Page 93 of Ruby Malice

I wave her off, and she scampers down the hall with obvious relief.

“Ilya.” I say his name softly. Sudden noises scare him. Screaming, too. He heard plenty of both the day of his accident, so it’s not hard to understand why. “Hey, Ilya. It’s me.”

His room is dark except for an unbreakable nightlight I had installed in the corner of the ceiling. It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust. I blink into the gloom. And just as my eyes start to be able to pick out fuzzy details in the room, I see the dark shape of him hurtling towards me just in time to dodge out of the way.

Ilya slams into the wall next to me. The entire house rocks from the force of it.

“Ilya, it’s me,” I say again. “It’s Kirill. I’m here.”

“Kirill is gone,” he says to himself. The words are muttered under his breath. They sound clearer than his voice usually does. I’m not sure if he’s talking about what he’s experiencing now or if he’s still half-asleep, living in his nightmarish version ofthatday.

The day he needed me and I wasn’t there.

I touch his arm, and he jerks out of reach. He falls back against the wall and slides down to a seat on the floor, catching the light on half his face. The terror written there is clear as day.

“Ilya, look at me.” I crouch down to eye level. “It’s me. Kirill. I’m Kirill.”

“Monster. Monster. Monster!” Ilya drags his hands over his face. Every part of him is starting to fidget and clench. The fear and anxiety is practically bubbling out of him. It’s a leak I can’t fix. An explosion I can’t contain.

“No, he’s not here,” I tell him. “Dad isn’t here. It’s me. I’m your brother. Look at me.”

But Ilya won’t look up. Won’t meet my eyes. He’s tugging on his shirt and his sleeves. His fingernails scratch against the wall, and I know he’s looking for more wallpaper to rip. The only reason I keep having more wallpaper installed is because Ilya likes tearing it off so much. Sonya doesn’t understand it, but she doesn’t need to.

I’ll do anything for Ilya. I failed once that night with Daria—and I nearly failed again tonight. But there won’t be a third time.

Ilya brings his fist down hard on his bedside table. A Rubik’s cube goes flying and clatters against the wall. The sounds sets him off even more, and he is rocking back and forth now.

“Ilya, listen to me,” I say. “I don’t want to restrain you, but I will. It’s me, Kirill. Can you look at me? Do you see who I am?”

“Monster,” he mumbles. “The monster has a hole. A hole for a face. Black hole. Monster.”

Each of his movements is becoming more violent. Stitches in his shirt sleeve are ripping and the paint on the wall behind him is flaking away.

There’s no stopping it now.

I take a step back to let him explode… and bump into a body.

Before I can spin around, there’s a warm hand on my spine and then Rayne steps around me. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts, which hangs past her mid-thighs, and nothing else. At least, nothing else I can see.

“I told you to stay the fuck—”

“Hi, Ilya,” Rayne says fondly, ignoring me altogether.

Instantly, Ilya looks up. His face is flickering between too many emotions to count, but he’s looking right at her.

She raises her hands and makes the symbol they created for her name.

“R… Rayne.” Her name comes out stilted from Ilya’s lips, but it’s there.

“Yeah, Rayne,” she says, happy. “That’s me.”

Ilya puffs up like he’s pleased with himself, but it fades quickly. He’s cowering against the wall.

“You seem upset.” Rayne takes another step towards him. I want to yank her back just in case this isn’t over yet. I’ve never seen Ilya get this far into a tantrum and be diffused.

Ilya presses his body back against the wall like he wants to melt into it. “The monster. The monster with no face.”

“Oh no! That sounds so scary. Is he here?” Rayne asks, voice trembling with concern.

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