By the time they reached his little yellow house, his chest was burning and one of his sides ached. He pressed his palm against his ribs and sucked in a breath through his burning nose. Blaise stood on the porch, beaming at him from the top of the stairs.
“In through your nose, out through your mouth.” He chuckled as Kito fought to regain his breath. “I’ll make a runner outta you yet.”
“The only…time I run is when I’m…being chased.” Kito straightened and shot a wide-eyed look over his shoulder. “And I’m not being chased.”
He climbed the stairs and poked Blaise in the chest, giving him a half-hearted glare. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
Blaise pushed his hand away and shook his head before nodding back toward the door. “I believe we were going to have dinner?”
Kito chuckled and turned to the door. “Thinking with your stomach, as always.”
He took hold of the knob and pulled the door open, slipping in through the opening with Blaise right behind him. The house smelled smoky and sharp like the remnant of a campfire in a pine forest. And just beneath that, a smell like rotten eggs. Kito wrinkled his nose and stepped into the edge of the living room.
“Mom must have burned something and tried to cover it with a fancy candle.” He fake gagged.
“Totally not working,” Blaise said around his hand.
Kito scanned the living room, eyes lighting on each piece of worn out furniture – the frayed brown couch, the plaid chair with stuffing hanging out, the scuffed coffee table, the bookshelves filled with much-loved books – but it looked as though his mom hadn’t been in the room all day. Even the curtains weren’t drawn, leaving the room gloomy in the waning light. Kito frowned, his brows coming together.
“It’s weird for Mom to leave the room so dark,” he mumbled as he stepped fully into the room. Blaise followed close behind him, dropping his hand away from his face to rest of Kito’s shoulder.
“Careful,” he whispered. Any trace of a grin had long since left his face, leaving him looking more serious than Kito had ever seen him. His amber eyes, rather than sparkling, were hard and focused as he swept his gaze over the room.
“Why?” He shrugged Blaise’s hand off his shoulder moved through the room, chewing at the inside corner of his lip. He poked his head into the kitchen, and his frown deepened. “Mom?”
Kito turned and headed up the stairs, fingertips trailing over the railing. The farther he went the more intense the smell became until he was cupping his hand over his nose and squinting. The rich, sharp scent of pine and embers slowly faded until all that was left was a stomach-turning sulfur.
“Mom?” he called, the word muffled by his hand. Blaise touched his shoulder again, pulling him to a stop just outside his mother’s bedroom.
“I don’t think she’s here,” he whispered, his hard gaze fixed on the door.
Kito let his arm drop, wide eyes darting from one side of the door to the other, the handle, the crack at the bottom, anything. He let out a shaky breath. His voice wavered when he spoke.
“Something bad happened. This smell, it’s…it can’t be good.” He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and pulled furiously at a loose thread. “I mean, she never goes anywhere. Ever. She’s a hermit. I even have to be there when she shops.” A high, breathy giggle pushed out of his throat against his will, and he shook his head, biting down hard on his tongue for a moment before ripping his hands out of his pocket and running them through his hair several times.
Before Blaise could stop him, he stepped forward and pressed his hand against the door. He didn’t know what to expect – that the wood would be hot like a demon just walked through it maybe – but it was just wood.
“Kito –”
He didn’t give Blaise the chance to finish. He wrapped his hand around the knob and twisted, shoving the door open. It banged off the wall, the sound loud in the still room. His mother lay curled on her side on the bed, one hand dangling off the side, her once rich, brown skin pale. Her white-streaked hair was curled in a soft halo around her face, and she wore jeans and blue blouse.
Kito took a faltering step into the room and slapped his shaking hand against the wall, his breath coming in stuttering gasps, a thrumming ache starting in his lungs and crawled up his chest until his throat closed and his vision blackened at the edges. His glistening eyes fixed on her gardening boots, muddy and still wet from the grass, resting on the comforter. Why would she have gotten into bed with her boots on?
Blaise swept past him and crouched in front of her, fingers digging into the side of the bed. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and Kito’s eyes focused on that. He breathed with it, in and out, until the blackness on the edge of his vision faded. He pushed away from the wall and took two steps toward the bed before Blaise sprang up and pressed his hands firmly on Kito’s chest.
