Kismet woke up alone on the couch. Pain throbbed in her chest, an ache so deep it left her gasping. She shook her head, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Crusted tears scratched under her palms.

The living-room window was open. The scent of rain drying in the sun wafted in on the cool morning breeze. It chilled her skin, bringing her closer to awareness. Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen and eggs sizzled on the stove. Kismet sat up and peeked over the back of the couch.

Alistair slouched at the table, nursing a mug of coffee while Nyx was busy at the stove. Navy blue and ash grey ribbons emanated from both siblings. The pain in Kismet's chest did not belong to her alone.

To a degree, she understood Angel's need to peel himself off like a band-aid, but the wound left behind was still open and bleeding.

"You want eggs?" Alistair asked when he noticed she was awake.

Kismet nodded and got off the couch, padding into the kitchen to sit with him at the table. Nyx focused on the frying pan, scrambling the eggs with a fork. Oil hissed and spat. She cursed, hopping out of the way.

"Would you like some help?" Kismet asked.

"No, I got it.” She held her body tight and tense.

"Those eggs are good and scrambled," said Alistair. "Why not sit down?"

"I'm fine." Nyx removed the pan from the burner and scraped the eggs onto a plate. "Anyone want any pancakes?"

Kismet almost wanted to say yes simply to appease her.

Alistair leaned back, groaning in exasperation. "Please sit down."

"I will, I will, just let me get this sorted." Nyx arranged the eggs alongside toast on three separate plates before bringing them to the table. "Then I just gotta -"

"You're killing me here," he complained.

Nyx sighed and slouched into the chair between them. She shifted her eggs with a fork. "Are these too fluffy?"

"They're fine," said Kismet, taking a bite. They needed more salt, but she didn't dare say so.

"Are you sure he's really gone?" Alistair asked. "Remember when we were ten? He ran away but came right -"

"I'm sure," Nyx snapped, her fork falling, clanking on the ceramic plate.

Waves of grief poured from Alistair in long, rippling ribbons. "He didn't say good-bye to me."

Kismet's stomach churned.

It's all my fault. I destroyed everything. Again.

"He had his mind set on leaving," said Nyx. "You're the only one who could have talked any sense into him. Are you forgetting he didn’t come back from the beach that night on his own? I remember he’d built this puny tent out of driftwood and old tarp, determined to stay in it.”

“Yeah,” Alistair laughed a little at the memory. “You went down there after him.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me,” she said. “I even threatened to move in to try and make him budge. We stayed there all day, long after the streetlights came on. I thought for sure Mom and Dad were gonna be pissed. I got so scared of the dark, Angel walked me home, but he was gonna go right back to the beach. It was you that convinced him not to.”

“All I did was lure him in with a comic book,” said Alistair, poking at his eggs. The gold in his aura dimmed, making way for waves of navy blue and gun-metal grey. “I don’t think there’s anything I could have said to him last night. I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

“We have a plan,” said Kismet. “I’m going to read the Watcher’s minds when they get here to see what Ivy’s intentions are.”

“Are you sure about that?” Alistair asked.

“Kizzy, you don’t have to,” said Nyx, sighing. “He’s already gone -”

“I want to,” she said. “They might have other knowledge we could use, maybe even stuff about Operation Pomegranate and why Angel was created in the first place.”

Nyx got up to scrape off her plate. “I don’t see what good it’ll do us if we can’t tell him.”

“I don’t want to believe we’re never gonna see him again,” said Alistair with wide eyes.

“Well, believe it.” Nyx plunked her plate in the sink with a clatter. Red ribbons snaked around her body over a cloud of burgundy fear.

“So you’re just giving up entirely then?” Alistair asked.

She turned to them, her hands on her hips. “Well, what should we do? I have no clue where to even start looking for him. Do you have any clue where he could have run off to?”

Alistair looked away, drumming his fingers on top of the table.

… it’s not really a place…

“What?” Nyx asked. “What do you know?”

“He made me promise not to tell you,” Alistair blurted, “and you guys were broken up at the time, so you can’t be mad.”

Kismet felt her own heart rate increase as flashes of red shimmered through Nyx’s aura. The back of her neck grew clammy and she squeezed her hands into fists.

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Nyx narrowed her eyes. “Tell me.”

“We ran into Jack and Caroline there one night after work,” Alistair explained. “I went back to the hostel, but Angel stayed out all night with them and went to a couple of clubs. Something about slot machines, I dunno. Anyway, it’s possible he could reconnect with them, I suppose.”

The blood drained from Nyx’s face. Burgundy flashed through her aura, cutting through the streaks of red and grey.

“He better not,” she said. “He’ll be caught in a heartbeat.”

“Maybe give him some credit,” Kismet said. “He was getting pretty good at controlling the glowing, so long as everything is going smoothly.”

“Sorry Kizzy, that does not make me feel any better,” said Nyx, sitting back down at the table. “Sure, if all goes well he can contain it, but we all saw what he was like last night. If he hangs out with Jack and Caroline, everything will not go smoothly. That’s for sure.”

Kismet’s stomach churned. Whether he was with Jack and Caroline or not, she knew all too well how easy it was to slip up. On top of that, she was also painfully aware of the toll it takes trying to repress abilities.

He’s a ticking time-bomb.

“Ok, so here’s what I propose,” said Kismet, wringing her sleeves. “I’ll go through with reading their minds and gather as much info as possible. Then, depending on what we learn, we can take a trip to the mainland to find him.”

