Page 16

A fter bidding goodbye to Choi, Evan ambled back home with a brooding demon in tow. Excitement and nervousness kicked Evan’s organs around, making each step heavier than the last.

One year. One whole year without seeing Celie. How much could she have changed?

The last time they’d talked, she seemed to be in her I’m-a-moody-teenager phase. Genuinely, it was as adorable as it was scary. One minute she would make lemonade, leaving a glass on the counter for Evan, and the next, it would seem like she wanted to squeeze that lemon juice into his eyes.

But they hadn’t parted on good terms, and that had upset Celie to the point that she’d refused to see or talk to Evan for a whole year. Just when he’d convinced himself that they would become strangers like their mother and her siblings, Celie decided to come home.

This has to be a good sign.

“Do you like her?”

Evan startled, completely forgetting the red-clad figure looming behind him. People passing by on the sidewalk eyed Xen, some amused, others confused, but they stared nonetheless. Why wouldn’t they? Xen was a sight to behold.

In contrast with his blood-red suit, Evan was in all black, like a thorn in a rose.

Irritated for some reason, he snapped, “Like who?”

Xen tilted his head, trying to catch Evan’s eyes. “Celie Blackwood.”

Evan’s gait faltered. He glanced at Xen, who was staring at him with such focused intensity that a faint burn stirred up Evan’s cheeks.

“She’s my sister,” he grumbled. “Of course I like her.”

Xen didn’t speak, but his brows slightly furrowed as he straightened again, eyes narrowed at the ground. He went back to brooding again.

What was his problem? And what the hell was that reaction?

Evan stole more than a few peeks at Xen but couldn’t read his mind at all.

Speaking of reading minds…

“Oh, I believe we have some things to discuss of our contract, in detail,” Evan prompted, pocketing his hands. “I mean the blood bond.”

Xen’s brows remained knitted, eyes boring into the shadows at his feet. “What would you like to discuss?”

Oh. That was easy.

Wait, that was too easy.

“Benefits,” Evan sent a skeptical glare sideways at Xen. “I’m not your servant. You called it a blood bond, right? Not a slavery contract. Then why do I not get anything out of this bond ? What’s in it for me? And don’t you dare tell me you allowing me to have my soul is the benefit—”

“What do you want?”

Evan blinked. “Huh?”

A faint red glint flitted through his dark eyes, alight with amusement and something else, something secretive. “I’ll do anything you ask of me,” he murmured, words laced with an unspoken intent. “You need only say the word.”

A sharp exhale squeezed Evan’s lungs as heat crept up his face. Warm. Unwelcome. He clenched his jaws, detesting the beating organ in his chest that had suddenly forgotten how to work steadily.

Xen was deadly gorgeous, and he was well aware of it. And more often than not, he used it to his advantage against Evan.

God, for the zillionth time in my life, I wish I was straight.

“I’ll think about it,” Evan cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his coat over the heated skin of his nape, trying to regain his composure. “So, how do we go about digging up this trash you’re after?”

Xen’s lips twitched. “Relic.”

“Same difference. It’s unimportant to me, and I want it—along with you—out of my house. Just like trash.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Xen’s head turned to Evan. But he didn’t retort.

Exactly when Evan had become so feisty as to argue with a demon and call him trash, he didn’t know. Maybe he was just trying to vent his nervousness on Xen before going home to his sister with a broad smile. He distractingly touched the dark strands falling into his eyes, then the ones tickling his nape.

I need a haircut.

As they crossed a junction and left the busy street behind, something warm grazed the side of Evan’s neck. The muscles around that patch of his skin tensed in surprise. He threw a deadly glare at Xen, who seemed indifferent as they walked.

A tendril of demonic energy caressed Evan’s throat, eerily resembling the shape of a hand, coiling through the overgrown locks of hair at his nape and toying with his coat collar. It was the same kind that he’d seen the night he’d first met Xen, with red sparks gleaming amidst the black mist. Like a piece of the galaxy of the demon realm.

The Shadow’s fingers bounced around him, adjusting his collar and playing with his hair, tickling him every now and then. After a while of secretly enjoying it, he huffed.

“Would you stop that?”

Xen, who had been staring straight ahead, lost in thought, glanced back and tilted his head in confusion. “Stop what?”

“This,” Evan pointed at the hand that was feeling up his earlobe.

Xen’s eyes followed his finger, then narrowed. The Shadow froze.

Evan could’ve sworn he heard a whine before the hand shrunk back towards Xen and dissolved into his body.

