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Pollux tried to step closer, but all I had to do was push, and he went nowhere.
“I. Didn’t. Know.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
With a slight extension at the elbows, I shoved the two apart. “You’ve known long enough,” I told Pollux. “The only ones to blame are trapped a thousand miles beneath the ocean. There’s no reason to continue to hurt each other.”
Paris dropped his arms, but his hands remained in fists. Pollux shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat. He still wore the same bitter smile, but it dropped as he turned away.
“Someone found the seal?” Paris pulled a chair away from the small table and sat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re a fucking child.”
This time I wasn’t fast enough. Paris flew past me, body blurring as he launched into Pollux. The two of them crashed into the wall. And through it.
Despite Paris’s leanness, and Pollux’s bulk, the two were evenly matched. I stepped over the plaster, stone, and rubble, unhurried. I had warned Pollux not to antagonize my brother. He’d brought this on himself.
It wasn’t until Paris straddled Pollux, and lifted a stone over his head that I intervened. And only because the wind had picked up and I wasn’t wearing shoes.
“Enough.” Smacking the stone away with one hand, I hauled Paris to his feet with the other.
“Saved by big brother again.”
I had started to offer a hand to my friend, but now I pushed him back into the mud. “Fuck off, Pollux.”
Slapping Paris on the back, I nudged him to the house. He shrugged, dislodging my hand. “I’ve existed for hundreds of thousands of years. You don’t need to protect me.”
“I know that.” I did. But he was still the only blood I had left, and the guilt I carried was nothing to what Paris shouldered.
He lifted an eyebrow, and I got it. I said one thing but did something completely different. “Let’s go inside.”
The rock wall Pollux landed on crumbled when he stood. “Not you,” I called over my shoulder. “You can fix my kitchen, and then my fucking wall.”
Leo
Istared at the tin ceiling of my bedroom, tracing the design with my gaze as the sun rose.
I hadn’t been sleeping well. Actually. I hadn’t been dreaming well. That was more accurate.
The sun glistened off the copper color. Since my first day of class, the weather had been unusually warm and sunny. I’d even managed to get sunburned on my nose and cheeks. As a red-head, it was pretty easy to do, but I hadn’t expected it.
Here we were. A week straight of sunshine in England. Deep into September, and I hadn’t needed the umbrella I now kept in my bag.
Turning on my side, I reached for my phone. The alarm I’d set was pointless. I’d been awake this morning before the sun.
My dream had…
Dropping my phone, I pressed my hands against my eyes until bright sparks of yellow erupted.
My dream had been horrible.
I had been me.
But not.
My hands were pale, with broken nails and dirt ground under them. I’d been hiding. One hand pressed against my mouth, so I couldn’t be heard. My stalker never appeared, but his footsteps kicked loose rocks, and glided over the stones.
Pressing my hands harder to my eyes, I tried to forget the flash of silver I’d dreamed. It had swept from above me, coming faster and faster.
I’d even felt it. Steel against my neck. Slicing. Severing.
