In Fear and Faith - The Solitary Life

I hated lying to her, especially about something like that, using my mother, using the connection we had because of that night to steer Jordan away from the truth, but I couldn't think of any other option. I had often thought of my mother as A, so the lie came easily. But I knew that wasn't the question Jordan had meant. She wanted to know who the A Levi had almost let slip was. She wanted to know about Ambriel.

It worried me what the boy knew, what he had seen in my mind, what he had sensed in it. But he was young, maybe he didn't understand what he'd seen. I hoped he didn't understand. I hoped he wouldn't go running to Abraham and tell him everything he must have learned.

Jordan stared at me as if expecting me to say more, as if telling her my mother's name wasn't enough. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have gotten up and left when the little boy did, that's what Jordan had been expecting. She hadn't even noticed me there for the first minute, just stared off into the room, her mind fast at work on some problem I hadn't the slightest inkling of. I wished I had her Gift sometimes, but then I'd have to feel her again, and I knew I couldn't do that, couldn't handle being so close to her, feeling our connection and still be cold to her, be distant and empty. I had kept what I could of my own abilities far from her since my arrival, but I knew I wouldn't be able to handle her Gift like she did. I didn't deserve it.

"Are you waiting to hear my father's name too?"

I said the words without any conviction. Even with my Shift I couldn't make my voice mock her for simply sitting and watching me. We were in her room after all. She wasn't the one that should be leaving, I was, but I didn't want to, not yet. I didn't want to sleep or train or spend my night wondering where Kael was, where my father was, what Abraham had planned and when he would let us know. I just wanted to sit where I was, even in silence, with my Pair near me. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't be in her presence, not peacefully at least, not without abusing her somehow, making her hate me more, separating us further.

I knew I shouldn't waste the opportunities I got, waste the times I could make her despise me more, but it was so hard, so difficult to kick her when she was already down, already just barely keeping herself together. She put up a good front, but it was easy to see the cracks in her, always widening, deepening. Even at the mere mention of my mother I could see the strain on her face, see the walls bending in the wind from her memories, her emotions. I hated how easily I could do that to her, how easily I could destroy her. Someone like me should never have that kind of power over someone like her. But I did, and I had to keep hitting her down to the pavement, keep making every memory she had of me poisoned.

This memory would be one of the worst to destroy, but I still had to, especially had to, it didn't even matter if I wanted to anymore. There was no choice. If I wanted her to let me go, to let her Pair go, if it was even possible to let go of the one person that was made to mirror you, to complete you, then I had to stomp out every thought she had of me, ruin every good thing we had shared. I wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of whatever battle was coming, of being alone. I knew I wouldn't be alive for it. She would be the one who would have to live on with half of herself missing, half of herself forgotten and rotting in some unmarked grave, knowing that she had lost the only gift this world ever held for creatures like us.

The only thing I could do for her now was slowly pry my claws out of her, slowly break the threads that stitched us together, one memory at a time, one strand of care at a time. Maybe if it was done slowly, gradually, it wouldn't be so hard when I was gone for good, maybe it would be a relief to her. I prayed it would be.

"My mother was a monster, not the kind from heaven or hell. She didn't have a single drop of otherworldly blood in her veins, not that I know of at least. She was the most common kind of monster, a human one."

My words got the desired effect, as Jordan went as white as the sheets she sat on, her eyes larger than the full moon I knew was high in the sky outside. So I continued, I wished I didn't, wished I didn't have to, but I did. I kept talking, kept reliving the memory right along with her, but it was different for me. It couldn't hurt me like it hurt her. I had my Shift, I had the control and power and armor. She had nothing. I continued nonetheless. Mercy now wasn't as good as survival later. Mercy was so rarely a gift for our kind, not in the long run, my father had taught me that.

"He aimed for my heart, I knew it too, I could easily see. He said he would try again, for a stronger son. He was finally going to kill me. I had dreamt of it a thousand times. I had seen it in my mind happening, but it really was going to happen, finally."

I stood as I spoke, as I let the words I had told her months ago come from me again. Last time I had been confiding in her, trusting her with so much more than I had ever given to anyone else, but this time my words were meant to hurt her. Meant to make her hate me for all the lies I had told her since then, all the trust I had broken since that night. I saw my words working, saw the pain in her eyes as they began to take on a faraway look, seeing what they had back then, in my room, in the firelight. When she thought I was someone she could believe in, someone she understood, someone she could trust.

