Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXVIII - Draught

Vladimir and the rest of the cabal draughted back to the Sinclair Manor, leaving me and Vincent behind. It was nearly dusk and the skies were about to take up an orange-indigo hue. There was no wind but the chill in the air was foreboding. Centralia was again a dead land with its smoldering sinkholes, rundown neighborhoods and deserted streets.

I stepped ahead of Vincent, taking a deep breath of the cold air with the tiniest hint of smoke when he snatched my hand forcefully. As I turned around to face him, there was a harsh look on his eyes as they bored into mine. They were so intense against the darkness it felt like they were sucking out my soul.

"Why the hell did you not answer me when I called you?" he growled, fingers tightening around my wrist.

Answer me. Aramis... Please say something... His quiet voice still lingered and reverberated inside my head like a broken record but I wouldn't mind listening to it over and over again.

Firmly, I met his eyes, trying not to blink so as not to appear intimidated. "Well, I was in a pretty tight situation and there's this horde of wraiths surrounding me. I didn't really think it was a priority."

"Not a priority," he echoed with a humorless chuckle. "What did you think I had these stupid earrings made for? Was it that hard to let me know you're still alive? Or were you just having a blast torturing me?" he yelled furiously, his voice almost shaking through clenched teeth.

"Torturing you?" I snapped, breathing out angrily.

Of course I couldn't complain that he left me in the midst of a legion of enemies without proper training or at the least, the ability to draught to safety. But I knew from the start that this was coming. Being a familiar came with its perks and drawbacks-one of which would be finding myself in near-death situations regularly. If something went wrong, I had no one else to blame but me and I understood that now fully. I should be protecting Vincent and not the other way around.

But how could I possibly do that when I could barely even stay alive? And what I could not understand was why he was acting this way. It confused me more than ever. Just the thought of it made my heart sink but I just swallowed the swelling in my throat and looked away.

"I'm s-sorry," I began, managing a steady business-like tone. "It will never happen again-"

"You scared the hell out of me," he said in a weak voice. "I thought..." He swallowed hard. "I thought something bad happened... to you. Please... Don't do that ever again."

Vincent's grip loosened and I felt his life-force slowly seeping into mine-warm and inviting like the feeling of home. My injuries were slowly healing but I was still dog-tired and ready to drop any minute. I found myself smiling at him for some unknown reason. Reluctantly, he disheveled his dark wavy hair and averted his gaze from me.

"Is that an order? Master?"

I laughed silently to myself, thinking that it was the first time I called him that. It felt like the right thing to do. Perhaps, it was the familiar instinct having its way with me yet again. Hopefully, he had already forgotten my vow that I would never accept him as my master ever. And yes, I would gladly eat my own words now. As unpredictable as Vincent was, maybe I did consider him as my master.

"What? Yeah... well, sure," he mumbled frantically which was weird, considering that he was the most arrogant, self-assured person I had ever met.

Just then, as the yellow-orange streaks of light took over the horizon, I saw a little white thing flit down slowly from the sky. I caught it in my hand, feeling its pleasant coldness as it melted on the palm of my hand. Snow fell in slow motion like a drizzle of tiny dandelions. It reminded me of my late mother and those innumerable happy moments we spent playing outdoors during the winter.