Through Glass(67)

I had to find one.

I had to defeat them, to defeat myself.

I just needed to find a weapon and fight my way out of here. I needed Travis.

I looked up to him, my eyes wide as I searched him for answers, for a way beyond him.

“Why?” I asked, my breath catching on the word and sending it away from me unwillingly.

“You see, little girl,” he began as he leaned toward me, his suit wrinkling perfectly as he bent himself, “you ate the food too long, walked in darkness so long that your blood is poisoned. You are poison. One slit to your skin, one spill of your blood and once you bleed out you will become one of the Tar. In fact, I am surprised it hasn’t happened already. Not that I am not happy for it. It is so much easier to see what makes your kind tick before the change has happened.”

I froze, the idea of finding Travis vanishing as fast as it had come. A new, much scarier reality taking its place. Bridget’s words traveled through me like lightning, the small piece of conversation coming right to mind.

Some cut themselves.

I had thought it then, but now the truth of what they had told me cemented itself into me. I would become one of them.

“I become…” I whispered, the words barely out of my mouth before Abran’s shouts filled the cold room.

“We can’t have your kind here,” he hissed passionately, some of his slicked backed hair shaking out of place as his head vibrated with anger. “Your kind is not welcome here.”

I watched the way he shook with his panic—his hatred—and something in me snapped. I jumped to my feet, my knees aching at the quick movement.

“I am not a monster!” I yelled, my own voice reverberated for a moment and Abran’s eyes went wide, fear replacing his hatred for the briefest of moments before his fist made contact with my cheek bone.

I felt the searing pain shoot through my jaw at the impact, my body falling to the ground from the added pressure. I clamped my mouth shut and kept the scream inside, the anger bubbling violently as I fought the need to rush him, to attack him. I wanted to, desperately, but I didn’t know where that would get me. Another cement box, a quicker death. It wasn’t worth it, not yet. My eyes opened just as Abran’s fancy dress shoes came to a stop right in front of my eyes, my jaw clenching as I fought the desire.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice loud from above me. “But you will be and when you are I can do whatever I need to get my answers. To destroy you. Not yet, but soon.” I curled into myself, almost expecting one of the tips of his leather shoes to ram into my face.

“It really is a pity for your poor brother,” he taunted, the volume of his voice increasing. I was sure he was right over me now. “The return of his family and now he has to be the one to kill you.”

“That hasn’t been decided yet, Abran.”

Everything tensed inside of me at the new voice, the deep masculine tones loud and threatening. Perhaps I should have fought him. If someone else was going to come and finish me off, there was no point to hold back my anger. I stiffened as I listened to Abran’s shoes tap against the concrete, the whispers as he hissed something in Spanish to the newcomer.

“Leave us, Abran,” the man hissed, his voice dark with malice. “Let me know when they are ready to read the verdict.”

“And what will you do if she changes while you are in here?” Abran countered, the hatred as thick with this man as it had been with me.

“Then I will do what you would do,” the new man countered, his powerful voice almost calming.

“Really? I don’t think you have the strength to kill your own sister.”

The anger that I had been feeling toward the two men vanished almost immediately and I sat up at Abran’s words, my body uncoiling itself as I turned toward them.

“Leave, Abran!” Travis yelled as Abran disappeared into the wall. Travis turned to me, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in years.

I felt light, and yet, I felt heavy. I felt like I would float to the ceiling and sink to the stone floor at the same time. My blood pulsed as I looked at him, as my fingers twitched, desperate to move toward him.

I stared at him, at his shaggy hair, his brown eyes and the muscles I would have never thought possible for my lanky teenage brother. He looked so much like dad it was crazy, but even beyond that I could tell it was him.

“Travis,” I whispered, my own words betraying the emotion that was threatening to bubble up out of me.

“Oh God, Alexis,” he sighed, his feet bringing him to me in two large strides, where he dropped to his knees in front of me.

He looked into me, his eyes wide in wonder. Everything in me caught fire at seeing him there so close to me. I froze in place, unsure how to react, what to do. I could feel my pulse as it quickened, but I stayed still. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me into his chest before I was ready for him, the thick muscles pressing my tiny frame into him.

I felt the pressure against me, his chest tightening as his breath moved over my skin and I was sure he was crying. I remember this from when he was younger, from years ago when everything had made sense. I remember hugs and comfort. I squeezed him until he squeezed me back; until the pain I am sure we both felt stopped throbbing a bit.

Still, I did not let go.

Slowly everything in me loosened, my body welcoming his contact. So warm and soft, I grasped at the connection.