Chapter 14: Damen - Fear - Change

Damen
Fear

“Motherfucker!” Titus snarled as he punched the wall where, only seconds before, Bianca had been cowering.

The room faintly smelled of her sickness, and guilt—an unfamiliar emotion—twisted at my guts.

I knew that bringing her here might trigger something, but I went against my better judgement because it was something that she wanted to do. How could I have denied her?

“Where did she go?” I asked, glancing up at the ceiling.

“It’s hard to say.” Gregory’s eyes were closed, and—from outwards appearances—he appeared relaxed.

However, I knew him well enough to see that he was anything but. The sharp tone of his voice, and the way his hand jerked as he removed his glasses and wiped at his forehead. For the first time since I’d known him, the man was beginning to show his age—and his rage.

He ran his fingers through his thick gray hair once before he finally spoke again. “She’s going to be stronger than we are.” He opened his eyes, gesturing at Bryce. The other fae was strangely hard to read as he focused on the kneeling dragon and not this conversation. “We can blink several hundred feet in distress. Besides, there’s always the possibility of certain traits—ones that had been locked away for many lives—resurfacing. She’s… different.”

“Than Mu?” I waved my hand in the air dismissively. “I know. We’re not exactly the same, after all. We—”

“No, her power is different than Osian’s,” Gregory replied. A pang shot through me at the name. While we might not ever fully remember every aspect of all our past lives—the first was the most memorable—there was a part of me that did remember him.

Osian. The Wood Xing previous to Bianca. Gregory had known him personally. “And it’s not her personality, I am aware that you have variances in every life. I’m talking about her energy. Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel… what?” I drew my brows together in concentration, trying to root through everything I felt—and knew—about Bianca.

She was soft and warm, something about her inspired me to want to be a better person. And she was frustrating, because she rejected my attempts to protect her.

“There’s something off about it,” Gregory was saying. “She doesn’t only feel like fae. She feels a bit like the rest of you as well.”

Titus had shifted slightly, right hand bracing himself in his still-crouched position as he watched Gregory with a cloaked expression. Even Bryce’s stupor had vanished.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, for starters, she’s an onmyoji,” Gregory said, crossing his arms. As if he was daring me to argue.

I couldn’t hold my laugh. “No, she’s not.” I definitely would have noticed. “The only reason you think that is because of her bond with Kiania.”

The shikigami’s impertinence still irked me.

It was really annoying to have to—in the most inopportune moments—listen to Kiania’s taunts ringing in my ears.

Gregory was stroking his chin. “That’s not it.”

“Besides that,” I interrupted. I refused to continue with this asinine conversation. “How do we find out where she is now?”

“We can’t.” Gregory shrugged. “That was my point. I don’t feel her at all, and who knows where she’s gone while in that state. Considering the unpredictable nature of her abilities, we might not be able to track—”

“She’s upstairs.” Titus stood, brushing off his jeans at the thigh. “I’ll get her.”

Bryce stepped toward Titus the same second the dragon moved toward the stairway. “Do you really think—” he began, but froze when Titus scowled at him, his eyes bright.

Titus was even angrier than I’d expected. Understandable, considering the raging torrents of my own fury currently churning in my stomach.

But this time, I couldn’t give in. With Titus being so close to the edge, I had no choice but to maintain my composure. He might have been weaker than he should but suppressing him would take every ounce of my concentration.

“You were saying?” His voice was a snarl, and Bryce flinched.

Even in our childhood, the two of them had never been close. Bryce always had an irrational fear of reptiles and avoided Titus as much as possible.

It was the one secret that—even though we were no longer friends—I still carried for him. Not even Brayden knew Bryce’s weakness.

I once toyed with the idea of telling Bianca—just to get on her good side. She’d been so moody toward me lately, and I needed leverage. But then she’d get a certain gleam in her eyes, and I wasn’t sure I entirely trusted her with this information.

Besides, Bryce and I had pinky sworn. Keeping his secret was a matter of honor.

Low-key taunting him? That was something different.

But Bryce was something else entirely—right now, Bianca.

I stepped between the two of them, placing my hand on Bryce’s arm. “It’s fine.” His muscles were taunted with strain, and it was only through our years of knowing each other—of sharing our secrets—that I could tell just how affected he was by Bianca’s outburst.

How was I supposed to know that he hadn’t just been wishing for a sister, but that he was grieving the one he already had.

I’d moved past blaming him already, but he still blamed himself—he probably had all this time.

