Page 173 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Rafe, you should always call. I’ve missed you so deeply,” she whispers, her voice clogged with emotion.

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence.

“We got invited to All Souls,” I blurt out, hoping to fill the space. “It’s an annual party⁠—”

She laughs through her tears, the sound filling me. It reminds me of her scent and warmth, of a home I no longer belong to. “All Souls, huh? That’s a big deal, Rafe. It’s always been the party, even when I was at school.”

“Right.” I clear my throat.

“How are you?” she asks softly. “Are you adjusting?” She whimpers. “Please, just tell me you’re okay. I need to know you’re okay. Really okay.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. The pain and worry in her voice is proof that I’m a shit son. “I’ve been going to the gym,” I offer lamely.

The gym is still the only time I’ll leave the house. It still feels risky to cross campus, even early in the morning. There is always the chance I will lunge at someone and take them down. I can feel every being who gets too close to the house. Yesterday, some freshmen dared to knock on the door and run away. It could have been just an innocent game, trying to rile up the Disaster Duo, or it could be the more insidious assumption that someone knows a demon lives in this house. I really hope it isn’t the latter.

All Souls is a bad fucking idea. I was invited, but I don’t have to go. Summer and Alice will have more fun without me. It will be easier to embrace the hedonist paradise if they don’t have to worry about me mauling everyone who comes close. I know they will try to convince me to go, but it won’t work.

“Summer mentioned you have been seeing her trainer. It’s going well?” More of that hope in her tone leads to more of that twist in my stomach. She deserves a better son, someone who doesn’t feel so different from everyone around them.

“I guess. I’m sorry, Mom, I have to—” I choke on the words, but not because they’re a lie, my truth taste died when I fell. It’s because I simply can’t bear to even say the words.

“Of course, Rafey,” she says, but her voice trembles. “I’m just happy to hear your voice.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Bye.”

“I love—” she begins, but I’ve already ended the call, unable to hear those words from her, unable to say them back, unable to break her heart any more than I already have.

Alice gets home before Summer does, right as I’m grinding brimstone in the food processor. She nods at me, and then her maniacal smile is the only warning I get before she’s using a runed measuring tape to measure my torso. I frown as the enchanted tool wraps around my shoulders.

“Alice, what are you doing?” I ask, my annoyance clear in my tone.

She hums, writing down the numbers that illuminate on the tape as it wraps around me. “Nothing, just research.”

I bat at the tape, and it scrunches up, looking at me. I stare at it, a little impressed that a normally inanimate object is able to project such offense at my interference. “Whatever this is, I don’t want a part of it,” I say, waving my hand between Alice and the measuring tape.

She rolls her eyes. “Listen, I get that you’ve got this angry, broody male look into the darkness, no one can understand my tortured soul thing going on.” I blink at the description. Broody? “But you’re going to All Souls.”

“Alice—” I start, mentally ready to list all the reasons it is a terrible idea for me, a demon, to be surrounded by people, food. But Alice jumps off the stool she’s perched on and opens a cupboard, slapping a bottle of clear liquid against my chest.

I catch it and look down at the label, the word lifegiver written across it in big black letters.

“What is⁠—”

“I fed Summer that every day for five months. All the nutrients a body needs to survive in harsh conditions.” Alice’s dark eyes slash at me, carving any pretenses away with their unusual intensity. Usually everything is a game to Alice, and it always ends in murder. Except Summer. Summer matters to Alice. Even more than I do. Alice will always choose Summer, and Summer will always choose Alice. “It kept her alive when all she wanted was to die.”

“Why are you showing me this?” I ask, rolling the glass jar in my hand.

“To guilt-trip you.” Alice smirks, taking the jar back and putting it away. “If Summer can survive those months, you can suck it up for a few days for her sake.”

I wince. “All right, I get the message.”

She smiles, flashing her fangs. “Plus, if you attack anyone, I’ll just kill everyone present. No witnesses.”

“Thanks? I think.”

“You’re welcome, demon baby. Thank you for your consent to order costumes for you,” she says, swanning up the stairs.

“I didn’t!” I shout after her, but she’s already gone.