Kismet woke 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 still 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. 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 said. Her body held tight and tense.

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

"I'm fine." She 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 thirteen? He ran away but came right -"

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

"He didn't say good-bye to me."

Waves of grief poured from Alistair in long, rippling ribbons.

Kismet's stomach churned.

It's all my fault. Maybe I didn't try hard enough to make Angel stay. I shouldn't have read Jay's mind or said anything to Daisy at all. I destroyed everything. Again.

"Is it because he thought we would care if he came from a lab or something?" Alistair asked. "It doesn't change anything. He's still the same old Grub to me. I just wish he'd given me an opportunity to say so."

"You're probably the only one who could have talked any sense into him," said Nyx.

After breakfast, Alistair excused himself to go to work and promised to return in the evening.

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 blood shot. 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 inside. 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," said Nyx. Her mouth pulled into a grim line.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"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."

Kismet knew better than anyone it wasn't going to be that simple.

Whether or not Angel chooses to hide his abilities out there or use them on purpose is only going to determine how quickly he gets caught. Sooner or later, someone will see something.

She bit her fingernails and kept her mouth shut.

"Why'd you have to go and ruin everything?" Julian asked Kismet.

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 until it burned in her chest. The air trapped in her lungs created a throbbing pressure, squeezing into a vice.

He's right. It's my fault. No matter where I go, or what I do, I'll only bring destruction. Maybe Angel is the one who has it right.

"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. Everything was fucked before you got here and he damn well knows it." She glared at Julian. "You had twenty-two years to tell him 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 -"

"I don't give a shit," Nyx snapped. "He needed you, you blew it, and now it's too late."

"If you would please listen -"

"Just get out," she said. "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 said. She 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. read your Dad's mind, and I saw Ivy beg Julian to take Angel in. I told Daisy 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.

Breathe. Just breathe like Daisy taught you.

But I can't remember how... it's not working...

Nyx sandwiched Kismet's face with her hands and coxed 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. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But I -"

"I don't care," said Nyx. "None of this was on you. All we can do now is take this 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 think so. I'll try."

Nyx let her go and sat back. "I don't think I can do this by myself Kizzy. You and Alistair are all I have left. 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."

"Can I ask you a favour?" Nyx asked, dipping her head. She fiddled with a loose string dangling out of the couch upholstery.

"Anything," said Kismet.

"Don't say that until you hear what I'm going to ask. It's a lot," said Nyx. "Feel free to say no. Promise?"

"I promise."

"When the Watchers get here, will you use your powers to read their minds?" Nyx asked. "That way we can figure out what their intentions for Angel are, if Ivy wants to help him or not. Maybe Ivy knows what happened to him or why The Old Academy made Operation Pomegranate in the first place."

Kismet's eyes widened.

Gathering secrets from Watchers and The Headmaster herself must be some kind of illegal.

"I dunno -"

How would she even know I was doing it? What would happen if I get caught?

"I told you it's a lot. It's ok if you don't want to. I just thought -"

"No, it's fine. If you think it'll help, I'll do it," said Kismet. "What will we do with the answers?"

"Maybe we could help him figure things out about himself, why he was created in the first place. If Ivy's willing to help him, maybe we could convince him to come back?"

"Nyx, I don't think he's going to want to work with her no matter how this goes."

She sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek. "We have to try. I can't just sit here and do nothing while we wait for them to hunt him down. Even if she drags him to The Academy kicking and screaming that's better than dead."

"Is it?" Kismet asked, frowning. "It might be better for us, but he won't be happy."

"Well maybe she'll let him be free?" Nyx asked. Hope glimmered in her emerald eyes. "That's a possibility too."

"Yeah, I suppose..." Kismet twisted her sleeves.

You don't believe that anymore than I do.

"If you want me to read Ivy's mind, I'll do it. Even just to give you some peace." Kismet tightened her grip on Nyx's hand. "You gotta be ready to hear the answers. You might not like them."

"Thank you Kizzy," said Nyx. "I'll accept whatever the answers are. I just need to know."

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.

End Of Volume I