Chapter 54
It's been another month, which means two left till Arsen is back.
We tried finding him when we had the chance, but Zero the Poet had lied. And the person he led us to ended up being a cosplayer of Arsen.
Noah beat him until he died. I guess the dude deserved it.
"Ameena!" I call, my toothbrush hanging from my mouth as I fumble with the tube of paste.
God, why do I always get the last bit of it? It's freaking hard trying to squeeze it out with my bare hands!
Rolling her eyes as if knowing what's to come, she peeps through the door, eyeing me with an annoyed expression.
"I didn't do it, Xanny," She replies.
"Whoever did, kill them," I answer her, taking out the toothbrush and pointing it at her accusingly. She just narrows her eyes.
"Get a life!" Jax calls as he passes the bathroom, smirking at Ameena who glares at him.
Once he's gone, I raise an eyebrow at her.
"What?" She asks innocently, which is hard since Ameena has a naturally scary tone of voice.
"Nothing..." I trail off, grinning as I get a pea-sized ball of paste onto my brush.
She's about to open her mouth and deny, when I hold up a finger, stuffing the brush into my mouth and starting to clean my teeth extra slowly. She glares and walks off.
Ameena totally knew what I was talking about.
I rinse out my mouth after finishing and dry myself off...until I get a waft of the smell I've been avoiding like the plague.
Honestly, the whole reason I've been using the shared bathroom in the hallway was so I wouldn't have to go into Arsen's since his smells of him completely, but do I ever get what I want? Nooo.
Sighing and blocking out my toxic thoughts, I walk out, bumping into Ace, who rolls his eyes and turns towards the stairs. I'm about to let him go but then I remember something.
"Ace!" I call, and he freezes, probably because it's the first time I've called him to start a conversation.
"What?" He growls, not turning around to look at me.
"I need to ask you something," I mumble sheepishly, and he finally turns to look at me.
"No, you know what? I'm going to ask you something first, and you're gonna give me an honest fucking answer, got it?" He growls, leaning down and glaring at me.
I bite my tongue from answering, and merely nod instead—I guess my question can wait.
"Did it hurt when he fucking did that?" He asks, pointing to my arm.
I look, realizing I'd forgotten to pull down my sleeve, and the scar swirls around my arm, the puffed-up area staring back at me like a dare, irking me on, waiting to see if I snap.
I just shrug. "Obviously it hurt. Getting a message written onto your arm with a blade isn't exactly comforting massage, is it?"
He narrows his eyes. "Do you know what it fucking means?"
I raise an eyebrow.
This is the most he's spoken to me, ever.
"No, I don't. That's what I wanted to ask you."
His head tilts as he reads it. "The roses have wilted, the violets are dead. The demons run circles, around in my head."
"Well?" I ask when he doesn't answer. The condescending look I get doesn't give me a great vibe.
"Your dad knew what he was writing when he wrote that." Ace starts. "You're going fucking dark, and sooner or later, you'll be just as worse as me and this gang. We're pretty messed up people if you hadn't noticed," He tells me.
I shake my head slowly. "That's it...?" But he doesn't answer. Just shrugs and walks away, not caring in the slightest.
I sigh frustratedly and turn back to my arm, knowing only Vicky would give me the right amount of info I need.
Take your nose back. I found it somewhere it doesn't belong.
Shut up. This is definitely my business.
Whatever you say, Pinocchio.
Whatever you say, Frankenstein.
*~*~*~*
I raise an eyebrow at the beat-up motel Vicky said she's staying at, and roll my eyes when I see the door number of her motel-room hanging off.
"This is nice," I mumble, hesitating before I lift a knuckle, and knock.
I hear muffles from inside, but no one comes to open the door, so assuming it's Vicky in there, I check the handle, and walk inside when I notice it's unlocked.
Why wouldn't she lock her door in a sketchy place like this? Does she want to die?
"Vick, you should really lock your--" I freeze.
The scene I'm met with is absolutely not PG-13.
I take a step back and rapidly bang the door shut, praying to God that I don't vomit right here, right now.
Now wouldn't that be polite?
So, you can watch an old woman die, but not this?
Exactly.
I hear a few squeals and shouts from inside before the door is yanked open and a calm and collected Emma greets me, her usual scowl covering her face.