Goddamn it. It was easier to just hate him. But no matter what had happened between us, I couldn’t stay angry.

“She’s afraid of you,” Bryce finally told Titus.

Internally, I groaned. Why couldn’t he have phrased it differently?

In response, Titus’s eyebrow lifted, but he didn’t speak.

My fingers tightened, digging into his arm—a silent waning. Bryce was lashing out to cover for his own frustration. But he ignored my plea, continuing, “Do you really think you should be going after her?”

“It’s certainly not going to be you.” Titus’s response was cold, the hum of his anger quietly vibrated through the air. “I only brought her here because I’m on my last resort in trying to fix the mistakes that you and your family”—he lifted his chin at Gregory, who was watching the scene in caution—“have made. Rest assured, I’ll track down every piece of shit who has ever touched her, and what will happen when I do find them is nothing that your dark little Unseelie heart can conjure.”

Gregory’s eyes narrowed. “You’re angry at us?”

It was obvious, but I could understand his confusion. Titus normally had the patience of a saint. Yet he could also be cold outside of his outwardly naïve persona.

“Angry? I’m not angry.” He pulled at the bottom of his jacket—clearly itching to shift. His glare landed on the stairway. “This goes far beyond that. I’m going through the files now, piecing together Bianca’s history before us. If I find anything that makes me believe that you’ve had anything directly to do with her situation, I will kill you.”

I dropped my hand back to my side. Bryce had paled considerably, and even Gregory seemed mildly ill—but not with guilt.

Titus had never threatened someone this close to our circle before.

“Titus…”

But he was already lumbering up the stairs. I only paused a second—shooting the two fae one quick glance—before following the dragon.

I still didn’t know where she was, and neither Kasai nor Kiana offered insight to her location. But Titus said he knew. So it either had something to do with their pending mate bond, or she’d simply reappeared.

Titus moved quickly, passing through a wide alcove and storming his way through one of the second floor doors. He’d been here before and had mentioned in passing that he’d discovered the location of Bianca’s childhood bedroom. However, he never could bring himself to tell me the details.

It was impossible to ignore this growing sense of foreboding.

Bianca had been in distress—caught in the throes of an anxiety attack—while clearly suffering from some sort of flashback.

She had no control of her abilities yet, but she’d run to the closest place where she felt safest.

There was no time to take in the surroundings except in passing. It was difficult to miss the charred ruins littering the long, thin hallway lined with broken doors.

Titus turned left, purposefully stepping into one of the rooms at the very end of the hallway, and my heart pounded. I followed him, expecting this to be the end. That, once we crossed into the room, Bianca would be there.

I hadn’t wanted to think about what condition she’d be in, and my stomach twisted in preparation for the very worst.

But she wasn’t there.

The almost-empty room was darker than the rest of the house, as the only window was half-covered by a piece of plywood. A faint line of light trickled through the finger-width gaps above and below the frame, barely illuminating the dusty space. No carpets or rugs covered the pock-marked wood floors, and the blue and once-white wallpaper had been long neglected to a state where it barely even covered the walls anymore.

The smoke and fire damage that had spread through the rest of the house hadn’t really touched this area.

Centered on the floor under the window was a small, thin mattress. There were no sheets or blankets—not even a pillow. And on the other side of the space, a chair lay broken.

“She’s not here.”

She’d told me about this room. Her tearful words rang through my memories. Was it in this room where she’d gotten that scar?

“She is,” Titus replied, spine straightening as he shut his eyes and raised his face to the ceiling. The corner of his jaw twitched as his nostrils flared. “She’s…” he began, but his statement came to an abrupt end as he jerked his head to the right, crimson eyes cutting through the shadows as he focused on the opposite end of the room.

“There?” But there was clearly nothing. “Where—”

Titus pushed past me, crossing the space within four long-strides and kneeling on the floor as he faced the corner.

Before I could question him, his arm shot out, hand grasping at the air.

“It’s over,” he said.

I stared at him, growing increasingly concerned that I might need to intervene. Had the unfilled mate-bond damaged his mind?

But then his fingers wrapped around something solid, and the dusty light shimmered. I held my breath as the air seemed to move outwards, and then, where a second before had been nothing, was Bianca.

She was curled into a ball, knees drawn to her chest, and hands folded in between her legs and her stomach. She didn’t move, and she might as well have been carved out of stone, except for the fact that her large eyes shimmered with confused wariness.

