Thad’s lips thinned. “Good question.”
“Have you ever considered they’re all bad? Maybe neither of us needs to be around any immortals. I mean, what does Nïx want with you anyway?”
“I think she and the others want me to fight the Møriør. But I just . . . I’m not sure I could take somebody down. I can’t believe how bad I hurt you. Jo, I could’ve killed you.”
Rune had had his doubts about the boy when he’d been hunched over Josephine with his fangs bared. No longer. Thaddeus Brayden was a good kid.
“It’s cool,” she said. “You jogged loose some memories for me, so no harm, no foul.”
From her childhood?
“I was only using a fraction of my strength, sis. I’m wicked strong.”
She grinned, and he matched her. They resembled each other much more when they smiled. Rune was noticing other similarities as well—the cadences of their speech, their humor, their mannerisms.
Because this boy had learned from Josephine, who’d been just a girl herself, taking care of a baby while living on the streets.
When Thad asked about the night she’d been shot and the months after, she admitted to meting out punishment, but he took it in stride.
She recounted that grim night and her struggles with her powers. Then she told him, “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’d gone to that wake intending to steal you and your new puppy, planning to ride off into the sunset together.” She gave a humorless laugh, as if her idea had been idiotic.
“You ever think about coming back for me?”
“Every damn day. I wore those bullets strung around my neck to remind me I’d only hurt you. I kept up with your life as best as I could, and over the years it just seemed to get better and better.”
Thad peered at her intently. “So what changed?”
“I saw you in this city. With Nïx. And then I learned about the Lore.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Two-week newbie here.”
“Not much longer here,” Thad said. “You mentioned you had some clues about where we came from. For the last few months, even before the island, I’ve been having these crazy dreams. I think they’re connected to our past.”
“What kind of dreams?”
“I see fires and earthquakes and portals sucking at my feet. I dreamed I was crossing the universe, and I was looking down at a baby.”
“Thad”—she swallowed audibly—“you were looking down at yourself. You’ve been dreaming my memories. You must’ve harvested them when I fed you my blood on the journey.”
“Journey?”
She took a deep breath. “We come from a place called Apparitia, the realm of phantoms. We’re Apparitians. Or we were. You were born the day our world ended. . . .”
What the hells?
SEVENTY
Our mother was so brave and selfless,” Thad finally said. He’d gone quiet once Jo had finished her story. “I’ve seen her face in your memories. You take after her.”
Jo’s brows drew together. “Thank you.” She gauged his expression, wondering how he was doing with all this information.
“What about our dad?”
“I don’t remember him well, just vague impressions—like you had of me. I get the sense he wanted to stay with us, but always got called away to go fight wars.”
“I keep thinking maybe he could be alive,” Thad said.
“After so many years, I don’t know if you should hold out too much hope. I just want to remember more so I can make sense of things.”
“We’re Apparitians,” he muttered. “How weird.”
“Yeah, we’re pretty much aliens.” (Secretly, she’d always known it.)
“Should I call you Jo or Kierra?”
“I’ve been Jo longer than Kierra,” she said with a shrug. “Was this too much for you? My brain felt like it was going to break from just this one memory.”
“Nah, I’m good. Just have one question . . . Could I have been a cuter baby?”
She gave a surprised laugh. “No. Nor a louder one!” They were sharing a grin when fingers of light reached them. Sunrise. She’d been dreading it, wanting to talk with Thad for days more. “I should probably head out,” she said, trying for a casual tone. “Maybe I’ll drop by next week or something.” How am I gonna leave?
“Next week?” His voice scaled an octave.
Her heart sank. “I mean, or whenever. I’m not going to intrude in your life. We can take it slow. Plan a visit here or there.”
“Intrude? I thought . . .” He examined the armrest of his chair. “Thought you were gonna stay here with us.”
“Oh! Ohh.”
“We’ve got all this room. You’d have a wing to yourself.”
“Thad, I’ve got to get back to my motel.”
“Why?”
Because she needed to find other freaks? Nope. Been there, done that. Because she needed to maintain her Thad memorabilia? He was right here, holding his breath, hoping she’d move in!
Because she needed to be there in case Rune was looking for her?
Screw that. She would move out of her motel and find another one, refusing to look like she’d been waiting on him to show up.
“Being around MizB is weird,” she told him honestly. “Case you haven’t noticed, I don’t play well with others.”
