Souls Divided [Souls Series 1]

Chapter 9

The bar, if you could call it that, was a converted mess hall with better lighting and a shelf of bottles behind the counter that had clearly been fought over more than once — was already half full by the time they claimed a table near the back. Malik ordered enough food for twice their number, on principle, and something amber-colored that he insisted Anya try "purely in the spirit of team building."

It was, mercifully, easy. Easier than she'd expected the day to be. Freya traded dry commentary with Malik about whose fault various old scars were. Rohan, three seats down, said less than everyone else but seemed, for the first time all day, like someone actually present in his own body. With his back towards the room, he seemed to let go of the performance of being the commander of the specialist unit and just enjoyed seeing his unit, his friends Anya realized, argue about the truth of tall tales.

"The painter," Vane said, eventually, quiet beside her while the others argued over whether Malik's version of some old story bore any resemblance to what had actually happened. "You said she could outshoot you. That seems like a pretty big compliment coming from you. She must be happy with that gift."

Anya turned her glass slowly, watching the light catch in it. "Quite the opposite, actually, in the beginning: She was an omega. Low-ranked, overlooked, she hid what she could see her whole life because low-ranked and strange was not a combination she wanted to be." A pause. "Her pack was attacked. Enemies veiled themselves — some kind of concealment magic, good enough to fool everyone else. She was the only one who saw through it, because of what her eyes actually did. She spoke up. Nobody believed an omega fast enough. People died before anyone acted on what she'd seen."

“Afterwards, she blamed herself for the losses her pack had suffered, blamed herself for staying quiet before that fateful day. If she had only told someone sooner, she believed she could have saved more.” Anya sighed, knew how hard it was to speak up for that first time and expose you are different.

"That's not her fault," Vane reacted.

"Try telling her that. Blamed herself, blamed the gift itself even for existing at all — like if she'd just been ordinary, none of it would have been her weight to carry." Anya shook her head slightly. "Her Alpha sent her to me for training, mostly because nobody knew what else to do with her. We worked together a long time before she truly told me what she could see, that she could see colors and shades we know nothing about. Wasn't until I got her to really describe it — that I think she started to realize what she'd been calling a curse was the most extraordinary thing in the room."

"What changed, exactly?"

"Nothing dramatic. I just kept asking her to show me the world the way she saw it, instead of the way the rest of us settle for. Telling her over and over again that there was no wrong or bad answer. Eventually she stopped describing it like an apology."

Anya paused, and something in her voice shifted, quieter than before. "I recognized that feeling, I guess, that was how I was able to connect with her; blaming yourself for existing wrong, for asking for space and understanding where there was no need for it before. I've been doing that my whole life, asking people to try and understand what and who I am, just with a different gift." She shrugged, too fast, like she wanted the sentence to weigh less than it did.

"Took her a long time before she trusted her gift was beautiful enough to put it on canvas. She did try to be a marksman before that, felt her gift had to have a function, but even when she beat me I could feel her heart wasn’t in it.” Anya laughed a bit at herself for that last part, she herself was too competitive to not get satisfaction from winning. It was part of who she was.

“Now the Queen has one of her pieces on the wall behind her when people bow to her in her office.” Anya enjoyed the idea that people, unknowingly, showed respect to the art of her friend every day.

Vane didn't say anything clever back. He just reached over and set a hand briefly on her shoulder — no weight to it beyond plain solidarity, the kind of gesture that asked nothing in return. He seemed to understand the sadness you could feel from being different and not wanting to be.

And then the world went sideways for half a second.

Not physically. Nothing moved. But somewhere behind her ribs, in the place the special mindlink with her sister usually sat, as quiet and unremarkable as her own pulse — but now something surged, bright, sudden, unmistakably Aveline, insistent in a way that made her head spin.

Anya set her glass down carefully. "Head rush," she said, already sliding out of her seat, aiming for casual and mostly landing it. "Skipped breakfast. Give me a second."

Nobody stopped her. She caught Malik's eyes tracking her anyway on her way past, sharper than the moment strictly called for, and didn't look back to check whether Vane's expression matched it.

The bathroom, when she found it, was empty and badly lit and exactly private enough. She locked the door, pressed her back against it, and let herself actually feel what she'd been keeping at bay, trying not to show anybody what was happening.

"Aveline?" And she reached for her in her mind and across the distance. "I'm here. What's wrong?"

The answer came a beat later than usual — like Aveline had to focus on the connection, while it had been her to open it in the first place, strange… When it did come, it wasn't clean. “Anya, sorry, I don't — give me a second, I don't know why I did that.”

“You don't know why you did what?”

“Reached out to you. I just — needed to. Suddenly. Like something pulled. I felt like I had to be there with you.” A pause, and Anya could feel her sister's confusion as clearly as her own, twin discomfort mirrored across the miles between them.

“Are you hurt? Is something wrong at your end?” Aveline asked Anya.

“No. Fought the Delta and then my new commanding Alpha, or most likely soon to be… long story. Won both. Bruised, but not hurt more than usual.” Anya let that sit a second, weighing how much of the rest to say.

“Got a bit in my head and emotional about how it always sucks when you are different, got confrontational on the field, gave a whole speech… but just now, when we were discussing it again, Vane was really understanding, so nothing major, just my usual shit.” Anya shrugged it off. “And suddenly it was like a door slammed open in my chest. That's how you felt reaching out to me.”

Silence, on the other end. Not the comfortable kind. Aveline was clearly thinking, analyzing and being her protective self. “That's… new,” Aveline said finally, careful in the specific way she got when she was choosing every word twice. “We've never had this before.” She paused, “Vane?” She asked, at the verge of a thought it seemed.

“The Gamma of the specialist unit I am supposed to join,” Anya responded, thinking nothing of it.

“Could it be that he did something to you, or you felt something for him…?” Aveline seemed to be trying to suggest something, but Anya wasn’t getting it.

“Spit it out dear sister,” Anya grunted in her mind, “I never had your gift for subtlety.”

"Nothing. Never mind. Probably nothing." Aveline's retreat was almost too quick, the kind of quick that usually meant the opposite of nothing. "Long day. You said it yourself — emotional, confrontational, bruised. I probably just caught the overflow."

"That another one of your spy skills? Explaining away things you clearly don't believe, with a completely straight face? You know I can feel that face… even through a mindlink.”

"It's a very useful skill, thank you." A flicker of real humor there, thin but genuine — the first hint of her actual sister underneath, whatever careful act she was pulling off, over there. "I have to go. Someone's coming."

"You always have to go right when it gets interesting."

"Occupational hazard." A beat, softer. "I'm fine, Anya, it’s fine. Promise. Just startled myself, is all. Go shoot something, or someone, and scare them with your amazing gifts."

"Will do, after beers!” She could feel Aveline being amused at that through the mindlink. “Go be terrifyingly competent at spying. Seduce them all."

"Always am and always do. Love you. Be careful."

"Love you too. You be careful. Sounds like you're the one playing more dangerous games than me today."

The link went quiet again, folded back down to its usual low hum, and Anya leaned against the door a moment longer. Overwhelmed. Long day. That was all it was.

She didn't quite believe it. But it was a fine enough thing to believe for now, and there'd be another day tomorrow to actually look at it properly.

Time to head back out there.