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The atmosphere in the small interrogation room was heavy when I walked in and closed the door. Every stress and worry from the past four years came to the surface, and the desire to run burned at my heels.
I studied my brother’s face, one that I’d been more familiar with than my own at one time in my life. The fear of his hatred that I’d worked up in my mind made me realize I couldn’t do this. I could handle others not liking me and wanting to hurt me, but I couldn’t take it from my brother.
He had been the one person I’d had in my life who I thought would always have my back and never turn against me. While on the run, I hadn’t gone to him for help. It would’ve killed me if he’d looked at me with disgust, if he’d spoken the cruel words he’d said to me at the hospital.
Four years later, he’d confirmed my fears. My brother saw me as a monster, no longer his little sister. He couldn’t see past the wolf inside me, though she hadn’t changed me or made me any different from the person I’d been before the truth was revealed.
The anger and hurt I’d harbored so deeply for someone I’d admired and looked up to for so long was something else that. Being alone with him dredged up the past, and I struggled with all the reminders. The reminder that he hated me as much as I’d hated myself at one time reinforced that my childhood had been a big sham. There was no unconditional love there, which pained me in ways I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over.
Without saying a word, I turned to leave when Kyle broke the silence. “Your tattoo of the heather flowers is a nice tribute to Mom. You must’ve done it yourself because it’s good. You always had exceptional talent.”
His voice was soft and approachable. He made it sound like he didn’t want me to leave without actually saying the words—another character trait I’d never had to endure from him before. Kyle always used to tell me exactly what he wanted, never beating around the bush, but we were in unfamiliar territory now. No longer beloved siblings but on separate sides, a place I never once imagined would be the case.
My hand was still on the door handle, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it. I swallowed hard and heaved in a breath before turning around and facing my brother. As he eyed me closely, I took a moment to study him. There wasn’t hatred pouring out of him. He simply looked weary.
This was my only chance to get what I needed from him, so I built up my courage and became the badass I’d pretended to be for the past four years in order to survive.
I sat across from him and intertwined my fingers in front of me. Kyle’s eyes drifted to my hands. He frowned when he noticed the engagement ring, but didn’t say anything about it.
We both sat, appraising each other. It was surreal to see how much he’d changed and matured over the last four years. Kyle had an ever-present five o’clock shadow and an unnatural hardness to his jaw. His once easy-going smile was long gone. It was the look that seemed to wear heavily on hunters after a time.
He looked older than his years, and I realized he was doing everything he could to survive at this point, just as I was. I hated that we were at odds with each other. He was still the same older brother who’d taught me how to tie my shoes and skip stones and let me play beauty salon with him. It had never mattered how many barrettes I put in his hair. He’d smiled and let me.
He’d been my hero.
Now, I knew nothing about him. I was realizing just as the Tori who sat before him was a totally different person, the Kyle I’d known was long gone. There was no going back to how and who we were. Our time as siblings was gone and buried.
He spoke first. “Are you okay?”
Was I okay? What kind of question was that? Of course, I wasn’t okay—I’d been on the run for four years. I’d needed my big brother, and instead, he’d hunted me. Seriously, what kind of question was that?
I must’ve looked at him, dumbfounded and irritated, because he jerked his shackled hands to where I’d been stabbed.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Where your mole friend, the bitchy old librarian, stabbed me.”
Kyle clenched his jaw, but the rest of him remained motionless.
“Yeah, I’m fine now, thanks to the witch pills. They did what they were supposed to do.”
He noticeably lightened at that statement and nodded.
“Are the hunters still in business with witches? Why would you guys do that if you despise paranormal beings so much?” I hoped to get as much out of him as possible, but when my brother didn’t want to discuss something, he wasn’t letting anyone get it out of him. He was stubborn, good at only giving away what he wanted.
I’d found that trait infuriating when we were kids, especially since I was curious and fascinated by everything he did. I wanted to be just like him. I used to steal his clothes and dress like him, would eat all the things he did, watch the same movies, play the same games. My brother had been everything to me.
“Come on, Kyle, are the hunters still in business with the witches? There aren’t very many out there, are there? Do they help you out willingly? Or do you hunt them and force them to do whatever you want? Do you take away their free will? Come on, give me something.”
I hoped I could get him angry enough to answer, react, anything.
Kyle sat with his head cocked and watched me, looking bored. There wasn’t any getting through to him. He knew how to control himself, and that made him an excellent hunter. His patience and ability to compartmentalize were second to none.
He cleared his throat. “I often wondered about you over the last four years, my little sister out in the world all alone, despite trying not to. Because everything changed when you did. I couldn’t help wondering if you were alive or out killing everything in your path. If you were hurt.” He watched me with sad eyes, and there was a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
Telling him I’d also thought about him wasn’t a good idea. There was no changing the past, so why talk about my longing for my big brother, how desperately I’d missed him, and how I’d shut myself off so the pain wouldn’t overwhelm me? How I’d taken a page from his book and built up my tolerance for compartmentalization? How I’d secluded myself from friendships, a home, and a life?
“Everything did change, and nothing’s going to fix that,” I said.
“When you left, you put your idiot boyfriend in the hospital for quite a while.”
