Cian
It wasn't supposed to feel like this.
It wasn't. The second the spires of San Francisco's skyscrapers appeared on the horizon, I knew something was wrong. While it wasn't unusual for the city to be steeped in fog, especially now, in the early morning, it was still unusually gray. The sun was a pale blot against dim sky, the bay black-blue and lazy.
I could tell I wasn't the only one who noticed. Caprice's eyes were wary, narrow, and when I glanced back through the rearview mirror, Nura was gritting her teeth. Even Vinny seemed paler than normal.
With a heavy exhale, I turned back towards the window. I had wanted to come home. Ever since I'd woken up with this...this vacancy inside of me, a vacancy I now knew was only human—I had wanted to come home. But not to this.
It only got worse the closer we came to my house. Everything seemed faded, the bright architecture bleak and cold, the sidewalks sticky and the alleyways dark as pitch. An unease began to climb within me; I squeezed my eyes shut, pinched myself, opened them again. Still, nothing had changed.
My hands scraping the dash, I turned. "Caprice—"
"No," she said, and I could hear it, how disconcerted she was. "Don't say anything. Not yet."
"But you see it."
"Well, hell, Cian—" She paused, biting her tongue. "Of course I see it."
From the back seat, Nura squeaked, "I feel it. Something's wrong. It must be the balance...I don't know how..."
"Everyone shut up," snapped Caprice. "I need to figure this out."
The Camaro fell into silence again, save for the whir of the tires against the asphalt, the drone of monotonous voices out on the sidewalks. The people were drearier, the frowns deeper. I didn't know if I wanted to burst out, search for way to fix this, or just sink within myself.
We were at my house then, and my heart jumped a bit within my chest. The rose bushes and the violets and all the plants, previously flourishing and bright underneath the hands of our gardener, were dead and crinkled. The clean white paint was as gray as everything else.
Nura moaned. "It is," she said. "The balance..."
"Nura, please," someone said, and this time it was Lucie, shoving the car door open and stepping out, raking her hands through her hair. "We know. We know already! What we don't know is how to fix any of this—"
"The balance?" I repeated, climbing out of the car after Lucie. Caprice, Nura, and Vinny followed, stepping around the car to face the house's front. "Why does that sound vaguely familiar?"
"The girl in Chinatown," Caprice told me, lending me a worried glance. "She said something about it."
"So did Eden," croaked Vinny, his eyes trained on the home that was ours but at once was not.
I turned toward him sharply. "How did Eden—"
"We can explain that later," Lucie told me. "Your mom. We should check on her. Who knows how long the city's been...decaying like this."
All of us nodded in agreement, starting to climb the steep driveway. My brain was swimming with about a million questions at once, but with no avenues for answers. I wanted to know how long I'd been a demon, how they'd found me, what the heck the balance was and why it was ruining San Francisco. My eyes searched the ground. I missed how it had been, before Lucie had been shot, before I'd gotten sick.
There was suddenly a hacking cough from behind me. I whirled to see Vinny there, a hand pressed to his chest, his face twisted in pain. He coughed again, his whole chest spasming.
"Vinny!" I yelped, running for him.
His eyes lifted towards me, wide, terrified, as a trickle of blood dripped from his lips, splashing crimson against his shirt. He said my name, once, dazedly. I yelled before I could stop myself, everything inside of me stopping. No. No, no, I couldn't—
Lucie was screaming behind me; it all drowned out when Vinny's eyes fluttered closed and he collapsed against the concrete.
I was there in a second, holding him, lifting him up in my arms. "God," I exhaled, shaking my head, clearing the hair from his forehead, willing myself not to cry. He was okay. He had to be okay. "He's so light—he's too light. When's the last time he ate anything?"
Lucie stood there, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "We need to figure out how to fix this—this damn balance right now," she hissed, her teeth gritted, hands fists at her sides.
"It looks like we've run out of time."