“You didn’t kill Aiden,” Miro argued, a dark look passing over his features, smoking his eyes to black.
“Not directly,” I countered, my lips turning down in a frown.
“You also didn’t kill those idiot thugs that attacked you and Silas,” Cabe added, sounding almost regretful, as though he wished I had killed them.
“Yeah, that was me,” Silas noted tonelessly.
“You didn’t kill Gerald either.” Noah had his arms crossed over his chest and he was staring me down.
“That was also me.” Silas said. “But only the second time.”
We all turned to him for a moment, silently willing him to stop contributing, because he really wasn’t helping.
“Time’s up.” Miro glanced at his watch before picking up two duffels from the ground and slinging one over his shoulder before tossing the other to Silas. “Now we know why we’re here—not that we hadn’t already guessed as much—so let’s start moving.”
He headed to the other side of the cemetery and started descending into the valley beneath. I was immediately glad for the jeans and boots that Silas had picked out for me, along with the long-sleeved shirt, because the vegetation was thick and wild, scratching against the denim and catching on my jacket. I could hear leaves rustling on either side of us, and I had to tell myself over and over that the sounds belonged to animals darting through the trees, startled by our sudden appearance in this place where humans didn’t go, dropping down from a cemetery that seemed to have been forgotten by the living, at some point in time.
That was probably why Danny had been initially drawn to it.
I was walking after Miro and Silas, with Noah and Cabe behind me, and it was taking all of my concentration not to trip or brush up against any of the plants that would tear my clothes, so we didn’t pick up the conversation again. Not that I minded. I didn’t want to debate over how many deaths I was really responsible for. One was enough.
We walked until the sunlight began to dip, following the sound of a road through the trees to our right. Miro obviously knew where he was going, because he didn’t stop to check his phone or glance at a map or a compass. He had probably examined an aerial view of the surrounds before heading out here, and knew exactly which road we were following. When night finally came, he dragged us further. We didn’t stop until my legs were aching and I was so weak and hungry that I was almost nauseous. Even then, I didn’t announce my discomforts. Miro must have felt them, because he told us that it was time to head into town.
We turned toward the sound of another road—the sounds of passing cars had faded away for a few hours as Miro took us in another direction, before an engine rumbled in the distance again a few minutes ago. The trees gradually thinned out until we were walking alongside the road, facing over two lanes of traffic separated by a thin stretch of grass. We waited for a break in the cars and ran across. Someone blasted a horn at us—they clearly weren’t expecting a group of people to suddenly burst out of the cover of trees so late at night.
“We need to climb over now.” Miro pointed to a fence a few feet away, raising his finger to indicate the crest of a hill beyond. “The town is just past here.”
“You know this area?” I asked him, as Silas scaled the fence without hesitation.
“I had to be prepared,” Miro answered, taking my waist in his hands as I neared the chain-link.
He lifted me up as Noah climbed above me, tackling the fence as easily as Silas had. He sat on the metal bar that ran along the top as Miro lifted me, holding his hands out for me. I reached up, and he lifted me up to sit beside him.
“Twist,” he ordered quietly, tapping my legs.
I pulled my legs over to the other side and he grabbed my arms, lifting me from my perch and handing me down to Silas.
It wasn’t until my feet were solidly on the ground again that I opened my mouth to protest. “I probably could have done that myself.”
“You probably could have,” Silas agreed, as the other three landed on the ground beside me. “That’s why nobody asked.”
I rolled my eyes a little, but they were already striding ahead, pulling themselves up the hill. I followed, clutching at my side as we crested, staring down at the bare sprawl of civilisation that spotted the landscape alongside a service road. There was a gas station with its lights turned off, clearly closed for the night; a motel with a neon vacancy sign; a single-storey house with a broken-down car parked on the lawn outside; and several more houses just like it, languorously taking up space until the service road climbed up another short hill and dipped away from our sights.
“Well this is fancy,” I said, a grin forming on my face.
“Beats camping out in the woods,” Cabe returned, tugging on my hand to pull me toward the next road.
The sky rumbled, and I turned my eyes upward, examining the darkness as though I would be able to discern the rainclouds among the stars. The moon was partway obscured, the dull lights in the sky hiding behind a screen. I was suddenly very grateful that we wouldn’t be camping out in the woods. Miro had probably packed for that kind of an emergency but I didn’t want to be sleeping in the rain, watching every shadow and listening to every rustle in the trees. At least the door to the motel room would have a lock.
We crossed the road and headed toward the motel, passing by the house with the broken-down car. Long, spindly grass was growing up around the dented rims, and one of the windows had been smashed. The seats were stripped, and there was no steering wheel. I turned my attention toward the house, but just as quickly snapped my attention away when I noticed one of the curtains twitching. The motel ahead had an open parking lot backing up to the rooms, with a minimal, covered walkway right outside the doors. At the end of the walkway was a room that stuck out ahead of the others, with large windows and yet another neon vacancy sign hanging above the door. There was also a noticeboard set above a plain wooden bench. I could only just make out a man through the window, sitting up against the glass, a newspaper opened in front of his face. Just as we reached the building, Miro cut toward the side, and we all followed him until we were shielded from the eyes of the man sitting in the office.