"I told myself she had done it out of selfishness, that she wanted to die, to be free from him. I thought she wanted to make me stay, force me to keep living a life under his control. I used to think she hadn't done it for me, but she must have."

I stood towering over her now, willing her to play the memory back in her mind. My Shift pushing the memory into her still-human thoughts, willing her to feel the loss of what she had believed she found in me. I used my Gift to glamour the room, to make it look like mine at the manor, copying every detail I could.

I was gone. I was dead and she needed to know that, needed to know that the man she had had this conversation with the first time was never coming back. I stared down at her as I spoke, but she didn't look back, she looked straight ahead, through me, her head shaking back and forth slowly, like she wanted to disagree with me, tell me to stop. Soon her mouth even moved, like she was trying to say it, trying to tell me to stop, begging me. But her lips only formed the word, stop, stop, but no sound came out, and I continued.

"Love is weakness, maybe that's why I thought my love for her was hate, because I hated her for making me weak. I should have died. I should have at least cared, or been grateful for her sacrifice. I may wish it had been me, but how could she have known, how could she have known I wanted him to pull the trigger?"

I didn't know how I remembered the words so perfectly, the memory so clearly, but I did. Every detail of her face, of how my voice had sounded altered, how my words had run together, how my mind had been slowed. How her eyes had looked so soft, so gentle in the flickering firelight. How she had looked close to tears just listening to my memories. And now I was using it all against her, using a memory I cherished to hurt her.

Levi was a liar. I wasn't good. There was nothing good in me.

She still sat on the edge of her bed, but she held her head in her hands now, her fingers tangled in her hair, her hands half covering her ears like she wished she could block out my words, block out my voice. I didn't know how I could do it to her, how I could do more than merely hurt her, remind her, but I could. If it was some remnant of our connection then it was a dark part of it, but I needed her to hate me for it. And I knew she would.

I stood and left her to finish the memory on her own. I knew it would be worse that way. As I closed her door I looked back in, seeing her still leaning forward where she sat, her palms clamped over her ears now, shaking her head from side to side like she could still hear me, like she was reliving the memory, and I knew she was.

I kept my Shift over me as I walked to the closest gym, not wanting to bury it and deal with the crushing guilt I knew was waiting for me, the self-loathing. Ambriel met me at some point in the hall, but I hardly noticed. I sat in an empty gym, my ghost companion close by my side, as I stared out across the floor. Even in my Shift I couldn't keep my mind from thinking of Jordan, from wondering if she had broken out of the tainted trance I had put her in yet. Wondering if she would be able to sleep without nightmares. Wondering if she'd be able to sleep at all. Even in my Shift I began to feel sadness, guilt, disgust in myself, and that alone terrified me.

I felt something beneath my eyes and wiped at it absently, still lost in my thoughts. My fingers came away a dark red, almost black and I swore under my breath as I cleaned the rest of the familiar liquid from my face. If I trusted Abraham more, if I trusted anyone, I would ask about it. Ask what it was, ask why my tears were like dirty blood, why my eyes felt on fire, why even my Shift wasn't enough to keep my emotions at bay anymore.

When I opened my eyes again Ambriel was smiling at me, a cruel smile, she reached out and wiped away some of the stain I had missed, her smile tipping higher. I looked away.

» ✦ «

I was back at the manor, back in James' room, the firelight sending distorted shadows over his face as we sat together. I could smell the smoke, the pine and mint of his room. I could see him sitting right next to me, his hair like a shadow, his eyes occasionally closing for long pauses like his words caused him some unknown pain. I could feel the heat of the fire seeping into me. I could feel the emotions I had at the time, but they were worse now, because I knew what he was now, knew that my feelings for him would mean nothing, that they had only come from tricks, from lies he had spun. My mind ached with the knowledge of what he really was, and what that meant I was. I would have done anything to protect him then, to take away his pain. I had even tried to take it away, to pull it from him and into myself. I had been such a fool.