“Can’t you control your demonic energy?” Evan asked, rubbing the patch of his skin that still tingled with warmth.

“It wasn’t my demonic energy,”

“Then what was that thing?”

Xen squinted in the sun. “Shadow form.”

“Shad—” Evan’s mouth froze before dropping open. “Hold on, you can perform shadow arts?”

Xen simply shrugged, like it wasn’t a huge deal.

But to Evan, it was a huge fucking deal.

Shadow arts was the only form of magic mortals couldn’t perform, because as long as you had a living, physical body, you couldn’t manipulate your shadow. Fortunately for otherworldly beings, like demons, they were never quite “alive” and could easily perform shadow manipulation. It was the only thing that made Evan envious of the inhuman beings.

Evan sighed, clicking his tongue in envy. “Lucky bastard.”

For a good while, they walked quietly and left behind the streets, treading the dirt trail leading to Evan’s house. Only after they were alone did Xen break the silence.

“Do you wish to learn?”

“What?”

“This,” Xen raised a hand, palm up. From it emerged a swirl of black mist, shifting and coiling before taking the shape of a hand. It waved at Evan.

Oh, that’s beautiful.

After a lingering look, Evan broke his eyes away. “I’m still human. A very much alive one. I can’t perform shadow arts.”

“You can’t control your own shadow, but you can learn to influence the ones around you,” Xen flipped his palm down, and the Shadow Hand hung from his little finger, dangling idly. If it had eyes and a mouth, it definitely would have giggled.

Fascination and curiosity—a deadly combination—took root in Evan’s conscience. But a hint of suspicion still lingered as he reached forward to poke the Shadow Hand. “How can I influence other shadows when I can’t even control my own?”

The Shadow Hand leapt from Xen’s finger almost eagerly and slid comfortably into Evan’s palm, all warm and cozy.

Xen quirked a smile. “When you let go of things you can’t control, you’ll learn to command everything else.”

As the Shadow Hand snuggled into Evan’s palm, he glanced at Xen. The wind from Del blew, and his hair fluttered, that red streak gleaming amidst the raven locks, his jaws set strong and spine straight like an iron rod.

It didn’t seem like Xen realized he’d preached a life lesson that people like Evan struggled to fully grasp until very late in life.

“Does it bother you?” The question escaped Evan before he could help it, the Shadow Hand crawling up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

“Mm?”

Evan pointed at the river flowing at a distance. “Del. It’s known to repel all kinds of creatures alike, no matter good or evil. And you’re clearly…”

Somewhere in between, but leaning towards evil.

A corner of Xen’s mouth lifted.

Before an answer made it out of his mouth, a few troubled voices distracted Evan. As they walked closer to the riverbank, four figures came into view: two girls crouched near the river and two guys pacing. They seemed young, perhaps in their late teens, dressed in modern, city-style attire. The anxiousness radiating from them was so thick it rushed into Evan with the force of a dump truck.

“I’m telling you we’re lost,” a girl with short pink hair complained.

“How can we be?” One of the guys frowned down at a rundown piece of paper in his hand that vaguely resembled a map. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “That old man said this was the way and to keep walking straight.”

“We have been walking for forty minutes.”

“What’s another ten?”

“I can’t feel my freaking legs—” Pink-head suddenly straightened and pointed in Evan’s direction. “There’s someone walking this way! Ask them.”

Evan let out a sigh. Strangers lingering near his house was not a good sign, was it?

The other girl from the group, in dark baggy pants and an oversized t-shirt, squinted through thick bangs covering her dark eyes. She gasped. “Evan Blackwood?”

That’s…not a good sign.

The group clearly wasn't from around town. There was no way they’d recognize Evan at first glance. Unless…his reputation had expanded its reach beyond the town’s perimeter.

As he contemplated turning around and heading back the way he came, he slowed his steps. As he did, someone bumped into him from behind. Clicking his tongue at Xen, Evan cursed under his breath.

Traveling on foot all day instead of in the luxury of Aaron’s car had tormented Evan. All he wanted was to go home and enjoy a nice heart-to-heart with Celie after not hearing her voice for so long. Well, at least not directly. Eavesdropping on Aaron and her phone calls didn’t count.

“Are you not going to help them?”

Evan jumped away in alarm as an unfamiliarly familiar voice spoke from behind him. The figure he’d been unconsciously leaning on wasn’t Xen. No, those brilliant silver locks and crystal blue eyes definitely didn’t belong to Xen.

That damned demon peasant had disappeared again.

“You…” Evan blinked furiously, partly annoyed and overall confused, wondering whether he was seeing things. “What are you—why are you here?”

