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“Guess I’d better go and put out a few fires,” he said when he finally released her.
“Not literally, I hope,” she laughed.
“You never know with us two. But no, I promise I’ll stay calm, get him to sit down with me and show me his work. Would you mind going to Mom and telling her I’m making peace with Beau?”
“Of course,” she said softly. “You’re a good guy, Ethan Blade.”
“Maybe,” he sighed, kissing her soft upturned mouth, “but you’re making me a better one.”
CHAPTER 24
When Ethan approached Beau’s door, all was quiet. Unusual. He knocked. There was no music, nothing, just silence, which was more worrying. He knocked again, but there was still no answer, so he turned the handle and walked in. The room was in darkness.
“Beau?”
No answer.
He cleared his throat. “Beau, are you in here?”
A tiny little flame thrown from the bed illuminated Beau, who was curled up on the mattress, his wings huddled around him.
He looked so young, so vulnerable with his arm thrown over his horns and his wings curled around his body. It reminded Ethan of how his little brother had been when he’d first hatched. How much he’d loved him. His heart swelled as the memories of his tiny hatchling brother hit him in the solar plexus.
No one had time for Beau when Dad died. Not Ethan, and not his mom. Ethan had been too wrapped up in his own grief, and coping with his mother’s. When Beau had gotten involved with ferals, he’d come down on him like a ton of bricks, sending him to a special school, which he’d absconded from.
The therapy, and the cajoling, and… it just seemed endless at the time. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the flood of memories. It was in the past, just like Min said.
Just sit down and hear Beau’s story now.
Let him show you his work.
Listen. Be a big brother who cares, not one who resents the worry he’s caused you.
Min was right: he and Beau weren’t so different. They were both creative—him with his music, Beau with drawing. Ethan could still feel the sting of rejection, like ice, when he’d showed his dad those few pages of music he’d written, the feeling of deep disappointment, the sense that who he was wasn’t going to be enough. Not unless he followed in Dad’s footsteps.
And now—shit. He was doing exactly the same thing to his little brother.
No. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to Beau.
He walked cautiously over to the bed, sat down on the edge. He sensed his brother shifting away. “Mate, I’m sorry. I was too quick to react. I really do want to see what you’re working on.”
Another puff, but it was only smoke, no flame this time. That was a good sign. Ethan sensed Beau sitting up now, hugging his knees.
“Is this just because Min told you to come and talk to me?” Beau’s voice was sulky.
He could lie, but Ethan thought better of it.
Just tell the truth.
“Min did persuade me I was wrong, yes. But… hear me out. I’ve been blind to what I’ve been doing to you, Beau. I reacted too strongly, and didn’t give you a chance to explain.” He huffed a sigh. “I guess you know how much I’ve worried about you since Dad died, but there’s more to it than that. When I was younger than you, I dreamed of being a musician, writing my own music, maybe being a concert pianist.” He laughed. “Crazy, huh?” Beau said, nothing, but Ethan sensed his brother didn’t think it was crazy. “One day I showed Dad a piece I’d written. I wanted to play it for him. And he shot me down. Not in a fiery way—to be honest, I’d almost prefer he’d shown more passion. No, he just shrugged it off, said he’d hear it some other time. I remember he told me music was soft stuff, for birds and fae.” He laughed bitterly. “I waited for him to ask me to play that piece. And waited. He never asked. So I locked away my dreams and got on with being a dutiful son. And I’m only just realizing I’ve been expecting you to do the same. And that’s not fair. When you tried to show me your art just then, I did to you exactly what Dad did to me. And I’m sorry.”
Beau said a gruff, “Thanks.” But his voice cracked.
There was silence for a few moments, punctuated by a snuffle or two from Beau. Finally, Ethan asked gently, “Will you show me the game you and your friends have created?”
“You mean, now?”
“Yeah, right now.”
