The Siren's Soul

It's great to be back

"Where the hell where you?!", I shouted, when he came through the door.

The two inch glass door framed with oak wood shut heavily behind him. It was mid afternoon; the soft, pale light was streaming in thoroughly the wide windows covering most of the walls.

Coming in shirtless and hair

disheveled. A deep cut crossing his cheek, right below his eye, was already healing and sealing itself back together.

"Don't shit yourself scared, Drake", he jumped over the counter swiftly and straight to the fridge.

"You were gone this morning and wouldn't pick up your fucking phone! Dammit, I thought you got eaten by the swamp hag."

He took a deep swig out of the carton of orange juice.

"The dziwozona couldn't get me if she tried" he stated after a gulp of the last of the carton. I rolled my eyes and dropped into the deep leather chair beside the large, marble fire place. Pulling a large dagger off the mantle, I began to sharpen it.

The dziwozona was a womanly demon who lived in the swamp on the outskirts of town. She had these huge boobs that she literally meant to kill you with.

"I mean I love a good rack, but hers are. Well, an overkill."

An understatement.

I threw the dagger straight, while I absentmindedly stared at the bright light coming through. Dust particles were visible in the golden light through the air. The dagger landed right at the bullseye on the dartboard missing Jace's head by a hair.

I never miss my target.

Jace was my younger brother and we had been living together independently for quite sometime now. Our parents weren't around as much as they used to.

"Nice shot", he remarked while pulling the dagger from the dartboard and tossing it to me. I lazing caught it at the hilt and rose from the chair. I walked to the large granite island spaced in the center of the kitchen; resting the the polished, celestial bronze dagger in the center. The light illuminated the brilliant engraving on it. "Ignotis".

Jace was sixteen when he had gotten his GED. Since then we had been traveling around the world constantly. Now that he was eighteen, I thought it would have been best if we settled home for a while.

In this case, home was in a town called Clearwater, down south. An old house was left for us by some family that didn't live in the same regions anymore.

He had sat on the counter, backed onto the wooden cabinets that lined the walls above the counter.

The cuts strewn across his face and chest visible twenty minutes before had faded and gone. The look on his face was too amused. Something must have happened.

"What did you do?"

I dropped my hands, solidly on the island. Leaning in, I bore my eyes in to his. He easily slipped off the counter and perfectly mirrored my actions. We were head to head and eye to eye. The contact was unbreakable. All seriousness was set.

With one brow raised and a glint of mischief in stainless steel grey eyes; the look as if to say damn-straight-I-got-this. I resisted the urge to grin. He broke into a smile and I lost it.

We had been playing this game since he was three and I was six. It was generally to see who could keep their hold until they told the truth.

"I got in a bar fight."

He voiced it casually and I groaned.

"You were drinking?"

I cocked a brow at him.