Page 67 of Hell’s Weapon

Wyatt and Rio have been loud all night, driving the conversation as they argue over theories. No one seems to notice Tacita’s lack of engagement, but I do. I want to go back to our room so I can ask if she’s okay.

“I bet my brother loses it whenever they tell him I’m gone. There’s no way he’ll believe I’m dead or whatever bullshit they feed him,” Wyatt says, and the detail snags my attention, the conversation clearly derailed from our task.

He has a brother?

“How old is he?” Seffy asks.

“Younger than me, he’s only twenty-six. But he took the whole wild second child thing to a whole new level. He left for the US when he was twelve, forging all sorts of signatures so he could go to school there as they allow smart kids to graduate early. He got a degree from MIT by the time he was seventeen.”

“Your parents allowed that?” Rio asks.

“They never really took interest. He broke contact with them as soon as he left. I kept trying for a while but haven’t spoken to them in years. They were wasters, the pair of them.”

“You and your brother must be close if you think he’ll be looking for you,” Seffy deduces.

“Yeah, even on different continents we called everyday. It got a bit less once I started travelling the globe for work, even less when I landed my arse in jail, but we were tight. I hope he’s alright.”

The touch of emotion in his voice makes me want to go to him, comfort him in some way. But I don’t because I have no idea if us hooking up in private is a secret, or if he’d be open to me showing him attention in front of others.

He catches my eye, looking up from where he’s sitting on the bed, to where I’m standing on it in order to reach the annotations I was adding to.

“I’m sure he’s doing alright. He sounds like he can take care of himself.” Seffy says the reassuring words I wish I was able to.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. And hopefully once I pass this thing, I can seek him out. If they were able to open a portal or whatever to bring us here, then surely we can use those once this thing is over.”

“I wish I had someone,” Seffy says quietly. “I was quite alone. I had a few friends, I guess, but they were more concerned with out-besting each other in all aspects of their lives.”

“I didn’t have anyone either. I was in a gang but they only cared about the skills I could bring, they didn’t care about me. I’m sure I’ve already been replaced.” Rio laughs.

“What about you?” Seffy says, nudging Tacita’s leg.

“Oh, my parents are great. They’re only across the–” she cuts off like she was about to say something she shouldn’t. “I mean, they were about half an hour from my flat. We’d have lunch most weeks when I was at home.”

“They in the business also?” Wyatt jumps on the titbit of information she’s sharing. In fairness, I’m also listening to the conversation in earnest now, leaning against the wall instead of adding notes to it.

“Assassins?” Tacita laughs. “No, they’re both teachers, but they know what I do and support it.”

“Wow. You must be missing them?” Seffy asks.

“Yeah, this is the longest I’ve gone without contact for a while.” She offers a small smile and picks at the fabric of the duvet she’s sitting on.

“Well then, as soon as this thing is over, you and I are going to figure a way back to the Earthly plane,” Wyatt declares.

I feel the sucker punch at being left out but don’t physically react.

“And you, of course. Any family of yours we’ll be tracking down as well?” Wyatt shifts to pat my socked foot. Warmth fills my chest for about two seconds at Wyatt including me afterall but then it quickly cools to ice in my veins.

I shake my head.

Flashes of the family that left me flit across my head, with the numbness of being abandoned washing right in behind like a tidal wave. Then the darker demons try to surface, the ones made of fire and smoke and blood. So. Much. Blood.

Punching the wall, I step off the bed. This was stupid. I’ve been stupid. How could I think that being here would make it better. They’re never going to leave.

Before anyone can stop me, I’m out the door.

My breathing is all messed up by the time I’m back in my own room and diving under the covers of my bed. Curling up as the screams fill my head, the scent of petrol strong in my nose, the memories try to drown me.

“Hey,” a female voice cuts through the noise of destruction and the mattress sinks beside me. “It’s okay.” A hand lands on my side over the quilt I’d pulled over my body to try and escape.