Desire

by P. T. Michelle

  I shrug, unsure. “Maybe being there is enhancing your abilities too. Today was the first time I heard more than my name.”

  Drystan glances up at the trees and laughs, then his eyes shift to me. “I can’t believe this is happening, but it’s kind of nice to know you’re here with me, at least in my head.”

  “I’m not in your head, Drystan. It seems to only happen if you think of something where I’m part of the thought. That’s when I hear you.”

  “Still, it’s pretty awesome.”

  I smile, hoping it helps him feel less alone. “I’m always just a ping away.”

  “Or a thought.” He grins, a slight glimmer of the Drystan I knew shining just under the surface.

  Laughing, I nod. “Well, now you have something else to explore. Maybe the other Paladins you’ve become friends with can help you test your abilities.”

  “Possibly.” He glances at his watch. “Guess I’d better go if I’m going to find the library. I’ll ping,…er, think you later.”

  “Har, har.” I snicker, then log off.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ethan

  No amount of mental gymnastics you do will push me out of your head. I’m a part of you. Get used to it.

  I ignore the Corvus’ comment and try to focus on something to help me concentrate, but the trees and houses are whizzing past the window so fast there’s nothing to focus on. While Samson changes the radio station in his car, I close my eyes and breathe in and out slowly, trying to find an inner focus.

  How about we come to an agreement?

  I tense, unsure where the spirit is going with this. Unless it’s about you leaving me the hell alone, I’m not interested.

  I promise to no longer take over and put Nara in what you perceive as danger. Not that I’m agreeing that she was ever in danger in the first place—I am Corvus, after all—but you seem unconvinced.

  His arrogance really pisses me off. Your idea of danger and mine do not even come close, Corvus.

  Be that as it may, are you willing to come to an agreement?

  I clench my fist on my thigh. So far none of the mental exercises I’ve read about in the books I bought have worked. The Corvus seems to delight in my efforts to block him. He chanted during one effort, made annoying raven tok, tok sounds during another, and even started singing some strange archaic sounding song during the last.

  He was quieter when I wasn’t actively trying to block him. Now he won’t shut up, but his promise to no longer put Nara in danger definitely gets my full attention. Thank God he doesn’t have access to all parts of my mind or any negotiation would be fruitless. Nara is my pressure point and he knows it. What are your terms?

  Let me have control when demons are around.

  My suspicion creeps in. What exactly does that mean?

  I take over your body during battles.

  I’m pretty sure I blacked out for a second last night; I was so hyper-focused on saving Nara. That demon jumping bodies like he did…he could’ve easily taken her from me. The next thing I knew I was cupping her face and the demon was gone. The idea of letting the spirit take control makes me grit my teeth. He’s so powerful, I don’t want to give an inch. Before I can say anything, he continues, You said you wanted to know everything that I know. I fight them. You learn. Simple.

  Nothing is simple with this being. Nothing. But Nara’s safety is most important to me. What if I had been a split second behind? That’s all it would’ve taken to lose her. Here’s how this will go, Corvus. You can take control only if there is no other humans around. No witnesses. No one else will get hurt.

  I agree to your conditions.

  He sounds entirely too smug. I tense and start to withdraw my agreement when my brother’s voice snags my attention.

  “Ethan!”

  I glance his way. “What?”

  “I had to call your name three times. Where did you go?” When I don’t respond right away, he sighs and gestures to the house in front of us. “We’re here.”

  “Looks like they’ve downgraded a bit,” I say, sweeping my eyes over the modest ranch house. It’s probably one-forth the size of our house in Michigan.

  “Ethan…” Samson starts to say, then shakes his head. “I need you to try with Dad tonight, okay?”

  “You walked out on dinner the last time.” When all I get is a hard stare, I snort as he pulls the keys from the ignition. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “And none of that,” he says in a curt tone, keys jingling while he points at me.

  “None of what?”

  Sighing, he gets out.

  I exhale a calming breath and follow my brother to the front door. For him, I’ll keep my mouth shut and make the effort.