“Don’t.” The word was barely audible.
Without a word, Kito pushed his hands down and stepped around so he could see his mother’s face.
Her chocolate eyes stared at the wall like doll’s eyes. Her lips were parted, and blood was drying in a line down to the bed. Blood dribbled from her nose to mingle with the line from her mouth. Kito sucked in a breath, tears blurring his vision before they slid down his cheeks, and he pressed his head against hers. Smoke and dying embers assaulted his nose when he buried his face in her hair, but under that, just starting to dissipate, was the rotten odor, coating his tongue and worming down his throat.
Kito didn’t know how long he laid there, hand tangled in his mother’s hair, but it was fully dark when he finally allowed Blaise to pull him away. He turned and buried his face against Blaise’s chest, gripping his shirt in shaking hands. He stood there for a long while, tears wetting the fabric under his cheeks, and breathed in the scent of a stormy ocean. His lips twisted in a little smile, and he looked up, letting his breath out in a whoosh.
“You smell the freedom.” At Blaise’s questioning look, Kito chuckled softly and took a step away. “Like salt water and thunderstorms, like sailing into an endless horizon and forgetting all the pain that comes with living.” He dropped his head and stared at the worn toes of his converse, the tears gathering again.
Fingers pressed under his chin and tilted his head back. Blaise ran his calloused thumb over Kito’s chin and sighed. “It’s always been hard for you with the looks and the being closeted and whatever.” He shifted and looked away, the edges of his amber eyes crinkling as he thought. “And this…” He huffed and dropped his hand, offering Kito a sideways grin that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’m bad at the comforting thing, but I’m here, and I know the beginning of what happened.”
Kito’s brows shot up. “What?”
“It…” Blaise rubbed the back of his neck, swaying side to side and averting his gaze. “Magic. It was magic.”
Words failed him, and he blinked slowly. After a moment, Kito clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’ve lost your mind. The shock, right? That’s it.” He shook his head. “Bonkers.”
Blaise scoffed and gestured to the door. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Follow me, and I’ll show you.”
He strode from the room without waiting for a response. He was halfway down the stairs before Kito caught up with him. Once they reached the kitchen, Blaise started opening drawers and frowning at their contents. Kito furrowed his brows.
“What are you –”
He stopped when Blaise grinned and pulled a carving knife from one of the drawers. Kito watched in silence as Blaise sat the knife down on the counter and pushed his sleeve up. But when he slid his hand across the marble, Kito darted forward and clamped his hand around Blaise’s wrist.
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice bounced off the walls, and Blaise flinched.
“Chill and let go of me.” He pulled in an effort to take his arm back, but Kito tightened his grip, fingernails digging into Blaise’s arm.
Blaise’s lips contorted in a snarl and with strength
Kito never knew he possessed, he wrenched his arm free. With one swift motion, he dragged the blade across the top of his arm. Kito’s brows shot up, and, with wide eyes, he watched the blood ooze out of the wound. It gaped at him like a red mouth.
“Shit, okay. Okay.” Kito pressed his hands to his lips before sweeping them back and through his white hair. “Stitches. You’re going to need stitches.” His hands fluttered uselessly from one thing to the next – the countertop, paper towels, back through his hair – before finally lighting on a dish towel. “Okay, pressure. We’ll put pressure and call the…”
His eyes settled on the wound, and the words died in this throat. The wicked gash knit together at the edges, pulling closed like invisible thread laced it together until there was no trace, only a pale scar, where a dripping cut was not a minute before. Kito dropped his hand to his side and shook his head, blinking rapidly for a second before a strained laugh forced out of his mouth.
“What…son of a bitch. That,” he sucked in a breath and licked his lips, “that isn’t possible.”
Blaise snorted and dropped his head back, chuckling and shaking his head. “You just saw it happen, babe. Of course it’s possible.” He looked back down and opened the drawer just to his left. When he pulled his hand back out, he clutched the meat tenderizer. “If you don’t believe still, I can smash all my fingers.” He waggled his eyebrows and waved the hammer.