“Have you ever considered they’re all bad? Maybe neither of us needs to be around any immortals. I mean, what does Nïx want with you anyway?”
“I think she and the others want me to fight the Møriør. But I just . . . I’m not sure I could take somebody down. I can’t believe how bad I hurt you. Jo, I could’ve killed you.”
Rune had had his doubts about the boy when he’d been hunched over Josephine with his fangs bared. No longer. Thaddeus Brayden was a good kid.
“It’s cool,” she said. “You jogged loose some memories for me, so no harm, no foul.”
From her childhood?
“I was only using a fraction of my strength, sis. I’m wicked strong.”
She grinned, and he matched her. They resembled each other much more when they smiled. Rune was noticing other similarities as well—the cadences of their speech, their humor, their mannerisms.
Because this boy had learned from Josephine, who’d been just a girl herself, taking care of a baby while living on the streets.
When Thad asked about the night she’d been shot and the months after, she admitted to meting out punishment, but he took it in stride.
She recounted that grim night and her struggles with her powers. Then she told him, “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’d gone to that wake intending to steal you and your new puppy, planning to ride off into the sunset together.” She gave a humorless laugh, as if her idea had been idiotic.
“You ever think about coming back for me?”
“Every damn day. I wore those bullets strung around my neck to remind me I’d only hurt you. I kept up with your life as best as I could, and over the years it just seemed to get better and better.”
Thad peered at her intently. “So what changed?”
“I saw you in this city. With Nïx. And then I learned about the Lore.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Two-week newbie here.”
“Not much longer here,” Thad said. “You mentioned you had some clues about where we came from. For the last few months, even before the island, I’ve been having these crazy dreams. I think they’re connected to our past.”
“What kind of dreams?”
“I see fires and earthquakes and portals sucking at my feet. I dreamed I was crossing the universe, and I was looking down at a baby.”
“Thad”—she swallowed audibly—“you were looking down at yourself. You’ve been dreaming my memories. You must’ve harvested them when I fed you my blood on the journey.”
“Journey?”
She took a deep breath. “We come from a place called Apparitia, the realm of phantoms. We’re Apparitians. Or we were. You were born the day our world ended. . . .”
What the hells?
SEVENTY
Our mother was so brave and selfless,” Thad finally said. He’d gone quiet once Jo had finished her story. “I’ve seen her face in your memories. You take after her.”
Jo’s brows drew together. “Thank you.” She gauged his expression, wondering how he was doing with all this information.
“What about our dad?”
“I don’t remember him well, just vague impressions—like you had of me. I get the sense he wanted to stay with us, but always got called away to go fight wars.”
“I keep thinking maybe he could be alive,” Thad said.
“After so many years, I don’t know if you should hold out too much hope. I just want to remember more so I can make sense of things.”
“We’re Apparitians,” he muttered. “How weird.”
“Yeah, we’re pretty much aliens.” (Secretly, she’d always known it.)
“Should I call you Jo or Kierra?”
“I’ve been Jo longer than Kierra,” she said with a shrug. “Was this too much for you? My brain felt like it was going to break from just this one memory.”
“Nah, I’m good. Just have one question . . . Could I have been a cuter baby?”
She gave a surprised laugh. “No. Nor a louder one!” They were sharing a grin when fingers of light reached them. Sunrise. She’d been dreading it, wanting to talk with Thad for days more. “I should probably head out,” she said, trying for a casual tone. “Maybe I’ll drop by next week or something.” How am I gonna leave?
“Next week?” His voice scaled an octave.
Her heart sank. “I mean, or whenever. I’m not going to intrude in your life. We can take it slow. Plan a visit here or there.”
“Intrude? I thought . . .” He examined the armrest of his chair. “Thought you were gonna stay here with us.”
“Oh! Ohh.”
“We’ve got all this room. You’d have a wing to yourself.”
“Thad, I’ve got to get back to my motel.”
“Why?”
Because she needed to find other freaks? Nope. Been there, done that. Because she needed to maintain her Thad memorabilia? He was right here, holding his breath, hoping she’d move in!
Because she needed to be there in case Rune was looking for her?
Screw that. She would move out of her motel and find another one, refusing to look like she’d been waiting on him to show up.
“Being around MizB is weird,” she told him honestly. “Case you haven’t noticed, I don’t play well with others.”
