Page 22 of Seared Fates

“Morning,” Apollo calls from where he’s perched on the kitchen counter, balancing a cup on his knee and looking like a blackbird; all dark features in black ripped jeans and loose band tee, his hair fanning around his face and Forget-Me-Not tattoos scattered across his neck and arms.

“Morning, thanks for letting me crash last night,” I say, rubbing away the sleep blurring my vision so I can better take in my surroundings while nuzzling back into Apollo’s sheets.

Apollo’s flat is one large, open-plan room, showered in light from bare windows and a skylight. The only division is the bathroom door and mismatched furniture shoved to the edges. If it weren’t for the painting on his ceiling, sky-blue with the faintest impression of clouds—the skylight a replacement for the sun—it’d feel like an enclosed box.

A calm settles over my frayed nerves. Normally, after yesterday's chaos, I’d crave the order of my own space. But in the messy, familiar charm of Apollo’s stacks of cassette tapes (which really should’ve been the giveaway he was a fifty-year-old vampire), and his haphazardly organised shoes, I’m finding it easier to breathe than if I’d been alone to ruminate on my thoughts.

“Don’t worry about it.” Apollo hops off the counter, his cup miraculously not breaking when he tosses it into the sink, with a red film clinging to the rim. My friends casually drinking blood these days is… well, I definitely didn’t bloody expect it, that’s for sure. “And I’ve cancelled your clients for today.”

“What?” I grumble. “You didn’t need to do that, mate. I’m fine. Really.”

Apollo cocks an eyebrow, and from the way my voice wavers, neither of us believes it.

“Yeah, I did, lad. Your head’s all over the place. Give yourself a breather, yeah? Besides,” Apollo grins as he strolls over, feet slapping against the white laminate flooring, “I’m your boss, so what I say goes.”

Anger rises, but I can’t stand against the wave of relief that follows. I love my job, but the idea of interacting with clients makes me want to crawl under the sheets and hide.

So instead of fighting it, I let my eyelids drop and get more comfortable. “Aye aye, Captain.”

“At ease, cadet.”

I drift in a hazy place while listening to Apollo grab his keys and rustling as he slips on his denim jacket. The clacking of cassettes as he searches through them. Soon, I’m not even in my body, or worrying about my stupid heart. Or dealing with the part of myself I want to hack off—the jealousy.

Golden didn’t even want his soulmate. Apollo pretends Rurik doesn’t exist. Why am I the sad sack that gets left behind?

I only realise I’ve been tugging at my hair when Apollo starts speaking again, and I have to force my hand down into my lap.

“I forgot to mention…”

My eyelids creak open to find Apollo hopping up and down, forcing his foot into a black Converse shoe.

“That creepy spellbook appeared outside my door this morning. I chucked it in the freezer,” he tells me, casual as if to let me know we’ve got milk.

“Urgh, so it really is following me. Sorry. Is the smell bad for you? Vidar, erm…Vidar said it stank.”

Vidar’s name is sharp as it leaves my lips, cutting deep enough to taste blood.

But fuck—how I crave every letter.

I avoid pain. I don't even have a tattoo. Yet I love the shape of it, and I’m angry at myself and Fate and Vidar and maybe the whole universe, that some part of me would take the pain every. Single. Fucking. Time.

How I wish I could cut this incessant pull I have towards the big vampire.

“Why do you think I’m going to work so early?” Apollo jokes.

Apollo shoves his keys into his pockets and heads for the door. But doesn’t leave, simply stands there, like he’s waiting for something.

“You alright, mate?”

He lifts a palm, playing with the dust motes trapped in a ray of smoky sunlight. “I’ve…got something to tell you.” His dark, feathery hair spills across his cheeks. “But I’ve forgotten, Kai…I forget a lot. But whatever it is won’t happen now, or for a while. I think, anyway.”

Frowning, I ask, “W-what do you mean?”

Apollo’s downcast gaze stays lost to the light across his fingers. “No idea, just be careful, yeah?”

“Apollo, I know your mind is…Well, I don’t have a clue about your mind. But…” I stand, the white covers pooling at my feet. “But Summer said something about light mages, and you—”

“Kai.”