“Cabe, you go in with Seph. We can’t all walk into the office and ask for a room.”
“Why him?” Silas asked, turning and crossing his arms over his chest. There was a strange, almost savage smile on his face. He seemed to already know the answer to his question, but he wanted it said out loud for some reason.
“He’s the least threatening of us,” Miro answered without blinking. “Seph, come here.”
I cast a quick look to Cabe, to make sure he wasn’t offended. He was grinning at Silas. Weird. I moved over to Miro, who pulled the hood of my jacket up around my face, tucking my hair inside and zipping it up.
“Try not to make eye-contact,” he said. “Just look at the ground.”
I nodded, and Cabe drew me away, pulling me under his arm as he strolled down the walkway. The sky rumbled again, and I felt a drop of moisture plop onto the sleeve of my left arm—which apparently wasn’t covered by the short overhang. I tried to speed up my walk a little, but Cabe tightened his arm, refusing to go any faster.
“We should hurry,” I whispered to him. “They’re going to get soaked out there.”
He hummed beneath his breath—a toneless song that I didn’t recognise. I blinked at his face. He was smiling an easy smile, pretending not to hear me.
“Lucifer.” A chuckle burst out of my mouth. I had intended the nickname to sound like an admonishment, but it just sounded like an endearment.
“Hmm, little ghost?” he turned his eyes downward, the toffee colour sparking with mirth as he smiled at me.
“You’re plenty threatening,” I said. “They know that. You don’t need to punish them.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled open the door of the office for me, ushering me inside, and then he proceeded to browse through the local information book on the co
unter.
When the inky sky outside flashed with sudden, brilliant light, he glanced up. When thunder cracked across the sky again, he closed the book. When rain began pelting the road outside, he rapped on the counter. The man who had been sitting there lowered his newspaper again—he had done it once we walked in, but soon gave up waiting for Cabe.
“I need a room,” Cabe told him. He pulled me under his arm again as the man glanced at me. He pushed on my shoulder, turning my face into his chest, and I felt his lips skim over my hairline.
The man grunted something in reply, but I wasn’t really paying attention anymore. My focus was on Cabe’s hand, which was slipping beneath my jacket, settling warm and heavy against my spine. I wound my arms around his torso in return, breathing in his scent as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a stack of cash. After a few more moments, he was drawing me back toward the door and I was forced to release him as we darted outside again. He stopped at the second last room, shoving the key into the lock and ushering me inside.
“I’ll grab the others,” he announced, darting away.
I flicked back the curtain, attempting to peer through the rain toward the office. I could barely make out the lights shining through the windows, so I assumed we wouldn’t have an issue sneaking three fully-grown men into the room. I pulled away from the window and drew off my half-soaked jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair, and then I started tugging on my boots. I was bare-foot and reaching for the television remote when the door burst open again, admitting the others.
They spilled into the room in a whirl of battering wind, sharp rain, and bulky bodies. The door slammed shut again and I blinked as they separated, pulling off their jackets and shoes the same way I had. Very soon, the tiny dining table and twin chairs were covered in sopping black cloth. I turned away from them and switched on the screen, flicking through the channels one-by-one. When I didn’t see any hint of Special Subject #34 news, I muted the sound and set the remote aside.
“This storm is ferocious,” Cabe said, standing at the window and looking out.
Miro shot him an annoyed look, which meant that Cabe’s subtle revenge hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“I don’t know …” Silas moved to the window beside Cabe, shoving his shoulder. “It seems pretty unthreatening still.”
I quickly opened my mouth to say something before a fight broke out, but the words that shot out shocked even me. “Where are we all going to sleep?”
I had been avoiding looking at the double bed sitting right behind me, facing the television. I had been avoiding looking at it with a single-minded determination that somehow drove it straight into the forefront of my mind. And now everyone was staring at me.
“I mean …” I waved my hand at the bed, a blush spreading up my neck. “There isn’t enough room. Never mind, I can sleep on the floor.”
I grabbed a pillow from the bed and started to shuffle past Noah with my head down. He grabbed me, chuckling.
“There’s a sofa bed right there.” He was pointing at the couch beneath the window. “Why are you going to sleep on the floor?”
“Just trying to be chivalrous,” I muttered.
“Leave that up to us. You can take the bed and the rest of us can split up between the bed and the sofa.”
“But first we need food,” Miro declared, spinning and pulling his boots back on. Clearly, this moment was as uncomfortable for him as it was for me.
“I’ll help!” I dropped the pillow and hurried to grab my own boots.
I caught him smiling as he bent over to lace his boots up, but his expression was back to normal when he straightened, pulling his jacket back on. Noah started pulling out the sofa while Cabe sat on the bed, his back up against the headboard, his arms folded behind his head. Silas was switching the sound back on and flicking through the channels just as I had a few minutes ago.
A lot could change in a few minutes.
We left the room and headed out into the rain, ducking our heads against the sharp, icy splattering of water.