I remembered how I had actually liked his dark hair, thought it suited him better, thought he reminded me of a wolf, the most beautiful, regal creature in my mind. I scoffed at the mere memory now. He was a wolf, but not in the way I had thought. He wasn't a magnificent, noble creature, he was just a thief and a liar and traitor. I remembered him telling me that True Pairs shared percentages, how he had carefully chosen his words so I would think we were both eighths, though he had never actually confirmed our blood's strength. I could hear the words in my head as if James was still speaking them, though I knew he had already left my room, quietly closing the door behind him. It didn't matter, I was stuck in the thought, stuck in his damned cave of a room, listening to him lie to me.

That's where the term 'Blood Twin' originally came from, that our blood is equally...tainted. Nevaeh made a good guess of your percentage, and my parent's blood is the same strength as yours'...meaning they were broken beyond repair. They had too much Fallen blood to ever truly be good. My mother was completely Human, my father is where my lineage comes from.

And then I heard him speak of his childhood, one of the few things he had told me that night that wasn't a lie or meant to mislead me, that was fully honest, though I wished it wasn't. I heard each word like it was truly being said, ringing in my ears, echoing in my mind, and no matter how I tried to block it out, I couldn't. His voice wouldn't leave me and I couldn't banish the memory. I heard James' quiet voice tell me he had killed his father, that he had returned and avenged his mother, another lie. I had believed him then and I felt like the stupidest of women because of it. I should have never trusted a word that came from his mouth. He was a snake and I should have been able to see that.

It's hard to see the broken pieces past such a pretty face, but your leader isn't who you think. You're on the wrong side.

The message from James' father rammed through my daze, mixing with it, consuming me more, pulling me further under its current until panic rose in me, terror that I would never make my way out. I had been so stupid. He had told me, warned me. I had been blinded by who I thought he was, by my silly emotions and the infatuation I had mistaken for something meaningful. I knew I wasn't on the Collector's side, but that didn't mean I was on James' either. That's what I hadn't realized. I thought there were only two sides, only ours and his, but he hadn't lied when he said I was on the wrong one. That I didn't know my leader. That I wasn't seeing James for what he really was.

I fell back into the first memory. I saw myself brushing back the dark hair from his face, his head in my lap. I could feel its silky softness run between my fingers as his eyes closed. I could feel his warmth pouring into me as sleep called. And then I heard the rhyme his father had told him, that he had told me, and tears welled in my eyes.

Leave love to the damned and be destroyed by her soft hands.

My hands ached as I tried to block the noise from my ears, my palms pressing into the sides of my head, wishing the words would leave my mind.

Leave mercy to the Fallen and have your power stolen.

I could feel my Shift in me now, biting and snapping its jaws, trying to protect me from the unseen enemy, from the memory of a night I thought I would always cherish.

Leave faith to the deprived and it will unravel your mind.

I remembered the feelings of madness, of my mind slipping away from me during my withdrawals, when I would have rather accepted death than continue on how I had been.

Leave kindness to the strong and be haunted by your wrongs.

Syn's gold-flecked eyes stared at me, his neck split, blood pouring down his chest, a question in his eyes, asking me why I had killed him. Why I had drawn my darkness to his Clan. Why I had allowed the evil in me to poison his family.

Leave trust to the dark and be weakened by your heart.

I would never trust again, each time I did, whether on purpose or against my will, tragedy had followed. Catastrophe found everything I touched, everything I cared for and I would never make that mistake again.

If Levi was right and I was somehow defined by love then it was the ultimate punishment, the cruelest joke on my existence, something the heavens surely laughed at. Everything I 'loved' died, was destroyed or taken from me. My love was a curse.

Leave a heart in your chest and it will surely be your death.

I understood now what the poem meant, that it was to be a warning, a caution to our kind, to steer us away from trying to be human, trying to love and hope and believe and grow soft and weak. Abby was wrong about me, about James. My shell of a pair was the smart one for hardening himself, for carving out the soft places in him, for ripping out his own heart. He had to. What he was now was what we were meant to be; Halflings, strong and brutal.

Nothing good comes to things like us, and wishing for it, expecting it, would only break you down, only steal your will, your life. I should have listened. I should have seen the wisdom in the rhyme instead of hating it because of who it had been from. I had been such a fool.