Page 4 of Wicked Ties
I needed my sister back. Beckett was my soulmate, but Tilly was my soul sister, my family. She was the one person who knew my life, and we lived it together. Until she got turned into a demon and then into whatever this shell of a human was.
Maze shook his head and held his breath. Cards shot from the pockets of his army pants and started to swirl around his head. Neon green smoke seeped from his hands.
Beckett sighed, “Dude, I know you’re not trying to intimidate Astrid.”
I swiped my hand to the side, letting my own power loose. Golden tendrils of magic knocked the cards from above his head, scattering them to the wind. “As if.”
Maze opened his pocket, and they filed back in. “Carefully.”
I narrowed my eyes at him then turned back to Tilly. “Talk. NOW. What are you doing here?”
A growl ripped from her throat, and her hands balled into fists. “TRYING TO FEEL SOMETHING!”
She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself. Water puddled around her knees, and she shook back and forth as she stared at the ground. She sat there shaking in the pouring rain, holding herself. “Just need to feel something.”
Maze stepped toward her, and I held my hand out, stopping him. I dropped down beside her and wrapped my arms around her, pulled her close. “Let’s get you home.”
She didn’t say anything, just sat there stiffly in my arms. I glanced over my shoulder to Maze and nodded toward Tilly. Without a word, he walked over and dropped down onto one knee. “Come on, sunflower. I got you.”
He scooped her up into his arms, and she let him. She was so strong, yet her little body appeared so fragile against his big frame. She tucked her head into his shoulder, curled in on herself, and didn’t bother looking up. Her eyes were locked on the ground, completely expressionless. Blue light exploded around me, and I knew Beckett was taking us home. I could only pray that once I got her there, we could all figure this out . . . maybe.
CHAPTER 3
TILLY
Freezing shudders wracked my body, sending tiny drops of water flying all over the bed and onto the plush white carpet. Astrid threw a towel around my shoulders and laid my hair out on it. I felt nothing but the physical, and even that was a shadow of what it used to be. Astrid hurried around her old room, pulling things from the closet for me. She held up piece after piece, examining them, then shook her head, as though none of those outfits would be acceptable to me. The reality was, I didn’t give a shit. I would’ve worn the tube top and shorts, or the silver halter top that Astrid snickered at and tossed over her shoulder.
I sat cross-legged on the corner of her big fluffy bed, watching this all. This room was so familiar, but not. The fuzzy comforter gathered around my body in a messy pile. I pressed my hand to it, feeling the raindrops running off my trench coat and onto the soft material. Distant memories of lying here laughing with Astrid drifted through my mind. Clothes, shoes, and blasting music filled the room, and we would laugh for hours and just hang out. But now, soaking her blanket, I didn’t belong here. I belonged on the streets, not in this fancy apartment, and not with these people.
Astrid stopped in the middle of her room and met my eye. For years, I knew her emerald eyes like they were my own. That dark auburn hair reminded me of when we were kids, and I could find her anywhere, in any crowd. She was always there for me. But she couldn’t be here for this. I didn’t know her anymore, but I knew from old memories this would hurt her. I would hurt her.
Astrid held a black sweatshirt and dark blue jeans out toward me. “How about these?”
“Good.” I nodded.
But I didn’t want to take off the coat, the one thing that brought me comfort. She grabbed the towel and used it to scrunch the water out of my hair. I sat still, waiting until she was done. I could hear the others downstairs, talking and joking with each other. My little escapade in the alley was nothing compared to some of the things they’d done. They knew it. I knew it.
When she was finished, I rose to my feet and let the trench coat fall to the floor. Astrid pulled my soaking shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. She was gentle with me, like I was family. Yet all there was for me was a hollow numbness. I slid my hand into the oversized hoodie and let it fall to my thighs. The jeans were soft and stretchy and fit like a glove. When she dropped a pair of boots in front of me, I glanced up at her.
“They’ll fit. I know your size.”
I grabbed a pair of soft socks and shoved them on my feet. It’d been a while since I’d worn shoes. When I shoved my feet into the heavy boots and laced them up, it felt unnatural, like my toes couldn’t breathe . . . I left them on.
I stood there all dressed and ready, yet I didn’t want to go downstairs, didn’t want to be with people. I prefer to be on my own. Full hermit mode . . . engaged.
Astrid sighed and shook her head. “You can talk to me, you know.”
I said nothing.
She threw her hands up in exasperation and let them fall and hit her legs. When she turned for the door, I wanted to reach out and grab her shoulder and pull her back, but I didn’t.
I murmured, “I can’t.”
She froze and slowly spun around. “What?”
“Talk to you.” My words were halting. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” She held still, waiting. But I could see the disappointment in her eyes.
