The Calling

NINE

Silus

Peace.

That was what I had the moment her eyes met mine.

Elara Sullivan.

Her name played over the chaos in my mind. Those eyes reminded me of summer storms and made me feel at home. There was a darkness to them that I longed to taste. What had tainted the soul of such a beautiful woman, and was she even aware? I sat within Annie's house, staring into the portal that had opened in the corner of her living room. Creatures twisted and slithered within The Void, calling to me, hoping I would cross.

I knew I would have to at some point if I wanted to live. But I had felt normal for that moment with Elara. I had actually felt warmth. What was that feeling? When she smiled, my stomach did something strange. I didn't know what to make of it.

I shook my head as a creature that seemed to be made of black vines lashed out with a thorn-covered tendril and scratched my face. The other darklings screeched and tried to come through the portal to get to my blood. Their eyes glowed as they reached for me. The portal was small. They couldn't get through, and even if they did, they couldn't last here for long.

I snickered at them and wiped the blood from my face. I stood and looked around the little cottage house. It was filled with pastel colors and floral patterns. It made me feel uneasy. Unlike my brothers, who seemed to favor these things of light, I had always been lost in darkness. Morning was breaking over the horizon. I'd spent too much time staring into The Void.

I wondered if Elara could truly bring me peace or if it was just a passing anomaly. Would I drag her into the shadows with me? For some reason, I felt a deep pain at the thought. I rubbed my eyes and smoothed my hair back, trying to clear my head of Elara’s beautiful face and the warmth consuming my body each time I thought of her.

How could one woman impact me so deeply in just a moment? The portal in the room started to close, and creatures shrieked and called to me.

"Our king..." they whispered.

I sighed and sent Dexter a text to let him know I was leaving. Then I ran out the door, sprinting as fast as I could, hoping to leave behind the world that haunted me. Maybe I could run so fast that I could leave The Void behind and finally be a real part of the world. My brothers maintained their lives. Sure, Dex had some issues, but those only started after Father became ill.

I'd been at war since the day I arrived, and I was so tired. How much time did I really have? It had already been seven years, each year becoming more taxing.

I ran faster and lost myself, shedding what little glamour I had. My hair fell behind me in long waves, and my eyes glowed with a bright gold. My teeth sharpened, and my skin began to grey. A sharp pain in my back made me realize what was happening, and I stumbled to a stop, collapsing to the ground, out of breath.

The morning was quiet, and I sat on the ground looking at my surroundings. I was in a bad part of town, sitting in an alley. I groaned and let my head fall onto my knees, pulling them against me. I could feel some of my glamour returning.

My hair went back to its short and shaggy unkemptness, and my skin returned to a human color. Father would worry if he knew this was happening. I wanted to call Merrick to get help, but I worried he would tell our father. And I didn't want that. Not with his health.

I didn't really know where I was, and small holes were breaking in the dimension around me. The dark oozed through, and whispers called my name.

Silus...

It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew I needed to get out of here. I clicked Rolland's contact on my phone and listened to the ringing. Rolland ignored the call, and I had to call a few more times before he finally answered.

"What?"

"Help me," I whispered.

"I'm not in the mood for these games, Silus," he growled into the phone.

The black ooze crept across my skin and seared into my flesh, leaving deep, black lacerations. I couldn't keep the pain from my voice as I called out louder,

"Help me, Rolly."

Everything went black, but I could hear my brother calling to me as I faded away.

I was startled awake by a rough, jostling movement. It took me a moment to realize that I was slung over a large, solid shoulder. My head banged against a muscled backside. I heard a familiar grumbling and realized I was being carried by Rolland. I waited a moment before reaching down and pinching one perfectly rounded butt cheek. I'll admit it was not an easy task between the jostling and my brother's complete lack of body fat. I was dropped almost immediately. I looked up from the ground and smirked up at my mountain of a brother. He glowered.

"Feeling better then?" he growled.

"Quite. Yes," I said as I checked my nail beds to feign a lack of care.

I could see Rolland struggling not to hit me. He took a shaky breath and shoved his hands into his jean pockets, his face flushing with rage. Normally, I would push him clear to the edge. I'd get pummeled, and he'd feel calmer for a time. But today, I felt weak from the events before, and something had shifted. It hit me like a bowling ball when I realized it. I cared that my brother was upset. Instead of the urge to annoy him further, I wanted to comfort him. The whole thing made me nauseous. Rolland shifted uncomfortably. I could tell he was waiting for me to play our game, waiting for me to take away his control.

Ugh.

And I felt bad watching him wait for me to drop the ball. What the hell was happening to me? I looked around and noticed we were in a better part of town, almost to Rolland's car. Had he carried me all this way?

"How far did you carry me?" I asked, keeping my tone flippant.

Rolland rolled his eyes and then met mine.

"A couple of miles. Like an i***t, I believed you actually needed me and ran all the way here."

He shifted uncomfortably again, running his hand over his short, brown hair.

A war was waged inside me. I wanted to be my normal self and agitate him, but I just couldn't bring myself to commit to that path. I stood, using the wall near me to steady myself. I noticed that I was covered in deep, black lacerations, like my skin had been seared. Rolland noticed too, and I thought I may have seen concern cross his face.

"Let's go," he demanded, barreling toward his old yellow Mustang.

I followed him without another word and slid into the passenger side. The interior was polished and clean. The seat was firm and comfortable beneath me. My seat was nothing like my brother's. The passenger seat was clean and barely used compared to his driver seat that was worn from years of his huge body forcing the seat to conform to him and all the time he spent driving. The only place I believed he felt truly in control. We had that in common—a lack of control.

I felt the strange feeling of fondness for him again. I shivered with discomfort. I was closer to Rolland than my other brothers. We were the youngest, and while I struggled to maintain my place in the human world, Rolland struggled to stay calm.

He never sat still. He was always tapping or moving. The slightest thing could enrage him into actions he'd later regret. Where I was generally void of emotion, he was constantly overwhelmed with it.

I watched him drive through my peripheral vision and noticed something surprising. He was speeding through traffic with a grace and focus I'd never seen in my life. Especially not from him. I felt overwhelmed with pride at this moment of control I was seeing from him and immediately looked away, turning to stare out the passenger window. I guess I'd been right to assume that this was the one thing he felt he controlled. His driving was smooth and graceful. I smiled with a little pride but caught myself and turned more toward the window to hide it. Unfortunately, Rolland had been watching me as well.

"You're freaking me out, Si," he said in an annoyed tone.

"I'm freaking myself out," I replied quietly.