Page 91 of Inextricably Tied

Flint drapes a blanket around her shoulders, taking a seat on the bench to her other side as Agony grins toward her. “Can’t sleep without me?”

She flicks the shredded grass. “Either of you.”

The blanket warms her, but not as much as them being here. Tension eases from her chest before there’s a shout and a round of laughter from the pack house.

“They’re so fucking loud.”

Smiles stretch across their faces as Agony reclines in his chair. “I take back what I said about motel life. Even it’s calmer than the Timbers.”

It’s true. But the Timber compound is infused with community, knit together and looking after each other. A family they’ve found. A family they’ve created.

“What did that dream mean?”

Sweat beads on Harbinger’s neck. They watch the water of the lake. She can’t keep it from them — not after everything.

“I didn’t tell you everything about it before.” Harbinger tucks her knees to her chest beneath the blanket. The firepit flickers and shivers like Agony’s hair. “About my dad.”

“You told me your parents were gone,” Flint adds softly. “You never told me how.”

She remembers that conversation in the early days between them, when Harbinger still sunk into surliness at the slightest provocation.

We could take a weekend off cases, Flint murmured. Visit your family.

Harbinger shook the ketchup bottle harder than necessary. They’re gone. No one to visit.

Flint didn’t press further. Maybe that was so Harbinger wouldn’t ask about his.

“My mom left when I was young. I don’t remember her. But my dad and I were complicated.” Harbinger twines a blanket thread around her finger. Her father always felt like a missed connection, like he wanted to care, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. When Harbinger pushed back, he gave up. Left space between them for weeks on end, locked away in his room to the sound of clinking bottles. She settles on the easiest description. “He was there, but I was alone. And when the banshee change happened, it got worse.”

Her eyes shut against the memory. Screaming out of sleep in the middle of the night, crashing to the floor, trying to escape the feeling of everything. Memories soaked into her from her sheets, her clothes, her carpet, unyielding and overwhelming and terrifying.

“My dad was the first person to touch me. He didn’t know better. He was trying to help, but that was it. We were connected. It was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.” There’s the barest hint of a smile, but it’s twisted and pained. “Well…until that point. I was sick for days after. I’m sure he thought I was dying. I thought I was dying, sweating and puking and screaming until the Diviners showed up.”

Sour taste seeps into her mouth, the same way it had then. “It didn’t take much for them to convince him that the Convent would be better for me. After that, I hardly saw him. The Diviners wanted me to focus on my ability, and to be honest…” Her lip wobbles, teeth digging into it. “My dad and I didn’t want to be around each other.”

It was hard enough before the connection. But after, even when he wasn’t within a hundred miles, he was a pounding reminder inside her. Constant. Exhausting. “When we did see each other, I felt so embarrassed. Humiliated at what a fucking mess we were. We didn’t know what to say. It amplified how much everything hurt.”

“You were a kid, Harbin.” Agony’s voice makes her want to cry. “That’s not something you could have prepared for.”

“I was such a bitch.” Breath hisses through her teeth. “We kept doing that for years, until…I shouldn’t have told him. The Diviners kept saying he was a distraction, hindering me from my purpose, and they were telling him, too. Blaming him, saying my ‘earthly connections’ kept me from fully appreciating my gift.”

She tightens the string around her finger. “I was overwhelmed. But if I blame them, then I have to blame myself. He came to visit me, but I was over it. Tired of dealing with the Diviners, tired of dealing with him…I was angry, and I was scared, and I was tired of acting like there was any sort of relationship between us. That we’d ever been any sort of family.”

Her voice wobbles. “I wanted to hurt him. Wanted to abandon him as much as he had done to me. I told him how much I hated it. Seeing him, feeling him, all of it. I told him not to bother coming anymore…”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Flint kneels beside her when her voice cracks, wrapping fingers around hers.

“That’s why you can’t put me above you.” She desperately finds his eyes, squeezing his hand tight enough for the skin to lighten. He doesn’t pull away. “That’s why you can’t focus so hard on me that you don’t take care of yourself —”

“Ok,” Flint soothes. Agony lifts her braid off the back of her neck, pushing the blanket down her shoulders until she can breathe.

The air is cool and crisp, but she still feels suffocated. “I didn’t know what it was then, but I felt it. Something pulled so tight inside me until it snapped. All his emotions, his feelings, the constant reminder of his presence, just…vanished.”

THIRTY-TWO

Harbinger

Breath swirls into Harbinger’s lungs, ballooning to fill the empty spaces in her chest, but the hollow is still there. She tugs on the front of her suit. “I told the Diviners I needed to go home. They wouldn’t allow it, so Omen and Poe got us out.”