Shadows of Ourselves (2016 Original Edition)

TWENTY: Beyond

We drove out of the city. Hunter wasn't talking, telling me he was too keyed up from the fight—he needed time to process and think. Only after he promised to explain everything once we reached our destination did I leave him be and flip on the radio instead. Dragonette crooned at us, soothing me a little. Sitting in the passenger seat, I stared at the scenery flying by and thought.

Not about the fight, or Jackson, or the very real possibility that Crayton was Hunter's father...but about myself. About the fact that I was—had been—lying to myself.

Penn, working for an Incubus right under my nose.

Powers, slumbering inside of me my entire life, waiting for the time to come alive.

The stark difference between me and everyone around me, a fat stroke of mortar, a brick wall between me and the people I surrounded myself with.

I had been lying to myself—and here I thought I had everybody's poker face called. All but my own, clearly. I was a naive little idiot if I really thought that running from this world was an option. I hadn't just become a part of this last Saturday: I'd been a part of it my entire life. It had been a piece of me, buried in my genetics and lying dormant in my blood. I simply hadn't realized it. I couldn't run from this any more than I could run from my gift, from the colour of my eyes in the mirror.

Some things can't be escaped. This world had been twisted around my ankles my entire life without me even realizing it, vines snaking around the roots of a tree, growing into it, leaving marks in the bark.

A magikal landscape full of danger and beauty, hidden beneath the vindictive mask of the city.

Bond or not, I was a Charmer. I had to accept it. I couldn't leave it behind—and I was realizing now that I might not want to.

It was ugly, this life. From what I'd seen at least, it was a world of brutality and backstabbing, kill or be killed, and it was lethal. It could be. I'd had more brushes with death in the past few days than I'd had in my entire existence prior. Danger simmering through every encounter, a world full of Vampires and Skinwalkers, mysteries piled on mysteries. But it was also this: ancient cathedrals buried beneath shopping malls, Empaths who poured tea, visions leading into the unknown...

And I could try to run from it, but this world would seek me out again and again until it finally managed to claim me. It was my birthright, it was a curse, and it was the one thing I couldn't run from.

And what was more...I did not want to.

I was so tired of turning tail and hiding from everything, every feeling, every emotion. Maybe I deserved some magik in my life, for once. Some strength.

I am the sky; watch me rage with storms.

I leaned my head against the cool window and stared at the passing scenery. We were out near the airport, and in the distance a helicopter sliced through the pale sky like a huge red chrome dragonfly.

Across the center console, Hunter still gripped the steering wheel too tightly, like he was ready to snap it. I wasn't ready to talk to him—or anyone—about this yet, wanting to keep it close to home for a while, but I needed to take my mind off of it all, at least for a few minutes. Just enough to make my head stop pounding under the weight of processing everything.

And we couldn't put off this conversation any longer. I'd tried.

"He let us go, you know."

"What?" His gaze was hot enough to burn. I was starting to realize that when he felt things, he felt them all the way.