by Ren Hamilton
“I’m serious! He looked Joey straight in the eye and challenged him. It was amazing. Joey ended up walking out of the bar. Wesley said Joey was testing his power and didn’t like what he saw.”
Robin paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Patrick? I want normal friends. Without special powers and secret pasts, friends that come from this world, with no connection to Shep.”
“I know how you feel.” He looked down at his plate. “Believe me, I know how you feel. I’m trying to start a new life but...then suddenly Litner’s at my door with Shep and his whole damned family, and suddenly my life’s in danger again.”
“Why?” she said. “Why is your life in danger? I missed a shitload of stuff, didn’t I?”
“You’re lucky,” he said. “But Litner says it’s over now. Least last I heard from him. He had some big to-do with Shep yesterday, that’s why they stopped by his house. I’ve been trying to reach Litner, but he hasn’t called me back.”
“So leave it,” Robin said. “You’re out. Stay out.”
Patrick put his fork down. “I want to. But my life’s been fairly...uninteresting lately. And I have to admit, the other night? When I was with them all again? Even though they freaked me the fuck out, it felt...more normal than I’ve felt in ages. I know it’s just memories of the way things used to be but...” His eyes showed vulnerability, even shame as he looked at her. “I spent so much of my life with these guys, Joey and Shep. I’m still processing that they’re my enemies. Even after everything that happened.”
She reached for his hand before she could stop herself, the familiar feel of her fingers curling around his like a warm blanket. “I get it,” she said. “Believe me. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. One of those guys is my family. Joey and I used to splash in a kiddie pool together in our underpants when we were three years old. And he’s like Frankenstein’s monster now. Do I still love him? Yes. But I hate him too. I get the confusion, my friend.”
He gripped her hand. “Another thing to add to the mix. I still can’t get used to being just your friend.”
She held his gaze, and could have easily fallen into it. But the taste of Juris was still on her lips, the feel of his hands on her body. It would be dishonest to encourage Patrick. Juris dumped you. He used you then he dumped you. He played you, like an easy mark.
It infuriated her suddenly, the one emotion she’d kept at bay since reading his text. He had a little bump in the road and suddenly could act like nothing had happened between them? Like what she thought didn’t matter? Well, fuck Juris. I’d like to. I’d like to be doing that right now.
She let go of Patrick’s hand. “I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”
He nodded, eyes cast down. “I’m sorry.” He looked at her, tilting his chin up. “But I think you know I’m still in love with you. It was real for me, no matter what was going on at the time.”
The waitress arrived at that inopportune moment and asked if they needed more drinks. They both declined, and when she’d gone, Robin looked at Patrick, but he was looking anywhere but at her.
“In love?” she said softly.
His blue eyes regarded her shyly. “I’m not trying to put more pressure on you. But I figured after all you’ve been through, you deserved some honesty at the very least.”
Tears welled, but she bit them back. “I cannot believe you feel that way about me, after everything I’ve put you through.”
He laughed. “Yes, I know. You’ve got some competition for that loser of the month award.”
“You’re not a loser,” she said. He looked at her with open longing, and she was stunned. How could this man still want her? “You’re the best,” she said.
“Just not in bed, right?”
It was like he’d punched her in the gut. She stood, grabbed her purse, and threw some cash on the table. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Robin, oh shit. I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. I’m a douche, please don’t leave.”
“No.” She held a hand up. “It’s me who’s sorry. You deserve better than this.”
“Robin!” he called out as she left the restaurant.
Her heart ached as she drove home. What the hell had she just done? Sat with Patrick and told him how much she loved screwing Juris? She was a shit. An asshole. And still he looked at her with those kind blue eyes and said he was in love with her. Part of her wished she’d just gone home with him, and wrapped herself up in his strong body, let him keep her safe from the world.
When she got home she immediately went for the wine, pouring herself a hefty glass. Sitting on the couch with her computer, she checked her email, then scrolled social media for a while. After finishing her wine too quickly, she started feeling bold, and her thoughts swirled with soft platinum hair and a tight body that brought her to heights of pleasure she’d never experienced.
