--=-Chapter 62: Ask Me Anything--=-

I tugged at the vest in discomfort, but it didn't really help. My chest stung where it had caught the bullet. Pulling away the vest didn't change that; it just seemed like it should. "You're a stupid bastard, you know that Jon?" Nia's voice said as I mouthed the words.

"Oh, no. The demon with the stolen voice is mad I gave it a booboo. How can I ever live with myself?"

"Would you just shut up and listen, you fucker." I snapped." I am Sam. I've known you since we were kids. We both had a crush on Erin C. in middle school. I cheated off your homework for basically all of biology in high school, and we barely passed. We were on our way to your parents' cabin when I made us crash. We've been roommates for–"

"Jesus Chri– just shut up. I loved Sam. You aren't them. I doubt you ever were. Either way, we're past that now. This is God's retribution, His judgment. You're cursed, spewed from God's mouth. Your words are hollow, meant only to twist the truth. Is that how you stole Nia's voice? You made her trust you and then took everything?"

"Fuck, man, just ask me something. Ask me anything. What do I need to do? Open your damn eyes, we don't have time for this."

"Father of Lies, whispering deceit in any willing ear," Jon spat. His parents had always been the religious ones; Jon had just been good at saying the right words. Between the apocalypse and joining team chapel, it seemed like Jon had found a faith he'd never really had before.

"Fine, if you're not coming to me, I'll come to you." He said, cooly.

Swearing to myself, I crab-walked backward up the stairs with one hand, using the other to point the gun in the general direction Jon would come from. There wasn't time to convince him, but I had to try.

"I can show you!" I half shouted, reaching into my pocket for one of the polished memory crystals. I had two left. I wasn't sure what had happened to the one Sori used to piggyback Nia and me into the Ether, but if it hadn't shattered, it was lying in the dirt back there.

I heard the scuff of Jon's feet as he climbed the stairs. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name. Get thee behind me, Satan, and shut thy damn mouth."

I was scrambling to get a visualization formed, a childhood memory.

I thought back to high school, the summer before our freshman year. Jon had gotten it into his head that I was going to grow out of being a dude since he'd started noticing the ways my body had been developing, to my immense embarrassment.

He couldn't get it into his head that his feelings of attraction toward me didn't define a damn thing about me. His feelings didn't get to dictate anything about me. When it came to my own body, my subjective experiences trumped his.

Of course, we were kids, so I didn't understand that well enough to put into words, let alone words that would have gotten through to another kid. Instead, I kicked the crap out of him in front of a bunch of kids from school. He didn't speak to me for the rest of the summer, and then, on the first day of class, he mumbled, "Sorry, Dude," while walking past my desk to sit right beside me.

It wasn't a fond memory, necessarily. Even if the pain had long since faded from that time, there'd been a lot of anger in those weeks we didn't speak. There'd also been regret—not about who I was, just how I handled things. I wished I'd kicked his ass in private, at least.

What's more, I knew he regretted it; he counted the entire summer as a waste, even though it was only the last few weeks we'd spent that way. I always figured it was his way of regretting indulging his fantasy even before we fell out. I needed to remind him we'd been here before. He was feeling and not thinking, refusing to think even.

I shoved as much of the memory into the crystal as I could in the moments I had. It flashed, and the mental strain eased, feeling like a sudden epiphany.

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"Jon, listen. I can prove it! I can prove who I am! Just press this crystal to your forehead," I said, rolling the polished stone down the stairs. I winced at every bounce. The crystals weren't indestructible. I was hoping these ones wouldn't break as easily since the edges were rounded away, but I had no way of knowing.

"Is that how you stole Nia's voice? Magic crystals?" Jon said, his voice still casual. The crystal bounced loudly down one step after another until it was about at Jon.

"Catch it, please! It's a memory from that time I beat your ass in front of Frederick and them. Just press it to your forehead." More urgency filled my voice than I liked, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Jon snorted. "Oh, I see, so it's how you took Sam's memories. Did you tell Sam you were me? How did you earn their trust?"

The crystal kept clacking along, passing Jon and bouncing down to the first floor.

"Damn it. I know you remember that summer. I know you regretted kissing me that day." I'd continued backing up the stairs and was approaching the third floor before I switched from a crab walk to a low crouch.

"Kissing should always be consensual," Jon said, sounding like he was nodding in agreement. "I'm not embarrassed that I learned that lesson young. Just because 'kissing' and 'killing' are spelled almost the same, doesn't mean they are almost the same. Killing is rarely consensual; sometimes, you just got to put down a rabid animal. Sorry, Yeller, you're madder than a hatter. I ain't never kissed a dog."

Jon had stopped walking as the crystal bounced toward him, and I got the impression from the sound of his voice he was watching it pass.

I took the opportunity to pop up and get a look at him. He was telling me his thoughts, but I needed to see his face to be sure I understood what he was feeling. It wasn't the best moment for a glamour, but if I could avoid shooting him, I would.

His face was blank, like he was somewhere between unimpressed and uninterested. I'd think he was a drone if he weren't so talkative. I'd seen this mask before. He feigned confidence, or at least unconcern, but his body language told the real story. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw clenched. His knuckles were white from gripping his pistol too hard, and his eyes tracked the crystal.

He wasn't watching the crystal from curiosity; he was watching it with suspicion. He buried it beneath machismo, but he was scared— both unwilling and afraid to believe things were more complicated than they appeared.

Between my backpedaling and his own cautious approach, Jon was almost a floor beneath me. While he was approaching the second floor, I was almost at the third-floor landing. He'd surprised me by catching me in this stairwell, and I hadn't been ready. Thankfully, his caution gave me the chance I needed to turn things around on him.

In another circumstance, I'd be trying to figure out how to turn Jon's fear into sympathy or understanding. Eventually, I might have that opportunity. Unfortunately, between Jon's gunshot and accurate prediction of my approach, there likely wasn't much time before Buck, and possibly a bunch of melee-armed cultists, came as backup.

Instead, I'd use glamour to ratchet that anxiety up to panic.

The last time I'd jumped at Jon, he'd expected it and tracked me with his gun. This time, I took steps to disturb that focus.

Taking three quick breaths to steady my own nerves, I let loose a wordless battle cry and leaped over the rail. It would have been more impressive if I didn't sound like a child, but I wasn't done.

I understood Jon's fear, fear of the unknown, fear of the unexpected, fear of me. His gun rose to track me, but I pulled the trigger on the shotgun as I leaped, and he couldn't stop himself from flinching.

The spread didn't hit Jon, but only because I'd intentionally aimed away and far over his head. The blast was loud, however, and I used it to turn his anxiety into terror as I unleashed my glamour. Blue light connected our heads, and Jon's face paled.

Flying over the empty space between the stairs, my body smashed into Jon, sending the shotgun clattering to the ground. My foot struck the metal railing as my shoulder hit Jon, but he took the vast majority of the impact. I landed on top of Jon, and he gagged as the wind was knocked out of him.

His eyes rolled in fear, and I reached into my pocket to grab my last memory crystal. "Let's try this one more time," I growled in Nia's voice.

--=-

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