Shadows of Ourselves (2016 Original Edition)

NINE: Dice & Dreams

Stuck in the hotel room, I considered my list of possible actions. They were pretty much: do what Hunter tells you to.

Also, get drunk on his whiskey, but the sting of alcohol and the fuzz of drunkenness wasn't what I wanted or needed at the moment. Plus, I was a vodka kind of guy. Not right now. Clarity and a goal, that was what I needed.

But I couldn't get out of this damn room.

And while I wasn't good at doing nothing, I couldn't deny that Hunter was right. I'm stubborn, not fucking delusional. He was stronger than me, knew more about our situation than I did, and, oh yeah—he was an actual Charmer. He'd said my power was a coveted gift, but it didn't seem as useful as being able to toss a grown person through the air or go off killing monsters.

I knew that my ability would still bring me some trouble: I had Jackson to deal with when this was all over. I had to find a way to tell him off without getting my head ripped off. And I had to figure out how Penn fit into it all. But right now all I wanted to was trade in my powers for something that would actually get me out of this trouble.

I was a walking, talking, human lie detector. Useless—in this situation, at least.

And sometimes I got tired of that. Tired of knowing people were lying when they said that I looked nice today, or told me they would keep my secrets to my face even when they intended on sharing behind my back...

That was why I'd left school. That had been my everyday existence.

I was sick of knowing how few people I could truly count on. I was sick of not being able to count on myself.

But for now, locked away up here, there was nothing I could do about it. Instead, I would try to sleep it out and hope the guy responsible for fixing all of this was more reliable than he seemed at the moment.

I sat around for a while reading random books and puttering around the room. I tried to make myself eat something, but I couldn't force the food down. I kept thinking of Mom, wondering if she was worried, if she had even an inkling of what was happening to me. She'd always been a bit oblivious, and she definitely wasn't about to win mother of the year any time soon—but we looked out for each other. No matter how mad we were, how drunk she was, how often we fought, we made sure we were okay from outside forces. Mostly. I couldn't decide half of the time if she was my worst enemy, or the only person I truly cared about. We'd latched onto each other, for better or for worse.

I wanted to call her, to tell her I was fine. Except I couldn't, because of Hunter's stupid wards. Thinking of her made me think of alcohol; the burn of a drink going down, the dizzy haze. I considered pouring myself a drink. It was impossible not to think of drinking when she came into my mind, or not to think of her while I was drinking.

It was part of her identity, alcohol, in a way that scared me; the way the smell of it clung to her sour breath and her hair reeked of vomit. How I so often only saw her with a bottle or a glass in hand, eyes bleary, wearing the same sweatpants for weeks and sleeping among empty bottles and cans.

Every time I drank I was afraid I might go too far, get hooked on the same edge she had, and become her. Like I was on the tip of a dagger, playing with death.

Always pushing limits—like it was the only thing I knew how to do.

Well, that and fixate on things I shouldn't.

Instead of drinking, I stripped down to my underwear and T-shirt and crawled into the bed, resigned to lie there sleepless for the next few hours.

It was comfier than I remembered, and the sheets smelled like Hunter, like his sharp cologne, musk, and plain soap. My own bed was an old futon we'd gotten from one of Mom's exes, and it smelled like smoke and was lumpy as hell. This cheap hotel bed felt like something from the palace of a king. I burrowed down into the thick, warm sheets and closed my eyes, feeling drowsier than I'd expected. In the next room, I could hear a group of men playing dice or something—their booming laughter, the clink of ice. It comforted me to know that there were other people around, even if I couldn't see them.