Page 156 of Echoes of the Banshee

“I’m not.” I bristle.

“You’re obsessed. It’s kind of sad, actually. She’s moved on, you should too.”

My fists clench at my sides. “That’s not what this is. She’s my friend. I know something’s wrong.”

She laughs again, louder this time, and her friends echo it like a chorus.

“God, Zair. She’s probably holed up in Benson’s room right now. While you’re down here chasing your own tail. She doesn’t need rescuing, she’s not some damsel.” Her eyes flash, sharp and cold. “She’s just not thinking about you. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

“How do you know that?” I ask, voice low. For a second, something flickers behind her eyes. She recovers quickly, giving me a condescending smile.

“Because I know her better than you do. We’ve been through more than you can imagine. You’re not in her orbit, you’re just… an annoyance.”

That lands harder than I want it to. Anita leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her lips as if she’s already won something I don’t understand.

And maybe she has. But I can’t afford to care.

I leave without letting her confuse me more. With every step, her words echo in my mind.

Benson and Thea.

Holed up in his room.

My chest aches as doubt creeps in. Could it really be that simple? No. Thea wouldn’t disappear like this. Not without a word. And Benson, Benson’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that to me. Would he?

I call. No answer. I rush to Benson’s dorm, heart pounding. When I get there, no one’s home.

I head to Otherfell and a security guard comes running up to me.

“Zair?” he calls, slightly out of breath.

“How can I help you, officer?” I ask, manners coming out.

“It’s about Thea.”

Benson

In Sickness and in Hostage Situations

Pain.

All-encompassing.

My blood burns.

Thea sleeps against my side. I lean over and inhale her scent. I have no idea what she smells like. Goblins aren’t exactly florists. But she smells like safety. That smell you get when you first walk in your house that you can never hold onto.

My mind clears for a minute, the pain no longer hijacking every thought.

She’s cradling her arm in her sleep. Whimpering.

When she was awake, she’d barely shown any side of the pain. I’d thought that it was not even affecting her.

I should’ve known better. I saw the tick of her lips. The way she was holding her arm away. She knows what she’s doing.

How she baited Grunt. She knew how to get information while being held captive. How does one learn that information?

Someone has kidnapped her before.