But there were no lingering traces of energy residue in the air that a normal spirit or ghost would inevitably leave in its wake. And Evan had only encountered a foreign force strong enough to completely cover its tracks once in his life.
Two days back, at Greene Mansion.
Sothatthing had followed him into his house.
Of course it had. With Evan’s shitty luck, it was a miracle he hadn’t been possessed already. After all, Crimson Eye was no longer on his finger to protect him.
Evan glanced out of the window at the dark clouds hovering in the evening sky. His nose tickled with a faint, distant smell of moisture. A downpour was coming. Perhaps a storm. Which meant it would get dark soon.
Which also meant he had to drive Aaron out and away from his house before the storm. If Evan was going to die fighting this thing, he didn’t want a spectator.
Watching someone you love die in front of you wasn’t something that ached for a while, then faded away. It was an open wound one would carry for the rest of their life, unable to forget or heal from.
Evan knew that feeling like the back of his hand.
Five minutes later, Aaron entered the room, and Evan stretched his arms overhead, pushing the empty bowl of soup aside.
“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night,” Evan said, stepping around the pile of glass pieces he’d gathered in a corner.
Aaron was flabbergasted. “Again?”
“What do you meanagain?”
“I can’t believe after sleeping for two whole days you’re still drowsy,” Aaron chuckled, picking up the soup bowl and carrying it to the kitchen. From there he called out, “I’ll clean the few dishes in the sink, then leave. You can go lie down.”
“Just leave already, idiot!”
“Rude.”
Evan fiddled with a thread hanging off the hem of his t-shirt, a frown crawling up his face. If he’d known he was going to die so soon, he would’ve at least talked to Celie more. Cuddled Misty some more.
Maybe I should’ve had sex some more too—
Whoosh!
A sharp wind sliced past his side, spreading a chill down one side of his body.
Evan tensed, swallowing a curse. He was already wound up tight, but that thing was trying to make him snap.
Of course it was.
Anger, if pushed far enough, could inadvertently crack open one’s core of spiritual energy. If one couldn’t control his emotions, controlling the core was out of the question.
Every human carried spiritual energy within them. Some more than others. It was that very energy that made some people more vulnerable to spiritual possession.
But unlike any ordinary person—who did not know how to control their spiritual energy—that thing couldn’t suck Evan’s power out of his body right now. His core of energy was locked away inside a light barrier that had taken Evan three years to form, and only he could open it.
Now, unless the thing was bloodthirsty for his flesh and didn’t care about Evan’s spiritual energy, he was safe.
Somewhat. As long as he didn’t lose his mind and accidentally let open his core like that night in the mirror room.
Rubbing his hands on a towel, Aaron strolled out of the kitchen. Evan pulled on a tired face—or his usual face—as Aaron picked up his blazer from the wooden chair and shrugged it on.
“Well, then, sleep lots,” he ruffled Evan’s hair, earning a glare, which he reciprocated with his stupid grin. “I’ll see you later.”
Will you?
Something pinched in Evan’s chest as he scratched the back of his neck, contemplating what to say. Then finally settled for, “Thanks…for everything.”