He’s alive because someone in your family is dead.
She recalled their post coital discussion, Juris stroking her face as he spoke, those soft tones, that alluring way he formed his words. “I see things differently now. Because of you.” He’d said it, but did he mean it? Was it just pillow talk, telling her what she wanted to hear? Was it all just pretense…let’s bag the chick who fucked your brother, she’s probably easy?
She shouldn’t have had another glass of wine, but she poured one anyway. And after a few sips, eyed her phone. Do not drink and dial. But as her buzz thickened, she became indignant, and picked up the phone. After rereading Juris’s text three more times, she hit ‘respond’, and stared at the screen. Another sip of liquid courage, and she began to type. ‘Fuck you. You used me.’ She hit send, gritting her teeth.
Feeling strangely triumphant, she shut her phone off and stumbled into bed.
Chapter Sixteen
The dawn brought bird song, soft light beaming through the window, illuminating the curls of the three brothers, who sat cross legged on the floor. Juris watched Margol and Klee, their faces ripe with shock from what he’d told them. Though they all throbbed with grief and confusion, there was something comforting about being back at Shep’s house in Boston. He’d never admit it to his beloved brother, but Juris hated the confines of their home in the mountain. He’d been assigned to supervise the beer brewing, and hadn’t been able to go out as much as the others. He liked being back in Boston, among the thrumming life of this world.
“Do you think it’s true?” Klee asked softly, all of them keenly aware that their brother, Shep, was finally asleep after a night of sobbing. “Maybe it’s all just a lie to deceive us. Maybe the Schlarr is in on it.”
“I can’t feel him,” Margol said. “If Allisto had been sent back to this world, I would feel him.”
“I don’t feel him either,” Juris said. He sighed, a human gesture he’d involuntarily picked up. Leaning his back against his bed, he looked at his brothers. “Shep was quick on his feet with the Schlarr, suggesting they send Allisto here, so we can at least determine what the truth is. But if they are sending him here, it hasn’t happened yet. We would all feel his presence.”
“Then maybe it’s not true,” Klee said in a teary voice. “It hurts enough not having him here. I cannot believe he’d...he’d...”
“Try to kill us all?” Margol said snidely.
“Do not say that,” Klee said, then fell apart weeping. “Allisto would never.”
Juris reached for Klee and pulled him into his arms. “Don’t cry. If Allisto is still alive, and even if he did this thing, I’m sure there is a reason.”
“What reason?” Margol asked, his green eyes hard and unyielding. “What reason could there be to order our assassination? There’s no forgiving it.”
“Margol,” Juris said sternly. “Do we not owe him the opportunity to explain? What if he was deceived? The Schlarr said he was tortured. Punished. And that now he is mad and not thinking with clarity. Perhaps something messed with his mind. We don’t know. He deserves a chance to be heard. He is s
till our brother.”
“And how does Zirub feel about it?” Margol asked.
Juris patted Klee’s back as his weeping subsided. “He’s as confused as any of us. He doesn’t want to believe this. None of us do. We suffered enough when we lost Allisto. If this is all some deceit, then those that would give it are pigs for striking us in this wound.”
“But I miss Allisto,” Klee said. “If there’s a chance he’s coming back to us...”
“There’s a chance he tried to kill us,” Margol said stonily. “There’s a chance he’ll try to kill us still.”
“Where would he come through?” Juris said. “The Cripulet has been destroyed.”
“If the Schlarr are involved, they have connections that go high,” Margol said. “They could make it happen, anywhere, any time. But they’d have to make him flesh again. It would be painful.”
“Oh,” Klee moaned. “I don’t want Allisto to experience any more pain.”
“Look,” Juris said. “We all love and mourn for Allisto. But we must prepare ourselves that his betrayal may be valid. And we must remember that our allegiance is to Zirub. To Shep. Our brother and our leader.”
