Page 58 of Awry
I’ve watched her walk across a field riddled with death, ignoring multiple stab wounds and carrying me across her back as she righted whatever imbalance theknowinghad pressed her to smooth.I followed her into a city ravaged by a dire-wrought plague, suffering infection and death just to shift the threads of one specialist, leading to a cure.I’ve faltered in jungles and rainforests, forcing my aunt to drag me along while she retrieved ancient artifacts of power that were never meant to be hidden away.
Two years ago, aknowing-prompted collection ended up being an utterly unique, exceedingly rare genus of flower.To this day, I have no idea of the significance of it.
Cayley suddenly sighs and slumps back in the bench seat, gazing beyond the window.She frowns, calling forth something she’s been trying to avoid remembering.And yes, I can read that on her without trying.
“I know you.”Her tone is low.She doesn’t look at me.
“That appears to be the theme of the day.”I keep the caramel milkshake close, taking tiny sips to savor it, but also so I can have the straw permanently fixed in my mouth during this conversation.A conversation I really don’t want to have, but which I obviously must endure before I can move on.Before I can fall into bed with a full belly and sleep for days.
“No … I don’t know what Tasmin is on about … but Iknowyou.”Cayley stresses the word ‘know,’ enough that she completely snags my attention.But there isn’t even a hint of purple in her eyes as she shifts in her seat, half-turning back toward me.She doesn’t meanknowin the awry sense.
Cayley keeps her gaze on my hands curled around the milkshake, rather than looking at me.So maybe my eyes do disconcert her, at least for this part of our interaction.
“Eighteen months ago … almost eighteen months …” She’s practically whispering, but there’s an intensity to the words.As if she’s forcing herself not only to speak to me, but also to acknowledge what she’s saying to herself, for herself.
The thread between us is no longer only a glimmer.It’s thickened but wavy, as if it might be in the process of branching or twisting tighter.But it’s definitely firmly anchored now.She feels she owes me something.I realize that in the way that I justknowthings, and despite continually sipping the caramel shake, I feel heavy again.
This is why I generally walk away following a knowing.Unless I’m correcting an imbalance in the first place, I take on the imbalance that my actions often create.I deal with the consequences, the aftermath.Sometimes by dying— perhaps in place of those who were supposed to die before Ifixedthings.
It’s also why … why I maybe … shouldn’t answer Presh’s text messages.
She can find another mentor and be better protected if —
“I watched you walk into a mage-fortified warehouse full of heavily armed yakuza, then walk back out with six young mixed-clan shifters.”
Cayley lifts her gaze to me, unblinking.She looks angry, then on the edge of despair for a moment.Then she closes her eyes and whispers, “I’d been on site for three days.On the third day … well, let’s just say I’d left the club without explicit permission, and I called in some favors from a chapter in my life that … that … hadn’t panned out.I had a last-ditch plan.I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours since she’d been taken, and I was soaked and starving.Because I was afraid that if I looked away, I’d lose track of Kiki.”
She takes a steadying breath and eats another fry.Her gaze is on the table between us, but not looking outward.
I wait.I could interject, maybe evenpushher recollection through to its end.But she needs to say it out loud, acknowledge it, so we can move on from this moment.
I think we’re supposed to move on, together, for some reason.But again, I’ve never felt that sort of personal connection before.Had I felt something similar with Grinder?
What is going on?I’m not built for, meant for, friends or friendships …
I shake my head and focus on Cayley.She hasn’t continued, like maybe the memories are getting away from her.
“Kiki is your … sibling?”I remember the teenagers involved, if not the fine details of the days following.And I can hazard a guess that Cayley is a better age to be a sister to a teen than a mother.
She nods stiffly.“Sister.We’re … kitsune.”
Kitsune.An exceedingly rare creature — so rare as to be verging on mythical.Cayley might be allied with the Outcast, but she’s more than just a shifter.Possibly more than she knows.
Her sister, Kiki, would have sold for millions on the black market.A young kitsune is a prize for a collector and definitely sought after as a potential breeder for a pack desperate for an influx of new blood and genes.
“I didn’t know,” I say.
Cayley looks at me then, something like awe edging her expression.I want to look away, but I don’t.We need to move past this …
But why?For once in my life, I really don’t know.
“You just walked right in.”
I nod.“Yes.”
“You came out covered in blood.The building on fire behind you.”
Did I?That part is definitely a bit hazy.I hum, not disagreeing.“I don’t think I killed anyone … not directly.”
