Cian

 I was on my roof again.

I knew it was a lot more dangerous now that I didn't have to wings to catch myself if I fell, but regardless, it was my alone place. The only issue was that I wasn't alone.

"You can't do this," Vinny said in my ear.

I ignored him and took another pizza roll from the plate at my hip. I bit into it, letting the warm sauce serenade my tongue as I took in the sunset, the sky morphing into deep shades of blue and purple. I zipped my hoodie up in an attempt to preserve more heat; Vinny was, as usual, making the night temperatures chillier than normal.

I had to fight the feeling that I was doing something wrong; I'd expected to have Lucie in my arms by now, but I was counting on the fact she'd be where Dempsey was. What if I was wrong, however, and that's what he wanted me to think? What if, by waiting on tomorrow, I was just wasting time?

I wished I'd never gone to Eden's house. I wished I had Lucie.

Vinny made an exasperated noise in his throat. "Stop eating pizza rolls."

"No. I like pizza rolls."

"You said something!" exclaimed Vinny. "Good. I was beginning to think you'd become a mime."

I picked up another one of the tiny pockets of sauce and cheese and bread, examining it with narrow eyes. These things and mac and cheese cups were the only items I was capable of cooking; let's just say I would never make it as a chef. I cut Vinny a sideways glance. "Of course I said something. I had to defend my food."

Vinny grunted and rolled his eyes. "Just think this through, Cian. What do you think Dempsey's going to do, if he even shows? He's not going to smile at you and hand Lucie over along with some grocery coupons, or whatever."

"Why would he give me grocery coupons?"

"I don't know!" shouted Vinny. "I'm just...I'm just saying. He's not going to be easy about this. He's going to kill you!"

"Not if I kill him first," I remarked, scraping up the last of my snack. I exhaled into the indigo air, muttering a prayer in the back of my head. Please be okay, Lucie. You're the last person I want to lose. Going on without her would be impossible. "Besides, even if I do die, you move on. Have you thought about that?"

The plate, now empty, slid down the roof and catapulted off of it, crashing loudly on the ground beneath. I glanced at Vinny, wide-eyed, but he shushed me before I could say anything. His expression was deadly serious. "That's not I want. I don't want to move on until you've lived a long, proper life. If I wanted to move on, I wouldn't have begged the angels to let me stay after I died, Cian. I don't know why you still don't get it. So, for God's sake, for Lucie's sake, stop trying to make sacrifices for me. I don't need that. You don't need that."

I sighed, shivering. "I have to go, Vinny."

"It's not going to end well."

"It's the only way I'm going to come even close to finding Lucie," I murmured. "If it's a trap, I'll work my way out of it. It's the only way to go. You're either with me or against me, Vinny, but I'm doing this. I mean, the guy said so himself: I can't back down or there's going to be consequences."

"So?"

"So?" I repeated in disbelief, glaring at my brother. "So, they're all wielders of dark magic. They can bend the rules, hurt you or even—even our parents. I can't have anyone else getting hurt because of me. I can't, Vinny."

My brother pushed his hair from his forehead and sighed, in a way that told me he knew I was right, or just that he'd accepted there was no changing my mind. I looked at him, the blue of his eyes darker in this lack of light. He was frowning at me. "With me?" I asked. "Or against me?"

Vinny paused, then averted his eyes for a moment. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

"Good," I replied, then started inching my way back to my window. When Vinny started after me, I shook my head at him and pointed towards the ground beneath us. "Now go get that plate you broke, you juvenile delinquent."

I hadn't been on the beach for years. In fact, I hadn't even known that the reason for this was that I was afraid, not until we reached Sailor's Point the next day and I felt my heartbeat speed.

I remembered the pale sand and clear water, waves foaming at the shore. Seagulls cawed above my head, dipping and rising again in the cloudless sky, the sun in clear view. Crabs dug themselves holes in the sand, seashells peppering the area, glittering in the sunlight like jewels. Wind whipped at my clothing as if playing with me; the scent of saltwater was strong in the air.

I inhaled, then removed my shoes, the soft grains of sand in between my toes. I went to my knees, digging my hands in. This. This was the place I had loved and had feared. This was the place that both given me everything and had taken away just as much.

I blinked at the water as another wave crashed. In the back of my head, both Eden's and Vinny's screams rang. Metal cut into my skin; my lungs were crushed—

"Cian?"

I coughed, turning around. Vinny was as far from the water as humanly—ghostly?—possible, seated on one of the several stones at the bottom of the gargantuan cliff Sailor's Point was known for. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Are you okay?"