Her makeup had smudged, accentuating the dampness of lingering tears.

But, still, that look was not one of recognition.

I peered at Titus. The dragon’s face was an unmovable picture of grim determination. However, I had no idea what he was thinking, or why he was pressing forward.

And, despite the situation, a sense of jealousy stirred in my chest. I should be the one in his position. I should be the one bringing her back.

I didn’t understand it; something existed now that had never happened before: an all-consuming need to take care of her. This feeling wasn’t something that I could easily shake—and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to.

She seemed so small—fragile—as she remained tense, terror radiating from her every pore. The russet-colored floppy hat she’d picked out today was lopsided on her head, hanging over one ear, as strands of flyaway hair framed her red-streaked face. When we’d arrived, she’d been well-put together and poised, and I thought, perhaps, that I’d underestimated her.

But now she looked lost.

That’s what always threw me off.

“No more running.” Titus didn’t even allow her to cower; and she would have, too, for there was still no recognition in her otherwise alert gaze. “I’ve got you.”

Titus moved back, and her hat fell to the floor as he pulled her to him. She made a low sound—almost a whimper—as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and her final method of escape was closed off.

The floor hummed in a low vibration that only those who were familiar would be able to place—Titus was now actively using his abilities to block hers.

My breathing began to pick up as uncertainty caused my skin to grow clammy, and I watched the two of them with a growing sense of apprehension.

I’d had no idea before now how Titus had planned on handling this situation, but I was a bit surprised, and proud, that he wasn’t fucking around with this confrontation either.

Julian was wrong; Bianca needed a more direct approach in regard to certain things. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be aiding in her recovery at all.

And it looked like Titus was on the same page.

She buried her forehead against his chest and tried to push her fists against him, but the dragon didn’t let up.

“I’m here,” he said, tucking her into his lap despite her protests. “Nothing can get to you now.”

Bianca’s frame suddenly relaxed, and her shoulders rounded as her head fell forward slightly. Yet, despite the fact that she’d seemed to have surrendered, there was an underlying tension in the room that caused my stomach to tighten and my fingers to dig into my palms.

It was quiet—and right now, Bianca needed that. But, still, all I wanted was to kick something.

Especially when the evidence of abuse still hung heavy in the air all around us. It was obvious—but I still needed to be sure.

“Is this—” I’d waited until Bianca’s chest began to rise and fall in sleep before asking.

“Yes.” Titus cut me off before I could even finish my question. “It’s where she… stayed.”

At his confirmation, every item began to take on a new meaning. My attention wandered to the thin mattress, the broken window.

Her shaky recollections echoed through my thoughts. This was definitely the room where she’d been brutalized; yet—in distress—she’d come here to hide.

There was a part of her that still considered this to be the safest place she could be.

My hands shook and I reached for my necklace, squeezing the charm. A rising heat was burning under my skin as every stark detail branded itself into my memories. If the charm were just any gold, it would have melted and warped.

But it wasn’t just another gold piece. It’d been designed by Mu and charmed by Shui and Tu—passed on to me and cherished through every lifetime. The fae, necromancer, and witch had combined their abilities in order to minimize the deadliest, most direct, portal to the underworld into one small object that’d then been trusted into my keeping.

But I didn’t even wear it for power. After all, any semi-decent onmyoji could open a portal to hell if they tried hard enough.

No, it was precious because it was a piece of someplace far away, and not something I could remember clearly, but still called to me.

After all, no longer residing in the underworld was just one of the sacrifices required to maintain my position as Xing.

“Damen.” Titus’s low growl cut through my thoughts, and he moved to his feet, still cradling Bianca. He’d wrapped his arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, as she remained passed-out against him. “You can’t,” he warned, even though we both knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop me.

But—

“I’m not.” My hand fell back to my side as my attention drifted across the broken chair.

Humans were vile.

I’d spent my whole life trying to understand—to see why both Mu and Tu felt sympathy for them. And I’d thought I’d gotten a pretty good grasp on human nature—I did have a Doctorate in Psychology, after all. I was beginning to believe.

But the studies were flawed, based on theories from biased teachers who wanted to create order out of chaos. Maybe most people were inherently evil. How could I have ever thought they’d be worth saving?

Despite that, nothing good would come from crossing that final line. Bianca would, at least, be very sad.

And for some reason, the thought of Bianca being upset bothered me more than anything else in the world.

I glared at the chair. “Not yet.”

I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of it in the future though.