‘Is this about…’ I swallow hard. ‘Charlotte?’
It feels foreign, like the word isn’t meant for me to use.
Xander nods. ‘It seems like even the Master has been trying to get away from her. He keeps disappearing without a trace. Well, really, it doesn’t matter where he’s going, the point is that he’s leaving me alone. Alone with her. It’s awful.’
Disappearing? Even with his truly beloved by his side he still vanishes. Typical.
‘Have you told him about how you feel about her?’ I ask, fully aware that even if the boy did, nothing would come of it. Xander responds with a stunted chuff, echoing a similar notion.
‘Siara, I throw things at her but they can’t even hit her,’ he whines. ‘They just pass right through her stupid ghost head. It’s not fair!’
Taking another slow sip of my tea, I attempt to conceal my smirk. ‘I see. That is unfortunate.’
Xander follows me intently as I wade through the clothes hanging in my wardrobe. I realise he’s waiting for an answer. ‘Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.’
His eyes beam like little stars. I laugh a little, flattered by the excitement. ‘I’m going to have a shower and then I’ll meet you downstairs. We can go buy some snacks later, sound good? I’ll even let you choose this time.’
Xander grins, voicing an incomprehensible sound of joy before skipping out of the room and leaving me to shower.
Passing the mirror, I finally get an idea of where Nero might be. The mark resides intricately detailed on my stomach, just below my chest, above the large jagged hole in my dress. I trace the outward swirls with my fingers. It sits missably nude, blending into my skin like a faded scar. A discoloration that could easily mean nothing special; especially alongside the very real scars that present shockingly across my stomach from my latest life-threatening experience.
Steam fills the small bathroom with a warm fog and as I wipe the mirror clear again, something shifts behind my eyes, an unsettling darkness. I’m sure it’s nothing. Nothing that can be noticed by others anyway.
Cleaned, refreshed and wearing warmer clothes, I stroll out to the hallway, spotting Xander at the end of the landing, fidgeting nervously. He didn’t make it very far. His face is tense and a low murmur hisses from him as he argues with someone at the foot of the stairs.
‘Xander, what are you doing…’
My eyes flick over to the presence behind him. The ice demon looks up, surprised and, for the briefest moment, even happy to see me. It’s short lived, his expression darkening. My gut fills with a mix of nausea and dread as our eyes make contact, and I immediately know what he wants to ask. I force myself to bite first.
‘You look… annoyed.’
The comment seems to agitate him further. ‘I am.’
I walk down a few steps. ‘At me?’
‘Of course.’
The small toad demon stands awkwardly between us at the base of the stairs. ‘Master, Siara has only just woken up. Maybe you could come back lat–’
‘Xander, leave.’ William’s tone is sharp and to the point. Xander glares in defiant protest. A sense of irrational panic strikes at the thought of being alone with the ice demon.
‘Xander, stay,’ I say, mimicking the orderly assertion. Xander blinks as if he doesn’t quite compute. In the following silence, he peeks meekly at his master.
William’s gaze remains cold, unimpressed. ‘We need to talk, Siara.’
I bite my lip, my suspicions validated. He’s going to reprimand me like a child, which is rich considering he’s not that much older than me. Give or take a hundred years. It doesn’t matter anyway as I’m not backing down.
‘I don’t want to talk. And maybe Xander prefers to stay. You never ask him what he wants. You should treat him better – he’s not your slave.’
William clenches his jaw. The demon child seemingly shrinks even smaller between our hostile glares.
‘I don’t care what he wants. He’s going to leave now.’ William’s red eyes emerge, ending the debate. Xander slinks down the last few steps, glancing back apologetically to me before disappearing behind the corner. An awkward silence follows. Eventually, I concede, walking down to the bottom of the stairs as well, arms crossed and outwardly wearing my disinterest. William leans against the archway to the lounge, eyeing me.
‘So?’ he says, frankly. I stare back at him, confused. The demon’s appearance looks more dishevelled than usual. His white hair is a little more roughed, snowflakes caught in its chaos. His collar sports an unevenness under his coat. My mind detours to Charlotte, a petty bitterness rising. As usual, I push the thought away and bury it deep down.
‘So what? You’re the one that wanted to talk.’
‘So, are you okay?’ he says, with a bristling attitude. I scoff loudly, willing myself to look away from his dark eyes.
‘Why couldn’t you have asked that in front of–’
‘Siara, just answer the question.’
‘I’m fine,’ I say, my voice taking on a sarcastic sharpness. Sometimes I wonder what Charlotte looks like. Isn’t it weird that she was inside my head and yet I know nothing about her. I scrape my damp hair up into a messy bun and plan my escape from this uncomfortable conversation.
‘Good,’ he says, barely a murmur under his breath. He looks away, an unreadable expression shadowing his face.
‘Fantastic,’ I chide. Another bout of silence falls between us. ‘Is that all? If so – great talk. I’m going to go and find Xander now. I’m sure he hasn’t gotten far.’ I move for the door, frantic avoidance etching its way through my body.
You’re almost there.
Just a bit further.
Home stretch.
‘Xander was awake. He saw you go with Marxel. Voluntarily,’ he calls after me. I freeze in my tracks, fingers on the door. ‘Why did you go with him?’ he continues. ‘Are you mad? Because that’s the only explanation I can think of.’
Ah, the question I was trying to avoid. I shrug. ‘Possibly. That’s yet to be decided. And, look, I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I didn’t really think it through.’