Kito snatched it out of his hand and set it far away from Blaise. “Don’t you dare.”
“Are we done with show and tell, then?”
Kito flicked his eyes to the bloody knife and back to Blaise before nodding. “Yeah. So…” He glanced back over his shoulder to the stairs just visible through the door. “Thoughts?”
“We go talk to my mom.”
Blaise lived in a little red house tucked far back in the woods a good thirty minutes outside the city. Kito had to take his mom’s car, but with a lot of praying they wouldn’t get stopped and Blaise constantly squeezing the handle on the roof, they made it. Emvie greeted them at the door with a huge smile and ushered them in to have cookies and cocoa.
“So, Kito, staying the night?”
Kito stared into his steaming cup, pale hands clamped around it, eyes following the swirl of melting whipped cream. At a jab in his ribs from Blaise, he looked up, offering a tight smile to the little woman smiling at him from across the table.
“Yeah, Ms. Love, if you’ll let me.”
The corners of her blue eyes crinkled as she smiled. She tucked an errant blonde curl behind her ear and turned toward the stove, her frizzy bun bobbing as she bounced over. “Have you eaten? I made stew.” She grinned over her shoulder and nodded to Blaise. “Better get your bowl before this one gets ahold of it. Bottomless stomach like his father.”
“No thanks, Ms. Love.” Kito shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers on the worn tabletop, before clearing his throat. “My mom is dead.”
The spoon Emvie was holding slipped from her fingers and clattered to the stovetop. She twisted around and stared at him, eyes wide. Blaise shook his head and touched her arm, pulling her from her silence.
“I’m so sorry.” She shook her head and pulled a chair out, plopping into with a sigh. “Anessa gone. Forgive me for being blunt – though you were – but what happened?” She reached across the table and pressed her trembling fingers against his arm.
Kito slid his hands into his lap and rubbed his palms against his jeans, eyes tracing the lines in the wood until they all blurred together. Blaise slipped his hand over and squeezed Kito’s hand.
“We went over to his place to grab a bite, but it looked like she hadn’t been there all day. We found her upstairs on the bed, clothes all muddy, eyes open.” Blaise leaned forward and dropped his voice. “It smelled like sulfur and fire.”
Emvie jerked back, brows shooting up. She took a halting breath and held it, eyes fluttering closed. After a moment, she opened her eyes and focused on Kito. He lifted his own gaze up and tilted his head.
“Did it?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, I guess.” Kito shrugged one shoulder. “Like an old campfire and rotten eggs. I figured she burned something and tried to cover it with a candle. Blaise says…” He scoffed and shifted, rolling his eyes. “Blaise says it’s magic. I mean, I watched him heal himself, so I can’t say it’s not, but it seems ridiculous.”
Emvie let out a shaking breath. She took hold of the bottom of her shirt and twisted her fingers in the fabric, chewing the corner of her lip. A clenching pain started in Kito’s chest as he watched her reaction, and he tightened his grip on Blaise’s hand. He pushed his tongue against the roof of his mouth before swallowing hard.
“Did it look like she crawled into bed like she was going to sleep?” Emvie finally asked, her voice so soft Kito could barely hear it.
“Yeah, but…” He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes against the pain. His mother’s face blinked into existence in the darkness of his mind, the blood on her face stark and still glistening. He forced his eyes open, a strangled cry escaping him before he pressed his lips shut in a white line.
“There was blood on her face,” Blaise finished for him. He released Kito’s hand and instead put his arm around his shoulders. “Around her nose and mouth.”
Emvie turned her gaze away from the trembling, teary boy and focused on her son instead. “But no struggle? No bruises or anything?” When Blaise shook his head, Emvie sighed. “So it’s him.”
Kito wiped the tears away from his face and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, hands clenched so tight in front of him his knuckles were white. “Him who?”
Emvie licked her lips. For a moment, all she could do was twist her shirt in her hands, eyes locked on Kito’s. Finally, Blaise cleared his throat, pulling her out of her silence.
