
“Vraul, I can’t touch or feel him. It’s like I’m a ghost.” Tears filled my eyes. “She knew this. Ursal knew. I should have been more specific when I asked my questions.”
Devastated, I sank to my knees and began to sob, my head falling forward. I’d never be able to carry a conversation with Evan again. His lips would never press to mine.
This was a disaster.
“Why would he need to see or hear you, Ari?” Vraul pulled me to my feet and tilted my chin up. “Why?”
“Ari,” Evan whispered, turning our way. He inhaled, closing his eyes briefly. “I can feel you like you’re here. This is crazy,” he continued as he shook his head. “I wish you were real.”
Evan left the balcony to walk into his room as I felt tears dripping down my cheeks. I didn’t realize I was crying until Vraul wiped my cheeks with his big calloused hands.
“Ari, please answer me.” Vraul’s voice sounded strained.
“Because I . . . fell in love with him, Vraul,” I whispered, shocked by the admission but certain it was the truth.
“What?” He asked, the flames in his eyes glowing brighter as Vraul slammed his fist into the brick façade of the house. Luckily for us, the damage was only supernatural. Evan would never know.
“I think you heard me.” My heart felt like it was shattering into a thousand pieces. “I’m in love with a human.”
8
Evan
“Ari?”
A gush of wind blew across my balcony and I could swear I heard her sweet voice.
“I can feel you. This is crazy.” My eyes closed briefly and reopened as I shook my head. “I wish you were real.”
This was stupid.
I’d fallen in love with a ghost.
Twenty-three years old and my entire life was work and taking care of my sick mother. My only hobby was my motorcycle and tinkering around in the garage with bike and car parts and my old truck. Most of my friends had moved on to college out of state, fulltime jobs, or started a family. I was the only one who hadn’t moved on or changed much since high school. Sure, I had a great job but that was the extent of my identity.
Disgusted, I spun on my heel and entered my room, sliding the glass door shut with a loud bang. Restless, I debated on going for a ride but in the end, I wasn’t in the mood. A dark cloud seemed to hang overhead, and I was in a foul temper. Unlike my father, I could handle my shit, but I wasn’t fit for company and ended up in bed early, falling asleep on the couch downstairs as I watched reruns of Friends.
The next morning, I was late to work. I parked my beat-up truck with faded red paint at the site, pissed I overslept. I never drove my motorcycle to work and it made sense to have something to haul groceries and tools. My boss was waiting and chewed my ass out for ten minutes.
Mumbling an apology, I joined the crew.
At lunch I ate my sandwiches as I sat on the tailgate, ignoring the blonde with fake tits that helped out my boss with payroll and office paperwork. She tried to flirt with me plenty in the past, but I wasn’t into that type. I preferred naturally pretty girls with cute smiles, sweet voices, and dark eyes that sparkled with mischief.
Damn.
Ari slipped into my thoughts so easily I didn’t try to fight it. Sighing as I took a swig from my thermos, I wondered for the hundredth time in the last few weeks if I was crazy. Maybe if I only saw her in my dreams, I’d be quick to admit that was possible. Ari didn’t just appear in my dreams though. She saved my life that day I was jumped, and she was in my room that first time we kissed. I’d seen her a few times in reality so the only thing that made sense was that she didn’t want to be with me.
The sucker punch to my gut at the thought soured the coffee I’d just drank in my stomach.
“Ari,” I whispered in the wind, “don’t stay away forever.”
It wasn’t a prayer, not really. I wasn’t a religious guy and didn’t attend church. My heart was the one to blame. The ache in my chest proof I longed for her touch and presence. No other girl lingered in my thoughts the way Ari had wiggled her way into my affection. I’d had a few brief flings but nothing that lasted long. Maybe I was waiting for the right one.
Two hours later my boss approached, and I hoped he wasn’t still angry. As I saw his serious gaze, I frowned. “What’s up?”
“There’s a phone call for you in my office.”
Strange.
“Alright, I’ll be right there.”
Mr. Jones followed me into the trailer that traveled with us from site to site as I picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Evan Porter.”
“Evan? You aren’t answering your cell.”
The frantic voice of my mother’s nurse greeted me as she started speaking rapidly in Spanish.
“Rosita, I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying,” I interrupted. My phone was on vibrate in my truck so I wouldn’t be distracted.
“Your mother . . . she’s not responding hijo.”
Not responding? What the hell?
“What do you mean? What’s happening?” I yelled.
“Come right home, Evan. Come now!”