  In ten minutes, I’ve piled my plate with cold cuts and slices of cheese while I watch with detached amusement as my mom pats her blonde French twist and tries to surreptitiously look around for my dad to rescue her from some older man in a tweed jacket. If he’s so boring, why’d you invite him in the first place, Mom?

  The plate disappearing from my hand quickly grabs my attention. “Hey. Why’d you—”

  “Come on. We’re leaving,” Samson grumbles in my ear before he walks in the direction of the door.

  “I’m out of here—” My brother hisses in a low tone once I finally catch up to his fast stride as he shoulders his way through the crowd.

  “Calm down, Samson,” I whisper and quickly follow him out of our parents’ house. “They have a nice spread of food. What would it hurt to stay and eat?” I can’t believe I’m being the voice of reason. Nara must’ve really gotten to me yesterday.

  “This is bullshit and you know it, Ethan,” he snaps, not even looking at me while we approach his car.

  “Samson, Ethan,” my father’s booming voice calls after us from the porch. “Where are you going? You just got here.”

  My brother looks up from unlocking his car door, his blond eyebrows pulled together in obvious irritation. “I thought this was a family thing. That you were set on trying to make it work between us. Instead, it’s Michigan all over again. Enjoy your holiday party.”

  When my father’s deep blue eyes shift to me, seeking support, I just shrug and open the passenger door. He should know better. There’s no changing Samson’s mind at this point. It takes a lot to rile my brother, but once his angry meter goes off, budging him is impossible. Why would my dad expect that the stubborn part of his DNA wouldn’t come out in his sons?

  As we drive away, Samson’s car fishtailing in the layer of snow on the road, he hits his dashboard with his palm. “Fuck it!”

  I’m shocked to see my brother so upset. I had no idea he truly hoped our parents had changed their ways just because they rented a house here in Blue Ridge for a while.

  “I’m still hungry,” I say, which works to derail Samson’s foul mood.

  “You would be.” He snorts and rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re eating more than twice as much as you used to. Do you have a camel’s stomach?”

  Laughing, I punch his shoulder. “You don’t remember eating enough for two men when you were seventeen? Dad complained about the grocery bill back then too.”

  “I can’t eat like that now and still stay fit,” Samson says, patting his flat stomach.

  “Sure you can. Twenty-three year olds just have to work out more,” I say, flashing a smartass smile.

  “Bite me,” he retorts, then turns onto the highway.

  “Where are we going?”

  Relaxing his tense shoulders, Samson rests his wrist across the steering wheel. “You said you’re hungry. We’re going to the downtown mall to eat.”

  And just like that, he brushes aside what occurred like it never happened. Not that I wasn’t just as pissed to walk into our parents’ home full of fifty or so strangers milling around and chatting about inane things while holding plates of food and glasses of wine. The difference was, I wasn’t surprised we were invited to what turned out to be a social neighborhood part
y. But the moment we walked in the door, Samson stiffened and his face went red all the way up to his blond hair. When his features settled, I thought he’d gotten control over his anger. Clearly, he had much higher hopes than me.

  I’ve never been one to discuss deep feelings with my brother. Yeah, I’m curious why he got so upset, but I figure he’ll tell me when he’s ready and settle into the seat, secure in the knowledge we’ll be eating soon.

  As I stroll beside Samson along the brickyard mall, kicking up the snow with my black combat boots, he eyes me while he zips his leather bomber jacket closed. “How can you just wear that thin army jacket? It’s freezing out today.”

  I dig my hands into my jeans’ pockets. “I’m good. So, where do you want to grab a bite?”

  He nods toward McCormicks. “I haven’t been there in a long time. A beer sounds good to me right now.”

  Of all places for him to pick. I slow my pace. “You…ah, want to eat at a bar?”

  He shrugs. “Why not? Their food isn’t bad.” And without another word, he turns and heads straight for the door.

  I follow, hoping to redirect him elsewhere. “How about that Asian fusion place a bit farther down?”

