But I hesitated before I opened the first one.
What if my parents told him about our recent call a few days ago, and he decided to send me a rant about upsetting them? Sure, it wasn’t like him to do that, especially since we weren’t on speaking terms, but Thayer could have a short fuse sometimes, and my parents were experts at knowing which of his buttons to push, manipulative as they were.
Still, while I didn’t want to read the messages, I knew I had to get it over with.
We need to talkwas the first one he texted me a few hours ago. Then, soon after, he textedWhy aren’t you answering the phone?
He had given up for about an hour before he sent the next message.Are you ignoring me because you’re still mad?
And then, a flurry of texts.
I know I fucked up, Drew,he wrote.The way I went about the whole fight was wrong. I insulted you and looked down on you and I want to apologize for it when I arrive in LA.
I paused, heart freezing over. Arrive in LA? What the hell was going on? He couldn’t possibly be coming here for me. He had a whole-ass life back in our hometown of Seattle. Last I heard, he even had a girlfriend who’d moved in with him.
But I really want to meet you because something happened,I read, my confusion growing, replacing my gloom with a sudden sense oftension.I received a letter—an actual letter—from an unknown sender. I really need to talk to you, and it better be in person. Can you send me your new address so we can meet face to face? I booked a flight and should arrive later this afternoon. Please call me.
The last text he sent was from an hour ago.Please at least text me so I know you’re alive and well, Drew. You don’t have to call. I just need to know that you’re safe. Please.
Thayer hardly ever pleaded for anything.
I’d never seen him saypleaseso many times.
Something was wrong.
I dialed his number and called, but it went straight to voicemail.
Now multiple things were wrong.
Was he already on a flight to LA? Why?
Why did Thayer think I was in danger?
He couldn’t possibly know about what had been going on the past few days. He had no ties to the American Supernatural Society or anything—I mean, he was the most avid denier of the truth, out of everyone in my life, even my parents.
Maybe he’s like Chase,that awful, traitorous voice murmured in my ear.Maybe all this time, he knew everything and pretended not to. Maybe he’s a supernatural himself. Don’t trust him.
The car suddenly screeched to a stop. I jerked in surprise and froze when Lucien’s hand suddenly pried mine from my phone and held it in his.
I whipped my head toward him and saw he was staring at me, searching my face. “You’re shaking,” he said softly when he saw my confused frown.
He was right. I was trembling all over, and I hadn’t even noticed. “It’s n-nothing,” I murmured, cursing inwardly at my stutter.
“Obviously, it’s not nothing,” Lucien said a little dryly, but the worry in his eyes was apparent. “You’ve been looking at your phone like you just saw a ghost.”
Seeing those texts from Thayer was certainly the equivalent of that. I opened my mouth and almost blurted the truth before I caught myself and clamped it shut, averting my gaze. Thayer wrote about some sort of danger, and my brother wasn’t one to exaggerate, so telling Lucien about it was probably the smart thing, therightthing, considering a danger to me meant a danger to him ...
Sliding my hand out of his hold, I folded my arms and stared ahead, refusing to return his gaze. “You said that being your Eteria meant my soul was bound to yours,” I said quietly. “But other than that, and the fact that hurting me means hurting you, you didn’t explain how this whole thing came to be, and what else it means for me, other than the fact that this title puts me in danger.”
He was silent for so long that I reluctantly returned my gaze to him. He was staring straight ahead, jaw ticking, his elbow leaning against the window and his other hand clutching the wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
My heartbeat quickened now that he was practically screaming without opening his mouth that he did not tell me everything. “Since you plan to leave me behind,” I said, bitterness entering my tone, “I deserve to at least know the whole truth, don’t you think?”
He snapped his head toward me, eyes filled with sudden anger, before he inhaled slowly and pushed his hair back, staring at the wheel as if it held all the answers to the universe. “It’s not about leaving you behind,” he said quietly. “It’s about protecting you.”
“Don’t avoid the real question here,” I said, growing angry myself. “What is it that you aren’t telling me?”
Lucien’s face grew dark before he looked at me again and said, “You understood one thing wrong. Your soul isn’t bound tomine, but rather tome.”