I let out a sigh of relief, noticing she hasn't changed into some love-sick person.
"Can I help you?" She asks, raising an eyebrow. I clear my throat.
"No, you can't."
I can't look her in the eye anymore.
Why do I always end up arriving at the wrong time? Why can't I magically know the future without having to go through such vivid experiences?
"Em, let her in." Vicky's voice calls from inside. Emma scoffs and opens the door wider, giving me a false, two-second smile as I walk past.
I see Vicky sitting in an armchair, flickering through a magazine casually.
That's pretty stupid since I obviously saw what she was doing. But no way in hell am I going to mention it.
Clearing my throat, for the second time, I give her a nervous smile.
"I need something," I mumble sheepishly, and I notice Vicky's embarrassed blushed cheeks.
"What's up?" She asks, sitting straight. I also take a seat, and Emma's about to sit down as well when Vicky's glare stops her.
Instead, she stays standing.
Those two have a weird-ass relationship.
"Get us water," She mumbles, and their eyes meet for a second before Emma's off without a word.
That's unusual. She always has something to say.
"Okay, so..." I start, pulling up the sleeve of my arm and showing her what's on it. Her eyes widen.
She reads it. "Oh my God, Xanthe, what happened here?" She gasps, eyes wide.
"My dad did it," I shrug, and she looks up, raising her eyebrows.
"You found him?" She asks, and I nod.
"Yup, found him. And killed him."
Emma snorts as she comes back with two glasses of water.
"That must've felt nice. An omega killing its alpha and taking all the power," She smirks, and I roll my eyes.
"Why would I be an omega and not a beta?" I question, and her smirk widens.
"Because you weren't exactly his first choice. Duh," She answers, passing me my glass of water with an eye roll. I eye-roll her back.
"Shut up," I mumble.
The truth behind her words hit me hard, right where it hurts the most.
"Emma, keep your mouth shut. Xanthe, tell me, has anyone told you what that means yet?" Vicky speaks up, shoving Emma a step back, who hisses angrily. I shake my head.
"No. I asked Ace, but he just told me that I'm going dark like my, apparently messed up, gang," I tell her, and Vicky nods in understanding, getting up.
I watch as she walks to the side table by her bed, and picks up one of three books.
It has a dusty, mahogany colour, and the book's outlined with rusty gold. On the cover, are the two words, 'Dead Heart'.
Oh, please don't tell me I'm going to turn into some whimsical fantasy demon that threatens to ruin the world because they've lost all sense of humanity and can't be saved from anyone.
But when Vicky sits back down and shows me the author, my eyes widen.
Melissa P. Jacox.
My mother.
No freaking way. Did she write the damn book?
"Wha—how?!" I ask, shocked as I take the book from Vicky's outstretched hand. She merely shrugs.
"It's not exactly a fantasy, fairy tale if that's what you were thinking. It's about stuff you should generally know about. Go to page sixty-two," She commands, and I do as she says.
The first thing I see on the page is the quote written on my arm. My eyes widen.
This is where dad got it from. Mom's book.
He hadn't done it to leave a mark, he'd done it to tell me something. Because he knew. He knew I was going to kill him, and he knew I wouldn't have listened to his explanation when he'd try to explain.
I let out a short breath as I continue to read.
'Definition of quotation: Never trust the voice. You are your own person.
The voice gives the first command; that is a warning.
The voice gives the second command; that is a promise. The voice gives the third, and that is power.
Never trust the voice.'
As I read the passage, I don't know what to think. Or what to say.
What was mom trying to write here? What was this voice she was on about? And how did it even relate a little to the quote?
These questions swirled around in my head, and I looked up expectantly at Vicky, who watched with observant eyes.
"You have a voice in your head, don't you?" She asks simply. I raise an eyebrow.
"Doesn't everyone?" I ask shakily. Emma snorts.
"Normal humans, the type that doesn't think about killing on a daily basis, don't have a voice."
I take a deep breath. "Right."
Vicky nudges Emma quietly and shakes her head. Emma just rolls her eyes.
"This doesn't make any sense," I sigh, straightening the tangles in my hair.
"What doesn't?" Vicky asks calmly. I look at her.
"Vick, I just turned nineteen four and a half months ago. I'm a teenager, why is this supposed to be general knowledge for me?" I sigh, frustrated.