  “Nah, this will be good.” He reaches for the door handle and pulls. “I heard a house band plays sometimes. If they’re here tonight, maybe we’ll just eat and hang for a few hours, enjoying the music. That should sound like heaven to you.”

  Tension flows through me, stiffening my spine, but then I realize it’s Christmas Eve. I’m sure the band is off visiting their families and such.

  Several college guys are hanging out close to the empty stage, and a few other groups of girls and guys are scattered among the tables. I’m a little surprised at the older couple having a meal near the picture window, but the laidback scene and dark, empty stage instantly relaxes the tension in my body. It’s weird to be here during the day, but also quiet, more subdued, which seems to fit my brother’s mood. I can tell he’s thinking about what just happened even if he’s not talking about it.

  I order a burger and fries and Samson orders the same. Thankfully the bartender doesn’t acknowledge me other than a slight nod before he sets down the food and walks away.

  While my brother is busy loading ketchup on his burger, I pull a slim black felt pouch out of my pocket and set in on the table next to his silverware.

  His blond eyebrows elevate, and he sets his burger down to wipe his fingers on his napkin. “What’s that?”

  “Your Christmas present,” I say, before taking a bite of my burger.

  “I thought we were exchanging tomorrow morning. Your present is under the tree.”

  I shake my head. “Stop being so traditional and just open it.”

  He eyes me for a second, then picks up the pouch and pulls out a black leather watch. “This is a nice gift, Ethan. Thank you.”

  I can see the question in his eyes. How can he afford this? I told him I have a job where I make a bit of under-the-table cash, but he doesn’t know about my music. And since Nara wasn’t super thrilled I hadn’t told her about playing with the band until recently, I doubt he’d be too happy that I hadn’t shared it with him either. Staying quiet is for the best. I know my brother and he won’t dare ask about my job. Some things we just take on trust.

  My stomach tenses when he flips the watch around and runs his thumb over the Corvus symbol on the metal back. I pop a French fry in my mouth and give a sheepish half smile. “I had some of my art added to the back.”

  I drew the raven yin-yang symbol myself and then had the engraver add it to the back, but it’s the message I had engraved in a semi-circle underneath the symbol that my brother’s thumb slides over several times. Brother/Mentor/Role Model/Friend. Thank you for being my whole family.

  He swallows a couple times before he looks up from the watch. “Thanks, little brother. That means a lot.”

  His voice is gruff, like he’s trying not to get choked up. I thanked my brother when he first brought me to Virginia to live with him, but since then I hadn’t told Samson how much I appreciate everything he’s done for me. After seeing his reaction tonight at our parents’ house, it hits me just how much family means to him, and I’m really glad I put my full appreciation on the watch. I cough to cover up my own emotional response, then nod toward the gift. “Put it on. You should wear something nicer than that crappy sports watch anyway.”

  Samson just straps on the watch when someone calls out, “Adder! Awesome. Glad you’re here.”

  I quickly glance up to see Ivan leaning his bald head out the side door next to the stage. He arches a pierced eyebrow and waves me over. “Get over here and help us with this stuff.”

  “Why did he call you Adder?” I can feel my brother’s surprised gaze on me when I stand. “Is that your job? You handle the equipment for the house band?”

  “Adder’s just what they call me.” I shrug. “And yeah, part of what I do is handling the equipment from time to time. I’ll be right back.”

  “You’re going to work? Now?”

  I shrug. “How do you think I paid for that watch?” When he involuntarily glances down at my gift, I finish, “Order a beer and relax. I won’t be long.”

  As I walk away, I scroll through my phone, looking for a number I’d stored there. Once I find it, I send a text, then open the door and head toward the back to find out what Ivan needs help with.

  After I help Ivan set up his drums—he’d taken the set on a trip earlier in the week—then helped set up cables, amps and other equipment for the guys, I realize a half hour has passed. Finally, I hop off the stage, leaving Ivan and the other band members: Dom, Chance, and Duke discussing their set for the evening and join Samson at the table once more.

