Greys III - Revelations

Chapter 7 - Calling

I thought there was nothing that could make me accept James, accept Jordan as the Halflings they were back into my life, into my family. But at some point between the time my feet left the roof of our hotel and landed on the adjacent building's, I realized that I didn't have to accept them as Halflings, I didn't have to understand or allow that at all. I didn't have to make excuses for them or their damned blood, only they had to do that. All I had to do was remember who they had been before that night in the cemetery.

As much as I hated my weightless realization, it made more sense than I cared to ever say out loud, and I knew I never would. But just like so many times, I didn't need to say it out loud, as Kael came to the same conclusion during our short flight.

We landed and he pulled his arm out of my vice grip to kneel down, plucking a call from the side of his boot. His eyes rose to mine, almost in question, but he was the leader, and I looked away, turning to survey the new roof we were occupying. I heard his instructions, heard who he left it for, telling the little orb to be silent, to sleep, until the one it was left for found it, if she ever did. He left an unnecessarily cryptic message. He had become more and more paranoid during his time as leader and I never objected. His overt caution was surely the only reason we had survived for as long as we had. If we were lucky enough for Jordan to ever find the call, then certainly the Heavens meant her to be able to figure out his simple, little riddle.

He dropped the call to rest among the rocks that had been our cushion when we landed and sent a silent prayer up, his eyes closed as he tilted his head toward the sky, his lips moving ever so slightly. I did the same, not believing it mattered, not really, but having nothing to lose either, nothing left to barter. So, I just asked, pleaded, that this wouldn't be how we went, how we died, hunted and cornered by Humans with gifts stolen from Hell, gifted to them by the very man that had been pulling the strings of our Clan, of our entire lives for far longer than we had even been aware of his existence. I felt my knuckles burn against how tightly my fists were balled and quickly relaxed my hands and turned from Kael before he finished his prayer.

I scanned the rooftop we were on, looking for what our next move would be, as we were currently sitting ducks. I didn't know how long until the Skia's search would extend outside of our building, but I wanted to err on the side of caution and be far away when it inevitably did. Apparently, Kael felt the same, once again, and was at my side a moment later.

"Stairs, then hole up somewhere? Maybe less conspicuous this time? You can choose."

He nodded, his eyes wet, his breaths still labored from his wounds and the exertion of our escape. His voice came softly as he looked at the marks of our landing, to where the call rested, all our hope resting with it.

"Somewhere close, please, I don't want to miss it."

I felt something in me crack a little, my walls bowing under the pressure of seeing my leader as he really was, my partner. I had to swallow the words back that wanted to climb my throat, this wasn't the time for words, this wasn't the time for anything but action. I marched across the roof to the door that led to our escape, our retreat.

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It took me two days before I felt myself again, before my Shift, my powers, came back fully. The panic of feeling less than myself, less than what I had always been, faded with my power's gradual return, my control's return. But with it came a hatred for the demihuman trash that had tried to destroy me, to kill my pair, to hunt something so much stronger, so much greater than them. We weren't fucking big game for them to show off like a trophy.

Besides my new found fire to live, my drive to pull apart the army the Collector was trying to create, to burn away the powers they had no right to wield and he no right to give, our narrow escape seemed to have changed something in Nevaeh as well. She stopped drinking, that very day, and began training again, she even kept her weapons easily accessible, right next to mine. She hadn't objected when I left a call for Jordan on the roof we'd landed on, she hadn't even looked upset.

At the time, it had been the only thing I could think of. Funny, what comes to mind when you think you're about to die. I had always thought my victims would fill my last seconds, would flash before me like the cliché says, all my regrets, maybe Ambriel. But instead I only thought of James, of Nevaeh and Jordan, of my family. I only saw their faces, our past, and I knew I had been wrong to leave them. So wrong.

If anyone was good, it was them. If anyone could fight what they were, it was them. They had already been doing it for years. Jordan had been good even without the support of her own people. I left the call because it seemed the only option to protect Nevaeh and myself, but also, because I knew in that moment that I didn't just need them back, I wanted them back.

I wanted Jordan to be searching for us, I wanted her to find us, and James with her, though I was less sure that he would be tracking us than that she would. It just seemed like her way, like how she had gone out to find James in the city the night he almost died, the night she almost died. She just seemed like the type to go searching for lost sheep, whereas James had always been more the type to hunt prey.

The next morning, once the adrenaline had worn off, once my mind was less clouded with immediate survival, I began to question if it had been smart to leave the call, to throw away a piece of magic that might actually be able to help Nev and I in the future. I realized how unlikely it was that Jordan would ever even find it. Even if she was searching for us, which I had no evidence of, the exact opposite actually, why would she possibly be on that particular roof, looking in that particular spot, for a call she didn't know would be there?

It was stupid, but for some reason when I did it, I felt like I had to, like it made all the sense in the world, like some part of me knew more than my mind. And if I had learned anything about myself, my Sign and Gifts, it was to listen to my gut anytime it stirred. I wished more now than ever before that my instincts were right, that somehow, beyond all the practical reasons why she shouldn't, that Jordan would find my message, that she was searching for us, that she would find us, figure it out. I needed her to figure it out.

And there you have it - the other side of the coin. Aren't you just itching for the reunion? I know I am.

Keep up, dear readers

T