Page 124 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Are you okay?” I ask again, irritation in my voice at the effort and pain it is taking even to communicate.

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

Alice snatches the monitor from me. “Can you keep it down, then? We’re dying.”

The receiver in my hand shrieks like it is being tortured, the sound piercing my skull, and then goes dead. I am pretty sure that Rafe just crushed his monitor.

Alice groans and pops the cork off the small vial. She sniffs it and gags, which turns my stomach. “I’m not sure we should drink any more unidentified substances,” Alice says, pondering the liquid and swirling it around a little.

“I don’t care if this kills me or turns me into a frog. I just need the pain to go away,” I say, popping the cork of my own and downing it in one gulp. It’s sour, and it tastes as bad as it smells, though there is a lingering sweetness that isn’t completely unpleasant. “Whatever my end is, I’m going to face it beneath a burning shower,” I say as I grab my phone and struggle to my feet. With immense effort and concentration, I slowly make my way up the stairs.

After my shower, I’m feeling a little less like death, more like almost dead. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my shivering body as I sit on the edge of my bed. I stare down at my phone, dreading checking the messages and seeing what damage I’ve done, but perhaps if I do it now, I might then die, and I won’t have to deal with the consequences. A message pops up on the screen before I’ve gathered the courage to unlock it.

Unknown

What happened?

I ignore the message and curl up in my bed, still wrapped in my towel. The nausea comes and goes, but slowly, the hangover starts to subside, and I drift in and out of consciousness for the next few hours.

A loud noise in the hall outside my room wakes me, and though I am feeling a bit better, my head still throbs at the sound. A snarl rips from my throat as I pull my pillow over my head.

“Time to get up!” Rafe shouts from behind my door.

“Fuck off.”

My door opens. “So,” Rafe says. “How’s the hangover?” He sounds brighter, more alive than he has since the Fall. Unfortunately, that isn’t going to last, given I’m about to rip his throat out.

With all the grace of a beached whale, moans and groans included, I roll onto my other side, turning to give him my back.

“Alice is on the floor in her bedroom. I think she’s dying. You appear to be too. Am I to become an orphan?” he asks, and my brows draw at the joke. I’m not sure Rafe has ever told a joke before.

I flop onto my back and sit up. Studying him closely, I realize he looks . . . better. His skin is clear and glowing, and his wounds are healing well. I read about this. It’s the turning point day. It’s called the cambiare, or “the change.” I didn’t believe it when I read about it, yet here is the proof. He looks healthy, and while he’s still transforming, he looks like a demon. His horns are still tiny and admittedly adorable, but he seems taller and more comfortable in his skin.

“Either get in bed and cuddle me or go away,” I grumble. He rolls his eyes, and I am expecting him to turn and walk away, but he surprises me by climbing into bed with me. I blink as he leans back against the headboard and opens his arms.

“I’m about to change my mind,” he growls when I don’t immediately shift into them. I scramble into his arms and cuddle against him. He’s so like Connor, yet not, his energy darker and heavier.

“I won’t do this for Zach or Zane. So don’t tell them.”

I curl up against him, allowing the warm safety of his arms to soothe me. It might surprise those who don’t know him well, but Rafe has a grounding and comforting presence. I’ve always felt it, and so did Connor. It’s why Rafe’s always been the Morningstar I related to most. Our darkness calls to each other, and I think we both find solace in recognizing that it exists in the other. Maybe Rafe was always supposed to be my brother, just like Alice was always meant to be my sister.

“Bad party?” Rafe asks.

“I’m pretty sure we were drugged,” I say, exhaling heavily and bracing myself for his reaction.

Rafe’s whole body goes rigid against me. “What?” he asks, his voice tightening. “Who?”

“Don’t know.” I curl closer against him, savoring his warmth.

Rafe growls.

“It’s fine, Rafe. The headmaster knows.”

Rafe growls again. Oh yeah, he’s definitely relaxing into his demon.

I sigh. “Can you stop growling? It’s so loud, and my head hurts.” He growls again, but it’s softer this time. “Thank you.”

Low rumbles continue to vibrate his chest, and I must be a little messed up because while the sound is nearly feral, it is just another source of comfort to me. It takes a few moments for him to regain enough control to speak. “I don’t like you guys going without me and this shit happening.”