Delos smiled, the intensity of it similar to that of a star bursting into Evan’s face. Too warm, overly fucking bright. And there was this strong scent of the river on him again.

“I came to visit you.”

Evan’s brows lowered as his confusion deepened. He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple. “I didn’t realize we were close enough to pay unexpected visits.”

We’ve only met once, for crying out loud.

Words held power. And Evan had not realized just how much till now, as he witnessed the light dim from Delos’s smile. The faint blush on his pale white skin vanished, and his face dropped. “Oh…”

Evan might’ve been a strong-willed man with an affinity to avoid human interactions, but no man was strong enough to endure watching Delos’s spirits wilt. His silver hair reminded Evan of Rue, which did not help his situation.

An ache stirred beneath Evan’s clavicle, and he cleared his throat, cheeks hot as he awkwardly offered an expired ointment to Delos’s fresh burns. “I-I was kidding.”

Seriously, Evan? He wouldn’t buy that bullshit.

Delos, in fact, bought his bullshit at full retail price.

His smile returned with double intensity, almost blinding Evan with the radiance. With a tilt of his head, he chirped, “Nice to meet you again, Evan!”

If not for the sake of withholding his tattered reputation, Evan would have clutched his chest and fallen to his knees because that was the cutest face he’d ever seen a human make.

And Evan didn’t even like humans, so that spoke volumes.

“Uh, excuse me?”

The group of lost teenagers approached Evan and Delos, their faces exhausted and sweaty.

The girl in baggy pants had her eyes lowered to the ground, long dark hair falling over her shoulders to cover most of her face, but her guard was completely up. The tension of her raised shackles reached Evan, and his eyebrow quirked.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” the boy holding the map pushed his glasses up his nose, his tanned skin glistening in the sun as he smiled. “But we seem to have lost our way—”

“Oh my God, you were right!” Pink-hair poked her head in between the two guys’ shoulders, ridiculously short even in her baby-pink platform heels. “That Blackwood face card doesn’t disappoint.”

Delos peeked around Evan’s arm with a curious look as Evan impassively stared at the group. “Do I know you?”

Spectacles tried to speak, but Pink-hair interrupted again, her fluffy hair bouncing around her face as she scurried forward, almost shoving herself through Evan as she grinned up at him. “I’m Elysia,” she pointed towards spectacles. “This is Nick,” then at the other boy who was quiet and engrossed in his phone. “Wren,” And the girl who refused to meet Evan’s eyes. “Rumi.”

“I’m Delos,” came a prompt from beside Evan.

“And I still don’t recall us meeting before,” Evan said, eyeing everyone with a wary look.

Just then the silent boy—Wren—muttered, “Celie’s friends.”

At that, Evan’s caution cracked, crumbled, and scattered away. He blinked before the meaning of those words dawned on him.

Celie’s friends.

Celie.

A small but rare smile drew his lips up, portraying just a fragment of his entire handsomeness. But little as it was, Pink-hair’s—and Nick’s—cheeks flushed as they gaped at him.

Wren cleared his throat.

Rumi counted the dust particles on her shoes.

“I’m sorry for the rude introduction,” Evan straightened, offering his most subtly pleasant expression. “I’m Evan Blackwood. Celie’s older brother.”

“Not at all. We were the ones who—” Nick glared at Elysia, who was still smiling sweetly up at Evan.

“Did you say you were lost?” Delos asked.

As if the group had just noticed his presence, all eyes turned to him. The wind blew through his silver strands, fluttering over his eyelids and brilliant blue eyes brimming with a friendly sparkle. That off-white shirt and pants looked like they were weaved with illuminating fibers. If he’d been mistaken for a Renaissance painting, no one could blame the observer.

Elysia’s flush deepened.

Nick’s jaws unhinged.

“We were,” Wren said, when the two orators of the groups remained dumbstruck.

Evan frowned. “How did you get lost? I thought Aaron—my friend—was picking you all up from the station.”

Nick quickly regained his composure and rubbed his nape, looking embarrassed. “Ah, about that…”

There were no stations in Emberlyn. After landing in the city airport and taking a train to the nearest station, the five friends had met Aaron waiting outside. Once their luggage was crammed into his car, there was just enough room for Celie and Aaron to squeeze in. Reassuring them that another car was on the way, they’d driven off.

But even after an hour of waiting, no car had come to pick them up.

“We waited for a long time, then took a cab here. But the driver refused to take us beyond the town bridge,” Nick said, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, flashing an awkward smile at Evan.