“Agreed,” Margol said. “Where is the chosen one?”
“Joey is still on the floor, sleeping in Shep’s room,” Juris said. “For some reason, Shep found his presence comforting, and Joey has been vigilant.”
Margol huffed. “Of course he has. Shep needs him again. He’s in his glory.”
“If Joey gives him comfort right now, then so be it,” Juris said.
“We are his family!” Margol’s teeth clenched as he spoke. “He is just a human vessel. Shep should turn to us for comfort, not Joey!”
“Shep has spent many earth years with Joey as his companion. The chosen one is flawed, yes, but he is faithful. That is all we can ask.”
“He’s a drunk and he’s a burden,” Margol said. “We’d be better off with Wesley, at least he has a pure energy. Joey’s energy is foul and negative.”
“Wesley tried to push Zirub back into the void!” Klee said in a harsh whisper. “Bite your tongue, Margol, we are to hate the original chosen one.”
“Really?” Margol said. “Shep still loves him. You know it. You can feel it as I do. I say we push Joey out and bring Wesley back in.”
“Have you gone mad?” Juris asked. “The hoax, the apparition on the church, Joey’s prominent placement, it all plays into the future of our mission! When the crop does its work, we’ll need Joey to lead, convincing the masses of his higher purpose by proof of his suppressed aging.”
“Wesley doesn’t age either,” Margol said. “He also has a significant past, one that can be proven in news articles of his being orphaned when his parents died in the caving accident. Why can we not use him to lead our cause?”
“Because Shep has not instructed us to,” Juris said. “You forget your place, Margol.”
Klee wiped his eyes. “Whatever happens, we must all remember our place. It is to serve Shepherd, to follow him in all decisions. He will need us now more than ever.”
“And will your love for him exceed your love for Allisto?” Margol said. “Think about that, Klee. Because you may have to make that choice. I suggest you start preparing for it.”
Juris glared at Margol. “Even Shep has not yet condemned Allisto, his goal is to get him back and determine what went wrong. You are always too keen to accept the worst, my brother. Your demeanor is sour more often than not. Is there nothing that brings you joy, no positive outcome you can focus on?”
Margol offered him a cold smile. “Joy. Did you find that in the bed of your brother’s woman?”
Klee looked back and forth between them. “What?”
Juris kept himself calm, but threw Margol a threatening look. “Keep your tongue.”
“Why?” Margol asked. “Should I become as dishonest as you? What were you doing at Robin’s house?”
Klee looked at Juris. “You were at Robin’s house?”
Juris regarded his brothers’ faces, Klee’s questioning and innocent, Margol’s hard and accusing. He knew that each lie he told pulled him farther away, created a distance between them that had never been before. Yet he looked them in the eye and lied just the same. “I ran into her when I was out. She asked to speak with me. She merely wanted to ask after Shep.”
“Did she,” Margol said. “That is most unusual.”
“She is so beautiful,” Klee said dreamily.
“Perhaps we should all go to Robin’s house,” Margol said. “She could take turns with us, calling out our names as we pleasure her.” He narrowed his eyes at Juris. “Or did she call out Shep’s name instead?”
Juris jumped to his feet. “I don’t want to hear another word about her. And you’ll say nothing of this to Shep.”
Klee’s big sad eyes looked up at him. “You should never lie to Shep.”
“If it’s to save his feelings, I will lie by omission. Nothing happened with Robin. It’s of no significance, so forget about it. Just forget about it.”
Margol huffed but said nothing.
“Let’s go prepare some food,” Juris said, heading out of the bedroom. “When Shep wakes up, we should try to get him to eat.”
As he left the room, he heard them murmuring to each other. Everything was coming apart. Just when they’d started to rebuild, it was all splintering again. But this time the cracks were between them. He felt responsibility for part of it; he should never have allowed this weakness in himself, this need for her. He longed for her still, but he had to be strong.