That's partly true. But I don't want to say out loud what everyone is thinking.
That I'm going batshit crazy.
"Xanthe, you're going to be twenty in half a year. You're already in love with a twenty-year-old, and--"
I look at her. "In love? With who?"
"Turner."
I scoff. "You and I both know it's not love, Vicky. And when did he turn twenty?!"
I swear, no one ever tells me anything. Especially him.
"Today." She answers. My eyes widen.
"Today--why don't I know that?!"
"You don't really need to know. He doesn't think much of birthdays. And Killahead usually just spends the day normally." Emma answers.
I look between the two girls.
"What?" Vicky asks, raising an eyebrow. I sigh in answer.
"Nothing. This all...it just seems weird, you know? I feel like as I'm getting the answers to all the questions I've been asking since day one, it's just making me more confused."
Emma lets out a low whistle, and Vicky smiles sympathetically. "You're fine, Xanthe. Well, I mean, you're not, but who is, anyway?"
She didn't make me feel better, but she tried, and that helped a little.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore," I mumble, and swallow as I get up off the bed I was sitting on.
Just as I do, my phone pings with a notification.
Ameena:
- Get home as quickly as you can. Dean needs something.
I look at Vicky and Emma. "Well, that's my cue to leave," I laugh, holding the book to my chest and waving. Emma nods and Vicky smiles.
"Call us if you find anything," She says and walks me to the door.
Just as I leave, I turn to her.
"You and your slave? What the hell?" I hiss quietly, and Vicky's eyes widen, shushing me loudly.
"I don't know. I'm just as confused. We're both into guys, and she makes sure she drools over a Men's Health magazine before she sleeps. It's just her that I've felt like this with, no one else, like, ever!" Vicky tells me worriedly.
I laugh. "Maybe you're taking gratitude for affection?" I suggest.
It's only to reassure me. I don't know why.
But she nods, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Thanks, Xanny. Drive safely," She says, and we say goodbye before I walk out.
Time to see what Dean has in store for us.
*~*~*~*
"What's up?" I ask as I walk in through the door.
I pause as I see Dean standing in the middle of the living room, with Noah at his side and everyone else perched on a seat somewhere.
I let out a deep sigh and put on a blank face.
When really, I'm internally screaming.
I thought he lived in the next town over! That's four hours away! What's so important that he's had to come here, exactly, to tell us about it?!
"Dean," I mumble, and he smiles, walking towards me.
I look down, and he puts a rough finger under my chin, yanking my face up violently so I'm looking at him eye-to-eye.
Dean could have been a handsome guy if he didn't have so much permanent anger showing on his face. And if he was a few decades younger.
He's tall, though, I'll give him that.
"Where have you been, Xanthe?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. I give him a weak smile.
"Adventuring into the great unknown, sir," I reply, my heart beating fast in fear of what he'll do.
Why the hell did I say that?!
He snarls. "We have a situation on our hands. I got a call from Arsen."
I freeze, and he notices, dropping his finger and turning to Noah, who was stood with his fists clenched. They loosen.
Arsen.
He got a call from Arsen.
From...
Arsen.
I cut him off as he says something to Noah. "What did Arsen want?" I ask rapidly, heart now beating for something else entirely.
Dean looks at me threateningly, probably hating that he got cut off, but I stand up to him, waiting for an answer to my question.
"He found something," Dean replies calmly.
Suddenly, Kade comes up to me and puts a gentle hand on my left shoulder. Ameena stands to my right, intertwining her hand with mine gently.
Okay...this is weird. Something's definitely up. And I have a feeling it's got to do with me.
"What did-what did he find?" I stutter, waiting in anticipation but also dreading his reply.
What he says next sends a shock through my body.
"Your sister, Xena, is alive."
And once I hear that, for the first time in a long time, I faint not because I was getting kidnapped.
_________________________________________________________
2489 words.
Whoo.
I kinda didn't wanna bring Xena back...but the ending - which is coming close - has to have her in it.
I've planned something, and hopefully, it'll be big.
Carry on reading, aMaZiNg readers. ALSO, I LOVE YOU!
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P.s...Sorry for not updating on Saturday, school started and blah, blah, blah. Again, luv ya!