As he reads, mucus forms on his skin. It shines under the dim light of the skylight. Not good news then, I gather. Maybe the human couple are not meeting up today after all. The boy’s eyes flash red upon conclusion, giving a small look to the doorway in distaste. Luckily the human boy had left shortly after his nose’s sudden meeting with the door. I’d hate to imagine what would have happened if he had lingered.
Xander places the letter back inside the torn envelope, no care in making it look unread, and I begin to suspect why. His possessive nature could almost be endearing if it wasn’t from a demon and it didn’t seem so sinister. Xander’s obsessive emotional attachment to Siara in some ways makes him easy to understand but in other ways, makes him spontaneous and irrational. This is the case and point as I see him lurking into the kitchen, strolling right past me as if I didn’t exist. I place the book on the side table, quite convinced now that I won’t be reading it at any point today. It wasn’t really that interesting anyway. Moving into the arch of the kitchen, I watch as he fiddles with the gas stove. I wonder if he is trying to burn the letter – because with the strange way he turns on all the knobs, it’s more likely he’ll burn down the house. The smell of gas grows in strength by the second and eventually I feel obliged to step in. ‘Stop.’
Xander freezes. He looks at me, a deer caught in headlights. Then nervously to the letter. Then back to me. Then to the stove.
‘Move. Step back.’ And he does. I turn the dials back to an off position, except one.
Pressing the igniter, a large flame quickly engulfs the iron disk, stabilising to a medium burn. As I move back, we share a knowing look. Xander dances the letter above the flames, teasing it with a fiendish smile until its corners catch. He drops the envelope into the flame. The letter burns slowly. The paper coils in a flickering display of orange flames and red embers, the words distorting and disappearing as they are eaten alive. The boy watches the fire burn for quite some time until he finally notices my wary gaze. He turns the dial off. The flame extinguishes, leaving the heaped pile of ash sitting in the middle of the hot plate.
‘What did the letter say?’ Knowing the writer, I’m sure it’s just a grossly romantic declaration of his adoration.
Xander raises his eyebrows, smug and somewhat surprised that I’ve taken an interest. It was a long letter after all, about two to three pages. Someone can’t have that many feelings. He shakes his head as if erasing the memory from his head. ‘Nothing important.’
I frown. ‘If it was, you would–’ Siara’s light footsteps reach the top of the stairs and begin to make their way down. Xander makes a quick movement to brush the ash onto the floor, flinching slightly at the touch of his hand on the still hot plate. Better him than me. The colder you are, the hotter you burn. The demon child places a bare foot over the fallen ashes, covering a majority of the mess. In a bid to look less conspicuous, I leave the kitchen, making my way back to the armchair where I was reading moments ago.
‘What’s that smell? Did you guys burn something?’ Siara says, walking past me indifferently. I don’t look up and Xander remains silent. Siara responds with an irritated sigh but ultimately loses interest.
‘We have a new place we’re going to search,’ Xander says, changing topics, not aware that he is now in the clear. ‘Master says we should go today.’ Do I now?
Siara breathes in sharply. ‘Does it have to be today? I have plans already.’
I sigh, putting my book away again for the third time today and shooting her an irritated look. The human girl stands in the archway, dressed for an outing. Her hair cascades in large loose and swooping curls past her shoulders, framing her round face and large eyes.
‘Yes,’ I say, stilted. ‘It does.’ Siara rolls her eyes as she meanders over to the front door, shrugging on a long blue coat over her beige dress. With a flick, she pulls her hair out from her collar. It shines a subtle reddish hue in the morning light. Her emerald eyes dart over to me and my insides freeze.
‘What?’ Siara looks around uncomfortably. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ I snap, a product of misplaced irritation. The words tumble out without a second thought. ‘Where are you going? It seems you always have plans.’ What am I saying? I sound like Xander.
Siara frowns, her expression becoming defensive. ‘Why do you care?’
‘I don’t. Go wherever you want. I suppose Xander and myself will just search the place by ourselves.’
‘Fine,’ Siara huffs, stuffing her hand inside the velvet pouch and tossing a food pill in her mouth. ‘If it’s even still standing.’ Striding into the other room, she swipes her bag off the table. ‘You guys are so weird today,’ she murmurs before vanishing out the front door, a large bang echoing in her wake. The silence that follows allows me to brood in peace. Some time later, Xander pokes his head out from the kitchen.
‘Why are you both so tens–’
‘We’re not. I’m not.’ My response is too quick, too sharp, but Xander says nothing and steps back into the kitchen. He slides the pile of ash on the floor under the counter with his feet before returning to sit on the couch.
‘You could have just told her she looked pretty instead of getting awkward,’ he murmurs under his breath before a chaotic mess of sounds erupts from the television. He flicks through the channels, one after the other, faster than humanly possible.
