Page 137 of Pareidolia

CHAPTER 15

NOX

There’s no taking back what I’ve done. The moment Aspen walks out of the fire tower, I can feel the distance he puts between us—all the pieces of me that I poured into him are calling out and telling me that I need to bring him back.

I’m not sure if I could change it now, even if I killed him and devoured his body until there was nothing left. I’m certain that I wouldn’t want to take it back. His blissed-out expression while he was dying beneath me was something that I’ll carry with me until the universe turns to stardust and I’m nothing but a shadow again.

I do know that I can’t simply stay in this tower and wait for him to come back—my wings twitch in irritation. Even though this is a form I assumed because I enjoy it, I’ve been in it so long that it feels like a part of me.

The wings feel like they’re mine, and they’re telling me I need to move. I need to follow.

I need to watch and see what my little monster does now that he thinks he’s slipped his leash.

And I need to know if the tether I put in place is enough to keep him close.

My body slips to a shadowy mist as I follow him along the edge of the forest. I’ve been into the town before in this form, though it was long enough ago that there weren’t things like cars and lights. Now, I slide along the edge of the trees and watch as Aspen stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and comes out with gloves. I’m fascinated with the little splatter of red at the back of his neck, turning his hair a dark brown as his blood dries. He keeps brushing against the center of his chest, running along the lines that would have left scars if he’d simply been attacked.

It’s been a long while since I’ve observed simple human rituals. I usually watch them in the forest, gathered around fires and talking in low, hushed voices to their friends. I don’t see them walking down the street, casually chatting with one another. Their smiles are genuine, their warmth real. The desire for community, for affection, for acknowledgement from the people around them is so strong it burns against my skin. The human condition of needing to be needed is an emotion I’ve tasted for so long it’s nearly flavorless.

And then there’s Aspen.

Aspen, who stands amongst the heated throng as a cool pulse of disinterest.

Aspen, who looks at the people around him with a level of disdain that makes him stand apart, a lone light in a crowd of dull colors.

Aspen burns red.

When one of the older people in town stops him and says something, he forces a smile, but I can feel a spark of irritation pulse through his otherwise calm nature. He doesn’t want to be here any more than I do. Like he can sense me here, he looks over his shoulder, his eyes raking the area where I’m hidden in the shadows of the trees that line the edge of the town.

My little monster can feel the distance between us, whether he wants to admit it or not—his hand rubs his chest again, a brief, almost irritated touch that ends with him forcing a smile for the person he’s speaking with before he waves and turns away. The man he was speaking with doesn’t see it, but I delight in watching the pleasant expression he plastered to his face drop the moment he knows no one’s watching him. He blows out another low breath, like being around this many people is actually a chore, and the annoyance that mixes with his apathy stings delightfully on the back of my tongue.

When he slips into a public gym and comes out a half hour later with the blood washed from his hair and a frown on his lips, it’s almost a shame to see it gone. I liked the way it clung to his skin—proof beneath his clothes that he came apart for me in more ways than one.

It’s all right… I can always make him bleed again.

He’s still touching his chest when he walks to a nearby store and comes out a few minutes later with a bag full of food.

Finally, he drives to the edge of town, to a house that’s been empty for months. I know, because it’s beside the forest—you can see the back windows from the trees.

Aspen stops in the driveway, and his fingers drum unhappily against his thigh in a steady rhythm that I can taste at the back of my throat. His heartbeat lives inside my chest now, and it speeds up the longer he stands in front of the empty house.

His eyes flick back in my direction, and his hand lifts, rubbing his chest again.

The temptation to spill from the trees and take him back into the shadows and darkness is a real, palpable thing. It’s strange, not following my instinct and desires—I’m not a creature who denies myself. When I want something, I take it. When I want to kill a human, to drink them dry of emotions until they’re nothing but a husk on the ground and food for the worms, I do it.

But Aspen… Aspen makes me take pause.

I want to know that my shadows are so deep in him that he can’t walk away.

I want to know that he’s really mine, and it’s that desire more than anything that allows him to walk back to his car.

Aspen glances between the road that leads back to the forest and his car. Can he hear it calling him? Can he feel me close by?

Does he realize that no matter what he does, he’s never getting away from the Duskfen Forest now that he belongs to the monster who lurks in its shadows?

Can he hear the way my shadows are calling him home?

CHAPTER 16