And obsession is the basis of a shadow demon’s core.
Sitting up, I snatch my phone from the bedside table and bring up the phone app, punching in my brother’s number.
My thumb hovers the call button, a brief moment of hesitation. Taking a deep breath, I press the button, holding my phone to my ear.
It rings once.
Then twice.
Then three times.
There’s a click before his familiar voice groggily asks, “Hello?”
I don’t say hi. I don’t apologize for the unexpected call in the depth of the night. I get right to the point. “I have a question.”
“Orie?” His voice instantly clears, a small laugh traveling through the phone. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
This was a mistake. I don’t need his help…at least, I wish I didn’t.
My extended exhalation reeks of frustration. “Have you ever had those obsession feelings for someone?”
“Like what we used to do?” he asks, not giving me an answer like I want.
Running my free hand through my hair, I admit, “Yes, but not the same, exactly.”
“Well, sure, if I am interested in someone or if someone owes me something, I begin to track them.”
But it’s not thesame.
“I don’t kill anyone I track nowadays,” he says. “Just to clarify.”
“This isn’t voluntary.” The words leave me quicker than I can think.
“Oh.”
Silence follows from both of us. I know he’s still on the other end of the call. I pick up a faint breath every few seconds.
I know what he’s thinking, and why he’s silent. The unspoken question floats in the quietness between us: what do I want from him?
Letting my shoulders fall, I prepare to admit something to him for the first time in our lives. “I need help…dealing with this.”
There’s no hesitation when he asks, “Where are you?”
“Harmony Glen.” Since we parted ways many years ago, I’ve refused to tell him where I settled down. Until now.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” With that, the phone call ends.
Slowly, I lower the phone, turning the screen off as I set it in my lap. Hopefully, that was the hardest part.
Admitting that I need something from him. Admitting that I’mnotin total control of my feelings and emotions like I claimed to be—like I claimed made mebetterthan him. More human.
I have no idea when he’ll get here. He could be here in seconds with shadow travel, but I don’t know what kind of life he’s made for himself. He might have a job he needs to taketime off from.
Hell, maybe he has a partner he’ll need to explain everything to.
For now, though, I’ll try to get some sleep—if I can beg my mind to stop focusing on the presence of the artist man.
Chapter Three
