Chapter 41

Talia was gone. She was either at work or running errands of some sort. Maybe she was even scouting.

Unless she had gone out for lunch herself.

He wouldn’t put it past her to drive all the way out to Philadelphia to keep up her social life. He rarely paid attention to what his sister did during the daytime. Until recently he had always been asleep around now.

Not today.

He dropped the two sets of training claws on the counter and walked into the bathroom, peeling off clothes as he went. Right now what he really wanted was a good hot shower. A sweater and an undershirt were only toasty warm when the person wearing them wasn’t facing sixty-mile-an-hour winds. The only benefit to the ride home had been that it had cut out the need for a cold shower.

He had gotten too close.

He finished stripping down and turned on the water. The rising steam soon filled the small bathroom and covered the mirror in fog. When the water was just short of scalding he stepped in and reached for the soap. Just the way he liked it. He could use a little pain right now—maybe it would distract him.

Too fecking close.

Hot water rained down on him. He raised his face to the pinpoints of pain as if they would somehow burn away all of the thoughts running through his mind. It was a meditation of sorts. Face this pain so that he didn’t have to face the other. He shut off the water after a few minutes and found a towel to wrap around his waist. Tried not to think about what else had been wrapped around his waist that day.

Speaking of too close…

If he was honest with himself, he would admit that it had been a while since he had thought of her as a little girl, no matter what she might believe. For now, that was easier. As long as she thought that, she would be less likely to notice how much his eyes were starting to drift to places that they had no right to linger.

Seventeen years old.

Jailbait, by anybody else’s terms.

But then, he hadn’t been much older. Called on his eighteenth birthday, and he would forever be eighteen. Wisdom, experience—those could change. The rest of him never would. The rest of him would never be other than a healthy eighteen-year-old… with all that it entailed.

He found some sweatpants and a T-shirt in his drawers. Turned on the television. There was nothing but mindless crap on, but mindless was exactly what he was hoping for.

A few hours of that and he was ready to toss the damned set out the window. Somehow, the people making television had found some way of making mindless programming even more idiotic in the last twenty years. So that’s why he never bothered to watch.

It might be worth it to try and get some sleep.

It didn’t work, though. Of course it didn’t. He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling for an eternity. Sweet mercy, he would give anything for a sleeping pill that would do a damned thing. Even a shot of something. That was supposed to help a person sleep, right?

He gave up. Slid off his bed and paced the room. When he looked up, the clock on his dresser said ten-thirty. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. He was officially getting no sleep that day. It didn’t matter. Four demons—that was plenty to make up for one day’s sleep.

Better eat something.

He pulled a frozen dinner out of the freezer from sheer habit and threw it into the microwave on autopilot. He put on some milk to boil as an afterthought. He vaguely recalled his sister showing him a box of powdered cocoa mix that she’d bought.

Today was definitely a good day for it.

The cocoa was done first. He mixed it carefully and allowed himself to enjoy it for a few brief moments. He made it nearly halfway through before he remembered that morning, and her half-empty mug.

He closed his eyes against it.

There was no finishing the cocoa. He dumped it unceremoniously down the sink. He sighed. Rested his weight on his hands, leaned against the counter and rubbed his eyes.

This is why he didn’t get close.

This is what happened when he got to close.

Somebody was coming up the stairs. His sister. He’d know her anywhere. He always knew.

She walked in to find him still leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Heya, Big Brother. What’s with you?” she asked. She threw her purse in the direction of the couch.

He didn’t turn around. “Right now there seems to be an empty box of cereal pretty close, but I wouldn’t say it’s ‘with’ me.”

Talia made a face. “Don’t be a dork,” she scolded. “Seriously! What’s up? You’re all… broody.”

“You’ve been watching too much Buffy.”

“Why? Because I called you a dork?”

“Because you’re using words like ‘broody’.”

“Broody’s a word! Besides, that’s what you’re doing.”

Ryan sighed. “I’ve got… things on my mind. I’m fine. How was work?”

“Nope, sorry. You’ve used up your topic-changing allowance. Spill!”

He turned and glared at his sister. “I don’t feel like it,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Fine, fine,” she said. “Oh! I know! We can do it like ‘Twenty Questions’! Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

The gears in his head stalled out at this misdirection. “….Yes,” he said finally. “Bigger than a breadbox.”

“Yay!” She clapped her hands. “Mineral?”

“No.”

“Human?”

“Aye.”

“Blue eyes?”

“Bw– what? Wait! How do you…?”

Talia grinned blithely at him. “I always know what’s in your head, Zeus.”

He rolled his eyes. “And there’s that ridiculous nickname again. Where do you come up… with…”

…Oh.