Freaked out, I didn’t hesitate to run from the trailer and hop into my truck, peeling out of the gravel drive as the tires skid along the ground to find traction. A million thoughts ran through my head in that fifteen-minute drive. Every scenario. Every dread I could conjure.
Nothing was as brutally devastating as the truth.
My mother was dead.
Ari
* * *
Evan!
His name echoed in my head as my heart constricted with the devastating news. His mother passed away in the late morning as the nurse clean
ed the kitchen and prepared food for meals over the next few days. It was obvious she cared for Evan and his mother, Theresa. Her job duties didn’t include meals or housework, but she gladly donated her time to help them as often as she could.
A firetruck, paramedic, and several cruisers were parked in front of his house as Evan pulled into the drive. Ignoring the professionals who tried to calm him down, Evan ran into the house and up the stairs, falling on his knees next to his mother’s body. She’d been pronounced dead twenty minutes prior and I was glad he missed that part. Rosita couldn’t stop crying or shaking as Evan picked up his mother’s hand and wept.
Cursing my cruel fate, I slid next to him and rested my head on his shoulder, my own tears falling as I stayed pressed against his side. If only I could have been there for him in a tangible way. Time marched on as the room cleared and Evan talked to his mother, saying all the things he needed to deal with his grief.
Rosita offered to call the funeral home as Evan appeared distraught at the idea of handling the arrangements. Once they took his mother’s body away, he lay down on her bed, crying as he clutched her pillow close to his chest. He finally fell into a restless sleep as I watched over him.
The hours faded from day to night and back again, but I didn’t move and neither did Evan. Rosita managed to make him shower and eat something light, but he was a robot, moving through the motions as the shock set in.
My chest ached with his sorrow.
I couldn’t leave him alone to deal with Theresa’s funeral. Returning to my dark chambers, I promptly sent a petition to Ursal. Pacing occupied my time as I awaited her answer until Vraul appeared.
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in almost two human days.”
“With Evan.” My voice broke and I had a hard time finishing my sentence. “His mother died.”
Vraul crossed the room to my side and lifted a hand. He dropped it before replying. “You wish to join him.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, I can’t leave him to the sorrow on his own.”
Vraul turned away, his shoulders sagging slightly. “You’ve sent another petition to Ursal.”
“There’s no other choice, Vraul. I don’t want to remain a shadow forever. I can’t stay in limbo. It won’t be long before my father and brothers find out.”
We’d been avoiding them successfully, but I was on borrowed time.
A short rap against the door interrupted our conversation. Vraul opened the door and retrieved the communication from Ursal’s messenger. I read the note after he passed it my way and turned to Vraul. “She says she’s available now. We must hurry.”
Ursal was dressed similar to the first time we met. Violet purple and black twisting across her curvaceous figure, hugging her breasts and waist while clinging to her hips before ending in a swirl of color at her feet. She was already mixing ingredients next to her apothecary table, mumbling under her breath when we arrived.
“I don’t modify deals once they’ve been struck,” she announced, not bothering with a greeting.
I figured she would say something like that. The price would be high for this draught.
“I understand.”
“Ask what you seek.” She continued to move about, finishing her concoction.
“I want to be with Evan, in the flesh.”
“And your immortality?”
“I don’t need it.”
Vraul gasped, grabbing my arm and pulling me close. “Ari, don’t do this.”
Lifting a hand to his cheek, I gazed into his eyes. “I’m desperately unhappy, Vraul. Can you see that?”
He shook his head, but I could see the truth he tried to hide. “Forgive me, but I think this is foolish.”
“It’s my desire,” I insisted.
“You do this, and you will no longer be immortal,” Ursal pointed out. “All your powers will be stripped away but you will be free to be with your human lover.”
Vraul flinched, his eyes fading into darkness completely void of spark. “Ari.”
I didn’t care if it meant that I would be free. “That’s fine.”
The witch assessed me with calculating eyes. “You can never return home to your father or brothers. You will be fully human in every way. The Underworld will no longer let you pass over its boundaries.”
Vraul seemed pained.
“I understand,” I promised, my heart aching with the knowledge that Evan needed me. I’d give up everything for him. “Do it.”
The witch cackled as if she won a great prize and pressed the vial into my hands. Before I could ask about any instructions, she disappeared.
I placed a kiss on Vraul’s cheek and stepped back, drinking the pale blue liquid before I could change my mind.
9
Evan
I was numb.
Every emotion that should have surfaced in that moment never did.
