Page 25 of Cursed Lifeline

Pushing up off the piano bench in anger, it scrapes across the marble floor behind me, and I brace my hands on the top of the fall board where the music rack sits. My knuckles turn white as they grip the wood.

Tonight was the first time I’ve played an instrument in over a century.

Maybe my mother was right.

Esme has made me want to step back into the land of the living.

Living.

The word strangles my damned heart as a spiteful chuckle leaves my lips.

“Felix,” my mother cautiously questions as she steps closer.

“Is it worth it?” I hiss. “Denying my uncontrollable thirst? Denying her?”

“What does your heart tell you?”

I slam the top of the piano closed with so much force I’m surprised it doesn’t break. Turning sharply, I walk out from behind the bench and start to pace the music room of my mother’s estate.

“I don’t know, Mother, what did your heart tell you?”

“That’s not fair, Felix.”

I glare at her, a little more harshly than intended, as she folds her arms over her chest in a warning and raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she begins to say, but I cut her off.

“Everyone always has a choice.”

“Including you, Angel.”

I fight the urge to give her another angry glance and instead, roll my eyes as I continue to stride bitterly back and forth in the shadows of twilight cascading through the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows behind me.

“In fact,” my mother continues, “because of your powers, your abilities, yourchoicesaffect this situation more than you think. More than the slayers. I speak from experience. I was controlled by a higher power, and I didn’t have the chance to figure out how to manipulate it before it was too late.”

I huff out in annoyance. “And if I feel like I am the one being controlled by a higher power? What then, mother?”

She doesn’t respond.

With my back turned to her, I stop pacing and look out the large medieval windows in front of me.

“I’m sure your father felt the same way,” she says softly a moment later.

“Yeah,” I scoff, “And look how well that turned out for him.”

“Watch your tone, Felix,” she snaps.

This time, it’s my turn to stay silent.

“You have the power to change everything,” she says.

Spinning around to meet her hopeful stare, my anger gets the better of me, and I laugh, “What the hell does that mean?”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t bite back and scold me for my disrespect. Instead, her eyes fill with a sort of regretful heartbreak.

“Life is a series of tests, Angel.”

She takes a deep breath, steps further into the room, sits gracefully on the piano bench, and gestures for me to do the same. I refuse and stand my ground. Shaking her head, she looks off behind me and studies the shadows of night beginning to grow. I let her gather her thoughts and wait impatiently.

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