“Your mother never told you, said it would protect you, but what good is that is Griffin’s here?” She pulled her nervous hands away from their twisting and spread them flat on the table. “Anessa and I, and both your fathers, didn’t always live here.”
“My mom told me. We’re –”
“Not of this world.”
An uneasy silence fell between them. Blaise patted a quiet rhythm on his thighs, eyes fixed on the wall just behind his mother. Kito snorted, and Emvie jumped at the sound.
“Are you crazy? You’ve lost your freakin’ mind!” He pushed away from the table, his chair clattering against the floor as it skidded. He paced from one wall to the other, hands up in his white hair.
Emvie stood and stepped in his path. She slapped her hands on his chest, halting his pacing. Kito sneered and dropped his hands to his sides, glaring at her through with hard eyes.
“It’s true, Kito. There is so much more to this universe – multiverse – than you know. We come from a world without all this.” She gestured to the stove, the fridge, Blaise’s cell phone where it sat on the table. “And it had magic.”
Kito wrinkled up one side of his nose and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Emvie’s hand was over his mouth.
“Boy, shush it and listen before I tape your mouth shut and make you.”
There was a glint in her blue eyes that made Kito believe her. She tilted her head and cocked a brow as she dropped her hand from his mouth. Kito pressed his lips into a thin line and mimed zipping them.
With a little smile, Emvie continued. “Eruma was beautiful, but there were a lot of people who had issues with magic. They especially took issue with those born with it. The ones who used plants and books and other kinds of items to do their magic, people tolerated them, but ones like your mother’s family or your father, people looked at them like they were less than. Your mother was rare, born with magic but only able use it through an object.” She touched her fingers gently to her throat. “A necklace.”
Emvie waved her hand. “I’m off topic. Shortly after your mother and her siblings moved to the village where she met your father, Griffin attacked the village and k
illed your uncles and aunts in the process and your Uncle Damien’s, your father’s brother, fiancé too. For years, Griffin had been doing this, terrorizing the country, but no one had the power to stop him. But those deaths pushed Anessa and Damien over the edge, and they along with your father set themselves against Griffin. Even their magic wasn’t strong enough to defeat him.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “He used music and emotion. It always smelled like sulfur and fire. Something to do with all the anger and hate.”
Emvie paused and tugged at her curls. “That’s when Blaise and I met her and Veroku. We were fighting our own enemy, and we teamed up when they teamed up. Griffin was…” She let out her breath in a whoosh and sniffled. Kito shifted uncomfortably, trying not to focus on her glistening eyes. Crying women frazzled him. “Griffin and Rin together were nearly unstoppable. It took Veroku and Blaise’s sacrifice and nearly every bit of your mother’s magic to send them back to Neraka, to Hell.”
She swiped at her teary eyes, and Blaise stood and went to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. After a moment, Emvie turned her wet eyes up to Kito. “A priest, a friend, had given us the magic to come here, to a realm without magic, where you both might be safe. So we came. We damn sure never thought Griffin would crawl out of Neraka and find us here.”
After an uneasy silence, Kito stepped forward and pulled Emvie into a hug, him and Blaise surrounding her.
“I…I really don’t want to believe any of that but…but you’re a fierce lady, Ms. Love, and I don’t think you’d cry about it if it wasn’t true. No reason for you to lie anyway.” Kito pulled away and bit his lip. Locking gazes with Blaise over her head. “So, yeah, I’m like an alien.” He let out a strained laugh and stepped completely away. “I’ll deal with that later. First thing first. How do we get rid of the son of a bitch who killed my mom?”
Emvie laughed and moved away from her son, taking Kito’s hands in her own. “You’re a strong, brave young man, you know that? You’re so much like your father.” She squeezed his hands. “But this situation, brave as you are, is not a fight for you. I’m going to go back to your house and retrieve your mother’s necklace. It has eight magical stones on it, and I plan on trying to use it to defeat Griffin. You boys are not going to put yourselves in danger. You don’t know what you’re doing.” She pointed at Kito and Blaise in turn, one brow raised. “Hear me?”
Author's Torment Page 4