“Where are we going to get food from?” I shouted after Miro, trying to be heard through the rain.
Ahead of us, the door of the last room opened, revealing a woman in a leopard-print skirt, with high ankle boots and a battered leather jacket. Her makeup was smudged and she was trying to light a cigarette even though it was raining.
“Babe, come on, you know I’m good for the money,” a male voice sounded from inside the room.
The woman kicked the door closed and shouldered past me, grumbling around her cigarette. She was only a step away when I flicked my finger in her direction. A bright, bluish spark flared on the end of her cigarette and she blinked, dropping the lighter even as she sucked on the end, desperately pulling smoke into her lungs.
“Fudge knuckle,” she grumbled, crouching down to retrieve the lighter.
Fudge-knuckle?
“Your powers are getting stronger.” Miro distracted me, his hand slipping beneath my hood to cup the back of my neck.
We walked that way, the rain battering us, his hand warm against my skin.
“I know …” I finally answered. I wanted to tell him that it was probably a bad thing—because most things that happened to me were bad things, but I didn’t. Instead, I prodded him with my question again. “So where are we getting the food from?”
“We’re going to check the gas station.”
“It was closed.”
“We’re still checking it.”
“Checking it how?”
His fingers tightened fractionally, pinching around my neck. “They might have a vending machine or something. I’m not going to break into a damn gas station, Seph. I’m not Silas.”
“Right.”
I kept my thoughts to myself as we passed by the broken-down car once again, and trudged our way toward the gas station. The clothes that Silas had snuck into my closet were working well for everything that we had done that day. The jeans had provided a formidable barrier against the rain up until we reached the shop front of the gas station, pressing ourselves to the window to get away from the downpour. By that time, I was mostly soaked. The jeans were heavy on my hips, my boots were full of water, and I could feel rivulets escaping beneath my hood to dampen the shirt hidden behind my jacket. Miro didn’t look any better off—his hair was plastered to his head, dark strands running into his eyes before he pushed them away and fixed his attention on me.
I took a deep breath, intending to say something, but words wouldn’t come. He turned slightly, his eyes flicking between mine. Tension gathered about us like a cloak, and the longer I held my silence, the heavier it seemed to become.
There was something about this moment.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it seemed … pivotal. There was something about this dusty road at midnight, clogged with rain and whispering with foreboding. It was slicing through my memories, cutting up every reason I had—every excuse I had used to convince myself—to stay away from Miro. I had seen him as my older protector, my hovering, dark angel. My mentor. My conscience. My reason to do good things, to be a good person, because he wanted me to be that way. All he needed to do was ask, and I acted. I changed, I followed, I fell.
Suddenly, those memories didn’t seem the same anymore.
Miro wasn’t too far above me at all. He wasn’t untouchable. He was real and warm and precious.
And just like the others … he was mine.
As though reading my mind, his eyes fell to my lips. He shifted closer, that unbearable look of pain flickering across his face once again. For the first time, I understood what it meant, and I hated it.
“I’m breaking in,” I blurted, pushing away from him.
“What?” he asked my back, his voice husky, confused.
“Shop,” I said, pointing to the glass window, before turning my finger back to my chest. “Me.” I bent and grabbed a rock from the ground. “Break,” I enunciated, before tossing the rock through the window.
“What the hell is happening.” He stayed where he was, not even bothering to stop me from pulling the sleeve of my jacket over my hand so that I could knock the rest of the glass away from the window.
“Really?” I glanced back as I pushed out pieces of glass. “You need it explained three times? Weren’t you a teacher and a professor? And you know … the leader of a superhuman race of people?”
He shook his head, moving beside me and pushing out the rest of the glass before stepping ahead of me into the room. “Just because you’re dressed like the Headshot Nerd doesn’t mean you get to start acting like him.”
“The headshot what?” I pulled a plastic bag out from behind the counter and started shoving things into it.
Chips, a few sandwiches in plastic containers from a humming refrigerator unit, several bottles of water, a charm bracelet from the bucket of kids toys below the chocolate bars …
“Seph.” Miro pulled me up from my crouched position, forcing me to drop the bag. “I don’t know what’s come over you but—” He was attempting to take the charm bracelet out of my hand.
“Don’t worry, Bossman.” I cut across him softly, tugging the bracelet free and leaning up to wind my arms around his neck. “I’m only taking what I need. I promise. And I’ll leave them money. Or—actually, you’re going to leave them money because I only did half a day of body-guarding and that didn’t turn out so good, so they probably aren’t going to pay me for it.”
He hugged me back, just like I knew he would, because hugs were his weakness.
“Fine,” he grunted, allowing me to draw back, though he watched me closely as I bent back to the bag on the ground and picked out a few more things.
I moved to the next basket and dug around inside, finding a kid’s Star Wars watch, which I shoved into the bag along with everything else.
“We need anything else?” I asked, standing and spinning around.
Miro scratched his chin, still examining me. “Water?”
“Got it.” I waved the bag from side to side.
“An umbrella.”
A Portrait of Pain Page 16