“He said no,” said Nyx. “Maybe he’s learned enough. It might be cruel to put more knowledge on him. If he wanted to know, he would have stayed.”

“He wasn’t in his right mind,” Alistair said. ”There’s a chance he’ll want to know when he cools off.”

Nyx rummaged in her shorts for a cigarette. “Fine, if you two want to go, have at it. I’m done chasing him.”

After breakfast, Alistair excused himself to go to work and promised to return in the evening when they’d flesh out their plan.

Kismet helped Nyx clear the table. The scrape of forks against ceramic plates filled the silence.

A loud knock on the door made them jump and Nyx put the plate down.

..Angel...

Kismet cringed in the split second it took Nyx to correct her thought, collect herself again and head for the door. She followed her into the porch.

Julian stood on the deck, his eyes bloodshot. The sclera turned a jaundice yellow.

"Did Angel come home last night?"

"No. He didn't," said Nyx.

His face fell. It looked craggier and far older than before. Bushy eyebrows scrunched in worry. Magenta sparks flared in his ash grey aura.

The two women stepped aside so Julian could come in. They sat together on the sofa and he sank into the armchair.

"So the rumours are true?" he asked. "About the fight with Carl?"

"I wouldn't know.” Nyx’s mouth pulled into a grim line.

"This isn't a time for games," he snapped. Red solar flares lashed out around him. "Watcher Liz is going to report the accounts of the fight to Ivy, perhaps even as we speak. So if he's around here somewhere -"

"He's gone," said Nyx.

A wave of rage and grief rose in Julian. It washed over Kismet like a tsunami. The pressure was almost physical. She braced against the force, and couldn't bear to look at either of them. Instead, she watched her hands as they fiddled and tugged with the frayed threads of her sleeves.

"Good," Julian said, but his voice cracked. He looked toward the window, curling his hands into fists in his lap. "She'll be here soon. If you do know where he went - "

"I don't," Nyx said. Every word worked its way through a clenched jaw. "Even if I did I'd never tell her."

"Good," he nodded. "Hopefully this will all blow over. Angel better have enough sense in his head to stay hidden."

It’s not going to be that simple.

Kismet bit her fingernails and kept her mouth shut.

Julian's eyes landed on her, glaring. "Why'd you have to go and ruin everything?"

The question impaled her and stole the breath from her lungs. She almost wished he screamed it at her instead. Anything but the steady certainty.

"You had to go snooping around, blabbing about shit you had no business knowing," he growled.

She froze, unsure what to say or do. Her heart beat so loud, it burned in her chest. The air trapped in her lungs created a throbbing pressure. It squeezed her into a vice.

He's right. It's my fault.

"I'm so so sorry," she exclaimed. "I tried - I didn't want to - I didn't mean -"

Nyx's sudden hand on her arm cut her off mid sentence. "No, Kismet stop it. You don't have to apologize for a damn thing.” She glared at Julian. "You had twenty-two years to tell Angel the truth. If you had showed him even the tiniest hint of emotion -"

"I tried!" he yelled. "Believe me, I wanted things to be different between us, but Angel was -"

"He needed you, you blew it, and now it's too late!"

"If you would please listen -"

"Just get out," Nyx said. She ran her hand across her exhausted face. "I don't have anything left to say to you."

Julian sighed and got up. "Fine."

The front door slammed behind him, rattling the window pane.

"I'm sorry." Kismet couldn't stop shaking. The hive of voices rumbled at the base of her skull, threatening to surge upward, fighting for space with her own thoughts. "He's right. It's my fault. I read your mom's mind, and I saw them, and -"

"Stop, Kismet," Nyx pleaded. "Just stop it. None of this is your fault, ok?"

"I made everything worse." She collapsed on herself, sobbing. The walls pressed in. Air would neither leave or pull into her lungs. Stuck. Trapped.

She tried to remember how to breathe like Daisy taught her, but it was all happening so fast.

It's not working...

Nyx sandwiched Kismet's face with her hands and coaxed her to look up until their eyes met.

"You're ok," she said. "Just focus on me."

Kismet exhaled slowly and nodded, struggling to bring her attention to the sensation of gentle hands on her skin. She pushed through the surface level sadness swirling around Nyx to the sturdy dark cherry aura beneath.

"Don't let Julian get to you for one second," Nyx said. "He's allergic to accountability."

"But I -"

"I don't care," said Nyx. "All we can do now is take it one step at a time. The Watchers, maybe even Ivy herself, will be here soon and I'm gonna need you to stay present. Can you do that?"

Kismet sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. She nodded. "I'll try."

Nyx let her go and sat back. "I don't think I can do this by myself Kizzy. I can't even trust my own mom and dad anymore and -"

"I won't let you down." Kismet reached over and took her hand.

"I know," said Nyx. "I really appreciate it."

"It's the least I can do."

Afterward, they sat outside on the porch. Butterflies flit about in the yard. Neither of them openly acknowledged what they were waiting for, but the tension clung thick in the air. The wicker chair seat sagged in the middle. It groaned whenever Kismet shifted. The fog of grey and blue colours wafted off Nyx like the smoke at the end of her cigarette.

Kismet distracted herself with a paperback, but her mind wouldn't stop wandering.

The street was quiet and still. This moment was liminal and precious. She let herself be held suspended in the present. Waiting. The fragile air was bound to shatter.

For now, cumulus clouds drifted over the sea in the distance. A deep blue strip in the horizon with no sign of last night's storm.