But there were other cracks forming as well. Margol suggesting they replace Joey with Wesley? It was madness. Joey had griped to Juris that while he was tied to a tree at Forest Bluffs, strung up and helpless as his followers prepared to drain his blood and consume him, that he’d spotted Margol at the edge of the woods. He swore it. And that Margol did nothing to save him. Juris had doubted the chosen one, telling him it was the blow to the head he’d received, causing him to see things that weren’t there. But now he wondered. Had Margol disobeyed Shepherd? Had he been willing to let Joey die that night? Rifts, and more rifts, all of them internal. Their cohesion as a group was slowly disappearing.
And then there were his own doubts about their long-term mission. He’d argued with Shep that the sterilization would drop the population enough to affect The Light, and surely there would be retaliation. But Shep was certain that the focused energy of the masses, once they became convinced of and unified by Joey’s validity as leader, would more than make up for the loss—it would simply be in Shepherd’s control, and he would be the one calling the shots. Juris wasn’t so sure. And he craved peace.
The other two brothers finally straggled into the kitchen and helped him prepare a vegetarian lasagna. He’d been craving it ever since that scent caught his nose at Father Carbone’s house. He’d found himself appreciating the simple pleasures of this world more and more. While he occasionally still ached for The Light, that need was fading, and as it did, his heart opened to new things.
After putting the lasagna in the oven, he excused himself to shower. Back in his bedroom, he hesitantly checked his phone. Robin had sent a reply, and his heartbeat quickened. He wasn’t sure if he’d hoped she would or not. Closing his eyes, he prepared himself, taking a deep breath. Then he read the text and his heart sank to his knees. Fuck you. You used me.
He sank back onto the bed and stared at the words. A thousand protests rose in his mind, and he wanted to reply and tell her all of them. He hadn’t used her. He wanted desperately to see her again. He thought of little else. But he stopped his hand from hitting the button, thinking instead of Shep’s sobs. Sobs that were the result of a brother’s betrayal. While what Juris had done didn’t compare to Allisto sending an assassin to kill them, it was still a betrayal, and he doubted Shep would handle it well. Especially now. So instead of replying, he closed the message and put his phone down.
While he showered, water l
eaked from his eyes for the very first time since his painful birth into this world.
****
An hour later, Joey was startled out of sleep, his head banging the wall next to the floor when he jumped in surprise. Shep sat up in bed, a deep cry pealing from his open mouth. His eyes stared wide, back arched like he’d been hit with an electric shock.
Joey went to his side. “Hey, I’m here. What’s wrong?”
His eyelids fluttered, then he turned to Joey. “I feel him.”
Shep’s bedroom door flung open and the three brothers stumbled in, looking equally wide-eyed and startled. Margol went to Shep and knelt by the bed. “Shepherd. Allisto is with us. He’s in this world.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“And he’s close,” Juris added. “Though I can’t see where, I feel he’s close.”
“I...felt his pain,” Klee whispered. “I feel it still.”
Shep got out of bed. He took Juris’s head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Get the guns,” he whispered.
Juris held Shep’s head for a moment, then stepped back and left the room.
“Are you all right?” Joey asked Shep.
Shep looked at Joey but said nothing.
“Do you want me to call Agent Litner?” he asked.
“No.” Shep looked at Margol and Klee. “This is something my brothers and I have to do alone.”
“I could help,” Joey said.
Shep raised his eyebrows. “Can you feel Allisto’s presence in this world?”
He frowned. “No.”
“Then you can’t help. Can you, Joey?”
“I could help once you find him. I do have my strengths.”
Shep pointed a finger in his face. “You stay in the house. No matter what. Is that clear?”
His expression was pained. “Yeah. Clear as a bell.”
Shep pushed past him and left the room. Joey glanced at Margol and Klee. “Well, go on!” he shouted. They hesitated a moment, then left the room. “Go on,” he said quietly to himself once they’d gone. “I’ll just stay here and look pretty.”