As the casket that held my beloved mother lowered into the ground, I blinked and wished the tears would fall. Nothing happened.
Was this real? Was anything real anymore? Was it just a quick succession of nightmares meant to tear me apart until nothing remained? Was I cursed?
Would the torment never end?
I felt like I dangled by a thin thread and at any moment it would snap.
Pain and anger bubbled under my skin but didn’t reach the surface. Suspended in agony and without hope, my mind shut down. My emotions were nonexistent.
I just stared – at the casket, the numerous floral baskets and vases, the rain pouring in a steady drizzle as it soaked through my black suit jacket. I’m not sure if I even blinked for long minutes at a time. The pastor’s clear soft voice spoke of my mother’s life, her charity, her caring soul, and the family she left behind.
Me.
It was brutally true. I was all alone now. Nobody to care. No one to share my sorrow.
I almost laughed but caught myself before the bitter noise could leave my throat.
This couldn’t possibly be any worse.
Until I heard a voice I hadn’t in years. One that was gruff, deep, and held nothing but sour, angry, bitter memories that consumed me on an almost daily basis. The man who abandoned me and my mother, the one who broke us.
The father who broke me.
Turning, I was shocked to find a young woman at his side with a toddler on her hip. Two other small children watched as he approached. Gulping, I noticed their eyes were the same color as my own. A Porter family trait. My father has passed the gene down to every one of his offspring.
Cool blue eyes met mine and reflected sorrow.
My hands balled into fists as I ground out between clenched teeth. “Stay back.”
He stopped and shoved his hands into his dark slacks. I’d never known the man to wear anything other than jeans and work boots. He was a mechanic and didn’t dress up often.
“Evan, I’m . . . sorry –”
No, he didn’t get to do this. He wasn’t going to show up here and pretend that he cared about me or my mother. “Why are you here?” I interrupted coldly.
A sigh escaped as he ran a hand through his dark hair that was sprinkled with gray. He’d aged in the years since I’d seen him but the same could be said for me. I wasn’t the child he shoved around and yelled at, who was constantly underfoot and begging for his father’s attention. I’d never done anything right in his eyes, not since the moment of my birth. Hell, he couldn’t even be bothered to come to my high school graduation five years ago because he was drunk.
I was taller than him now, over six-foot-three compared to his six-foot-one. A pulse ticked in his jaw and the familiar action was one that proved his short fuse and brutal temper. His looks might have changed but he was the same asshole I’d known my entire life.
“You’re not welcome here.” The words were intentionally hostile.
“Eli,” the woman cautioned as he stepped closer, nearly to nose to nose with me. He ignored her quiet plea.
I wouldn’t be bullied by h
im or anyone else. Too much of that lingered in my haunted past. He wanted to intimidate me, exert his authority over my life once more, and it wasn’t possible anymore. I realized for the first time that I was the one in control now. He no longer held the power to break me down.
“Leave.”
The side of his lip curled up in a snarl as his hands rose. Images flashed before my eyes in only seconds. Every beating my mother took to protect me. Each night I watched her fade away as the cancer spread. My own howls of pain when he brought out the switch because I wasn’t fast or smart enough.
How dare he think he could come here with this new family and dangle them before my eyes like some kind of prize. He’d replaced me so easily. Not once did I hear from him or learn of my siblings. The man was ruthless and cold.
Hurt beyond comprehension, I did the one thing that had festered in my thoughts for years. The same thing my father excelled at and taught me well.
My fist balled before I realized I had done it. Swinging so fast I don’t think he saw it coming, I connected with his jaw and knocked his abusive ass to the ground. He hit the mud with a solid thud as shock registered on his face.
I didn’t feel any better. Hitting him didn’t solve a damn thing.
My mother was still dead.
His new girlfriend/wife gasped as she called to the children who yelled for their daddy. Shame overcame me. I should have held back. If no other reason than the three pairs of eyes that had seen enough violence in their youth to last a lifetime. They deserved more.
My gaze locked on the young woman as my shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry they saw that.”
Her lower lip trembled, and I noticed the heavy makeup she wore to hide the bruise on her cheekbone. “Eli wanted . . .”
I didn’t give a shit what he wanted. “Leave him. Run as far as you can so your children don’t end up a mess like me.” She opened her mouth to reply but I beat her to it. “Save them.”
My back straightened and I turned away, knowing there was nothing I could do if she didn’t heed my advice. Abuse only bred more monsters ready to tear the world apart. Didn’t my own anger and actions prove I was just as guilty?
Kingdom of Salt and Sirens Page 64
