Cian

When I found Vinny inside, he was pressed against the foyer window, watching Eden disappear. She hadn't brought her Tesla, as a way of being less conspicuous, I suppose, and was walking down the road on her own. I watched her retreating form for a moment, hair stark black against the pallid color of her blouse. Just as I turned away, she brought her hand up, brushing her earlobe yet again.

Stepping back from the window, I said, "Vince, can I tell you something?"

He turned, the sun behind him making him a mere shadow. His eyes were flames, blue flecked with gold, intense and unyielding. I must have let my concern creep into my tone, for he mirrored it in his. "Yeah, sure. This has something to do with what Eden was here for, doesn't it?"

I just nodded at him, then heaved a long sigh and took a seat on the bottom step of the stairs. I straightened my legs, taking up the length of the step, leaning my head back against the wall. "Promise me this first," I began, shutting my eyes. "When I tell you this, you won't try to tell me any different, Vinny."

When he didn't reply immediately, I opened my eyes. He hadn't moved an inch, was still leaned back against the front door, staring at me. It was in these moments of still silence that he was most like a ghost again, observing and noticing everything and yet sharing nothing. It was unnatural how he could be both living and dead at once.

I ordered again. "Promise me, Vinny."

He hesitated once more, but finally spoke, his voice hollow and uneven. "Alright," he gave in. "I promise."

I pulled the envelope Eden had given me from my pocket, the unpredictable noise of crinkling paper echoing through the foyer for a brief moment. Vinny cocked his head, but didn't say anything else, not until I'd unfolded the letter and read it aloud: "'To the delightful Cian Horne: I hope this letter reaches you in good health. How has that shoulder been healing?"—I paused to scowl at this, and when Vinny tried to ask, I shushed him—"Well, I hope. Anyway, my angel, I'm afraid my patience has reached its limit. I've called my legion to a peaceful gathering—at which there will be plenty of delectable refreshments—at the old concert hall downtown, Friday night. Surely you must know of it; it's not more than a block away from Caprice's club. Your attendance is mandatory, and I'm hoping I don't have to bring you forcefully. Try to dress nicely. Your decision will be made there—whether you join me or consent to the deaths of your friends and your city is up to you. You know what to do. Signed, Nick."

By the time the letter was over, Vinny had sunk to a seat, his knees folded up against his chest. He looked immeasurably disconsolate, cavernous eyes trained at the floor in front of him. He tapped a few short, blunt nails across the polished mahogany floors before he exhaled. I knew the words that were coming out of his mouth even before he said them. "I know what you're going to do."

"You can't stop me."

"I know that, too."

I paused. That much, I hadn't been expecting from him. I kept looking at him, waiting for him to give me eye contact, but he never lifted his head. "You're not even going to try?"

"So what if I did?" Vinny mused. "You'd walk out the door anyway."

"Vinny—"

"You'd be just like Dad."

Every single red blood cell inside of my veins turned to icicles; it was almost as if I could feel the frozen spires scraping against the inside of me. I sat up abruptly. "No. No I wouldn't. Dad left because he doesn't care. I'm leaving because of the opposite. And who says I won't come back?"

"You won't come back, Cian!" exclaimed an exasperated Vinny. He took a moment to regain his breath before speaking again, finally looking directly at me. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. Your body might come back, but you won't. You think you can fight the dark magic those guys meddle with? You can't. You won't be Cian anymore. And I'm terrified about that."

"Vince," I squeaked. "I'll always be Cian. I'll always be your brother."

He watched me for a moment, his expression unsure and yet hopeful. Unable to have access to his favorite hair gel for a day, the fair strands draped over his eyebrows, ribbons of strung gold. "What did Eden say to you, then? Nothing that changed your mind, obviously."

I thought back to how close she'd been to me, the unnerving feel of her skin against mine. I cleared my head when I had thought for too long. "I was supposed to be Nick's figurehead, his symbol of an uprising against the Order. Eden was trying to tell me I'm more than that—that I'm a key."

"A key?" Vinny blinked, curious as a mouse.

"She said Nick's opening something, Vinny. Something even she thinks should not be opened."

"God," hissed my little brother under his breath. "For Eden to have said something...she must be serious. He must be serious."

He got to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking oddly presidential as he approached. When he was close enough, he placed one foot on the step I sat on, gazing down at me through the curtain of his hair. "You must be serious," he finished. His eyes searched my face for signs of hesitation, but his expression settled when he found none. "God, Cian. You're really doing this, aren't you?"

I nodded. "I didn't want to go without telling you."

Vinny scoffed. "Courteous of you."

"I'm sorry," I said, "but I just don't think there's any other way..." I trailed off, a thought popping into my head.

All this time, I'd been looking at things the wrong way. I thought I was hopeless, that Nick had me totally twisted into his grip.

But no, he did not.

Vinny must have seen the smile grow on my face. I was alive with a new excitement, springing to life. I got to my feet, grabbing Vinny by the shoulders. His eyes rounded. "Cian?" he began, unsure.

"Vinny, I know this is crazy, but I...I have to do this. I want you to know, however, that I'm coming home."

Vinny's blue eyes flickered darker. "Cian, I just said—"

"No, you're not listening," I clarified. "I'm going with Nick, sure, but I won't let him change me. I won't let him do a thing. If I am his key, so to speak, then I can make my own decisions."

Now Vinny was just staring at me as if I belonged in a looney bin. Which I did not, promise. "C.J., you do realize that nothing coming out of your mouth is making sense, right?"

"It will make sense. If you trust me. Vince, do you trust me?"

His gaze flitted to my hands on his shoulders, which were wrinkling his jacket. I lifted them, and Vinny gave a sigh again, raking his hair back from his face. "Of course I trust you, Cian. You're my blood relative."

"That's not a good reason. We have creepy uncles I in no way trust."

"Are you serious?"

I just stared at him.

"Fine," Vinny muttered. "I trust you, because...because I know you'd do anything for me. Even if that makes you a complete lunatic."

"Better," I commended with a nod. I glanced up the stairs, in the direction of my bedroom, then swept my gaze back towards the front door. Vinny stayed silent while I did this, but it was the kind of silence someone gave you when you were being weird.

I knew I was being weird, but I had a good reason.

"Now what?" Vinny asked me.

"Now," I said, "I rent a suit."