Page 4 of The Banshee’s Unmistakable Love

My lips fight against me, dying to curve up into a smile. At this point, I’m not sure if she’s even trying to pretend to be Blair. She should know her sister, and her sister has the spice tolerance of a demon.

Which I suppose she’s similar to, in a way. Banshees are like cousins to demons, but not entirely the same.

I raise a brow, wondering if she’ll finally admit she’s not Blair. “The master of spice doesn’t want something spicy?”

She takes a deep breath, her elbow twitching again. “On a spice cleanse—to rest my palette.”

“Sounds about right.” I nod, acting as if this is something Blair would do. It’s not, though. “So, what’s new with Briar? I already know what’s new with you, but I haven’t spoken to your sister since I was in town last.”

While it feels strange to ask Briar about herself in this way, I am curious what she’s been up to. Blair only reveals me so much when I ask, always telling me to reach out myself.

The feelings I’ve secretly had are something Blair loves to tease me about. Especially since I’ve been too nervous to make any sort of move all these years. Briar is just so reserved, I’ve never been sure if she reciprocates the way I feel.

Now is when I will figure it all out, even if it takes a game of pretend.

Briar’s eyes dart around before she turns her attention back to the menu…even though she already told me what she’s getting. “Briar’s, uh, just doing her usual things. Reading, working from home as an insurance agent.”

“So, she really did end up in an independent field,” I comment, watching for any slight change in her face.

Her gaze flickers up to mine again, and she nods. “Well, she’s always preferred to be on her own—in most cases.”

That much hasn’t changed. I’ve always wondered how Blair and Briar ended up so different. Where Blair is social and loves to be out and about, Briar has always liked to stay in, and not really associated much with, well, anyone.

Even me.

She would do things occasionally with Blair and I, but very sporadically. When she would join us on one of our adventures, she always gave off a nervous vibe. I’ve always wondered why.

Or more so, I’ve always hoped her nervousness was for the same reason as my own—a shared attraction, feelings.

“Does she have a partner?” I ask blatantly, my heart beating faster as anticipation fills every bone in my body.

Gods, I hope she doesn’t. I don’t want to have missed my chance after all these years. I won’t let her slip through my fingers this time. Now that we’re older—and I’ve developed more confidence—I’m going to tell her how I feel.

After she’s done pretending that she’s Blair.

Just as she opens her mouth, the server pops over to our table, interrupting the moment. Quickly, I place my order, Briar doing the same. When they leave the table, I turn my attention back to Briar.

She doesn’t say anything at first, her eyes just scanning my face as if she’s trying to figure out something. Every second that passes has my heart filling with dread—is it taking her this long to answer the partner question because she’s seeing someone?

“No, she doesn’t,” Briar finally spits out, and my heart immediately calms.

Even my shoulders feel lighter at her words, like a weight lifted. One that’s been there since the moment I left town. There’s still lingering worry that I’ll somehow lose the courage I’ve built up before I get to tell her my feelings, but this is step one…out of like, fifty.

I nod, my tongue finally coordinating with my brain. “What about you, seeing anyone new these days?”

The truth is, I already know all about Blair’s dating life. We’ve done weekly FaceTime calls to update each other on our lives ever since I left for school. It’s easier than texting throughout the week—for her at least, since she’s a chronically poor texter.

I have to act the part though, and right now my part in this is to play along with Briar’s little game.

“Still living the free life.” The way Briar says Blair’s catchphrase is so believable that if it had been the first words out of her mouth, I might have doubted who I was talking to.

Honestly, if I hadn’t been so attentive to the fine details of Briar all these years, I probably wouldn’t know the difference between them. Their teachers never could tell them apart, even with their opposite demeanors. They’ve always been good at impersonating each other.

Briar could never fool me, though.

I’ve spent too much time observing her. Too many hours memorizing the way she moves, the way she talks, the things she likes. Even when I tried to push her from my mind, thoughts of her crept back in.

When I was away, I saw her in everything I did, everywhere I went. Her favorite brands and products jumped out at me when I went grocery shopping. Anything remotely similar to the scent of her perfume made her pop into my mind.