  My brother is quiet for the next half hour, but when the band starts to warm up, playing a pre-set song, the side of my face starts burning with Samson’s intense stare. “What?” I finally say, pulling my focus away from the guys having a last minute discussion over including a new song in the evening’s list.

  “Well?” Samson spins his hand. “I’m going to skip over the part that you’re underage and assume a fake ID got you access, and ask the more pertinent question. When were you going to tell me about working for this band? How about you start with why you didn’t mention it when we walked in.”

  “Are you going to grill me now?” I say, eyeing him with suspicion.

  He stiffens, then takes a swig of his beer. “No, but it would be nice if you volunteered once in a while instead of me having to drag things out of you.”

  There are so many things—Corvus related stuff—that I haven’t been able to share with him for so long, it just became second nature not to say much. I open my mouth to make up something random when an attractive redhead walks in through the main door and starts scanning the room.

  Instead, I smile and dig into my pocket. Pulling out a piece of paper, I slide it across the table.

  Samson follows my line of sight and squints at the girl. “She looks familiar,” he mumbles, then glances down at the paper, confusion in his light blue eyes. “What is this?”

  “That is her number,” I say, waving to catch the redhead’s attention. She smiles and as she makes her way toward us, I continue. “Her name’s Emily Donovan. She’s the nurse who took care of me at the hospital. Don’t know what she sees in your sorry mug, but she asked me to give you her number.”

  When my brother starts to frown, I shake my head. “How long are you going to pretend not to care about dating? I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, Samson.” Shrugging, I continue, “She’s new here and doesn’t know anyone, so since it’s Christmas and all…I invited her to listen to the band with us.”

  “Hi, Ethan,” she says once she reaches our table. “You look great. No lingering effects from your car accident?”

  My brother’s up and sliding a chair back before I get a chance to pull out one for her. I hold back a grin. His gaze hasn’t left her face while she
waits for my response. “I’m all good.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it.” She glances Samson’s way as she sits down. “Thank you, Samson. I’m Emily in case you forgot my name. It’s good to see you again. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your guy time, but Ethan texted and said to come and listen to this Weylaid band with you two. I’m a big music junkie.”

  Samson gives a half-laugh, then takes his seat. “My brother knows more about the band than I do. Apparently he’s been working for them, doing equipment and such, for a while.”

  I ignore the dig in his tone and lean back in my chair, ready to listen to the band do their thing.

  A half hour later, the bar’s starting to fill up with people here to see Weylaid play. I’m enjoying the deep, rich sounds of the Southern rock music. Plus, it keeps me from having to watch my brother and Emily dance around their obvious mutual attraction. It occurs to me that with my brother completely distracted by Emily, now’s a good time to talk to Matt, and since he likes Weylaid’s sound, I send him a text inviting him to join us if he can.

  A few minutes later, I get a text back from Matt saying he’ll come in an hour. The latest song ends while I’m tucking my phone in my pocket. “We’ll be back in five.” The lead singer, Dom, lets the crowd know, but before he walks away from the mic, he points in my direction. “Hey Adder.” He then curls his finger, calling me over.

  I can’t jump up fast enough. “I’ll be back,” I say to my brother. “Looks like they need me.”

  Samson waves me on without looking away from Emily.

  I shake my head and move toward the side door. Bet he’ll look up later and wonder where I went.

  As soon as the door closes behind me, the whole band crowds into the hallway while Dom approaches, a wide grin on his face. “Tonight is really looking up. Ready to rock with us?”

  “I can’t play tonight, Dom. I’m here with my brother.”

  Dom smirks, raising a dark eyebrow. “Seems to me he’s here with Red and you’re a third wheel.”

  Even though I can’t deny that very true statement, I open my mouth to make up some other excuse when Duke clasps me on the shoulder. “They need you to play lead guitar, Adder. I have to duck out early for a family event. Christmas Eve is the one time a year I can’t bail. Chance here—” he tilts his head toward the blond musician leaning his head back against the wall with his eyes closed— “really appreciates your timely presence.”