I ignore the first part of his comment. ‘I wasn’t awkward. She’s the one who became defensive.’ Xander doesn’t bother to look over, still finding amusement in pressing every button on the remote. Maybe it sounds as unconvincing as it feels. I become still. ‘That letter didn’t have anything to do with where Siara was heading to right now, did it?’
The boy shrugs, his nonchalance confirming my suspicions. I was betting that Xander’s attachment to Siara would stop him from doing anything to ever hurt her but I was wrong. Maybe Xander would let Siara get hurt if doing so would bring her closer to him.
Don’t get involved, I chant in my mind as if to ward off evil. It might as well be. If I had heeded to this philosophy earlier, I wouldn’t have seen what I saw yesterday. The chair scrapes against the floorboards as I stand quickly, causing Xander to flinch. Closing my eyes, I let out a deep sigh. I can sit back down and pretend I don’t know a thing, pretend I don’t know about the letter, pretend I didn’t see what I saw and pretend that everything is the same. Surely Siara would return home if it was clear Rye wasn’t coming. I’m sure she wouldn’t continue to wait. There’s really no need for me to go. Maybe, I’ll wait just a little bit, and then go for a walk. For myself. Yes. To get out of the house.
‘Do you have something to say?’ I snap, feeling Xander’s eyes on me. He blinks for a few moments, contemplating. The wheels churn behind his eyes before they glue themselves back to the screen in front of him, a channel finally chosen.
‘No. Nothing at all.’
19
Siara
Her body is thin and frail, her attire gaudy and irritating. She stands beside me in all her arrogance, trying to act the part of a girl that doesn’t exist. There’s no doubt a part of me wants to smash the café window’s reflection, another part wants to let myself be defeated by it. Is it so bad that just for today I had decided to try to live up to the person that Rye thought I was? I couldn’t choose him but maybe I could learn to. Maybe it would just take time. That’s what I had intended to tell him when we met. Except, that opportunity didn’t arise. I waited but he never came. Could it be that in a way, that was his answer to the question I hadn’t asked yet? He couldn’t wait.
I dawdled back through the town streets, my pride not strong enough to withstand returning back home so early and so obviously defeated. Especially in the fantastically dramatic manner in which I had left. As if things couldn’t get any worse, now things are weird between myself and the ice demon. How did this even happen? It wasn’t even that big of a deal. So he saw Rye try to kiss me, so what?
A stern glare through the glass brings me back to the present. I grimace. It’s evident I had been blankly staring at a squat, intimidating woman, drinking her coffee through the café window. I divert my eyes to the road. Despite my erased existence in this world, the irony of people only noticing me at the worst of times is not lost on me. I sigh, fatigued by my own humanity. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have that invisible glamour like the demons do.
Entering the café, my boots trail soft thuds on the recycled floorboards. The sound of gushing steam and chattering patrons accompanies the rustically decorated room. I breathe in the musky smell of coffee beans, never realising how much I had missed these insignificant but normal human privileges. A loud grunt draws my eye, near the doorway at the window table. The same stern glare familiarly judges my outfit. My smile slowly drops as she relinquishes her stare and focuses back to her newspaper.
After finally walking out of the bustling café, a coffee firmly in grasp, I return to the meeting place in hope of seeing Rye. Maybe he’s just late. By an hour. Or two. I sigh, giving up all final traces of hope. The lake sits as it had sat before, empty and still. Coffee in hand and coat hooded, I wander along the lake’s shore, stepping in between a line of thick bushes and the water’s edge. It isn’t until the offroad path opens up and I reach a small patch of grass looking out onto the dreary water that I notice how far I have travelled from the small town. Despite my willingness to re-join that world, its distance acts as a small comfort.
There’s a light thud as I fall back on the damp grass, making sure to not spill the other small comfort I have in my grasp. I cave into the urge to close my eyes. The chirps and whistles flying overhead remind me that although I’m alone, I’m still home. For a few minutes, I lie there breathing, taking in the only real time to myself I’ve had in months. A chilled wind bristles through the trees, through my hair and out over the lake. The birds stop singing, one by one disappearing in a fluttering of wings and feathers. The last and nearest bird flutters away. It’s so slight that if I wasn’t listening to nature already, I might have missed it. My breath releases in one slow sigh as I open my eyes.
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were following me.’
The individual strolls out from the surrounding trees, the sound of mudded footsteps drawing closer. The ice demon’s stoic face peers down at me, his icy-coloured hair falling in gentle waves just shy of his clear blue eyes and his skin so pale that within this low dreary light, I’m reminded just how different we are and just how otherworldly he is. ‘Lucky you know better then.’
I sit up. ‘What do you want? You could have just sent Xander.’
The demon comes to stand beside me. ‘I was just making sure you weren’t trying to run away again.’
Frowning, I look up. ‘I thought you said you didn’t care where I went,’ I chide. He turns away quickly. My lips curl. ‘Plus, that doesn’t sound like something I would do.’ For the faintest moment, I swear I see the crease of a smile just out of view.
‘So where’s the human?’ he says, clearing his throat and letting his face fall neutral.