I put my shoes back on, sand gritting in the laces as my fingers tied them. I stood back up, heading towards Vinny. "What time is it?" I called to him over the musical whoosh of the water behind me.

He pointed at the watch on my wrist, but his eyes were on me, concern evident in them. I exhaled and squinted at the clock's face. "It's past noon. He should be here."

Vinny's gaze drifted down the beach, towards where children laughed and played, splashing in the shallow waters as their parents watched cautiously from the shoreline. We were further down the shore, as far away from the main flock of people as possible. If I was meeting a murderous demon summoner, I was doing it somewhere discreet. "Unless he's not coming."

"Vinny," I warned.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he told me, moving his hair from out of his eyes. He looked sick, as if he'd been staring at the water too long.

I frowned at him. "You always have a bad feeling about everything."

"I have bad feelings about things that any smart person would have bad feelings about," Vinny shot back, and I sighed, scanning the beach until my eyes locked on something out of place. Jutting out into the pale sand was what looked like a cave, a monolithic stone the color of slate, several heads taller than me.

It seemed too massive to mean nothing, and Vinny needed to get out of sight of the water. "This way," I said to Vinny, and started towards the stone, the thickness of the sand underneath me slowing my pace.

He fell into step beside me, and when he laid eyes on our destination, cut me a skeptical sideways glance that I chose to ignore. When he started to ask, I shushed him. I didn't have time for questions. We had one goal, and that was to find Lucie, even if I had to go through her brother first.

At the cave, I stood warily in the entrance, pulling my hood up over my head and craning my neck back to see better. The light of the sun was nonexistent here, doused like the wick of a candle. Water dripped from the ceiling to the ground, echoing, bouncing off the cavernous walls. My skin felt damp and cold. "I can't see how deep it goes," I said, my voice echoing around me. I glanced at Vinny, who, as usual, looked uneasy. "What if it's an entrance to something?"

"It's a cave, Cian," Vinny remarked dully. "I don't see how standing in a cave is going to get us anywhere."

I shrugged. "I have a hunch."

Then: the unmistakable timbre of a man's voice, ringing from somewhere I couldn't see: "Good to see you, Cian."

I froze, and so did Vinny. I frantically searched for the person the voice belonged to, but came up with nothing, as it was either too dark or there was no one there at all. I took a step back, shoes scuffing the ground underneath me. I dragged a hand across my forehead to wipe the sweat that had begun to bead there. "I know it's you, Dempsey. Where are you, and where do you have Lucie?"

Silence.

A pair of red eyes blinked at me from the dark. Vinny let out a yelp, but I shushed him again, more forcefully. I squinted at the eyes, knowing it was a demon, but not what kind it was. There were ones like the shadow that killed you with talons and teeth, or that killed you by ingestion, like Nick's, and there were others. It was too soon, too dark, to tell which one Dempsey had decided to send us.

"Vinny," I said. "He sent this guy for me—so don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"Cian, that's what people say when they're about to do something stupid," Vinny responded, voice hesitant and unsure. His eyes were wide as he looked at me, demanding my attention. "What do you think you're doing?"

I gritted my teeth, freeing my gun of the holster I'd hung on my belt. "What I came to."

The red eyes blinked at me, glaring, burning so that they branded on the backs of my eyelids. Grunting in frustration, I picked up my pace, charging forward with all my speed. Without my wings, I was slower, but I didn't care. With or without wings, Lucie loved me, so with or without wings, I was going to get her back.

The cave tilted.

It spasmed and changed before me, the darkness falling away as it jarring light replaced it. The red eyes winked out like a light switch flipped off. Confused, I looked around, calling for Vinny, but there was nothing.

I was before a mirror in a bathroom I didn't recognize, my hands braced against the porcelain sink. Bleach and disinfectant assaulted my nostrils, along with the stench of illness and death; discomfort clawed its way through my skin.

I was in the hospital.

I examined my reflection—pallid, dewy complexion, papery hospital gown falling to my knees, hair greasily hanging over my eyebrows. Thin, black stitches were just barely holding the cuts in my face together. Startled, I touched a tentative finger to my cheek, my lip, where the debris from the collision had sliced through. I blinked, knowing why, looking at myself, I was suddenly younger.

This was the morning after the accident. I was only seventeen.

A memory demon—that's what it had been. In the back of my head, I scolded myself for being so stupid, but I had other things to focus on. Like how the heck I was going to get out of here.

Memory demons liked to play games, and the only way to win was to escape your own head.

There was a knock on the door. I froze up, already knowing who it was before her voice rang out: "Cian? Are you in there?"

I didn't want to live this again. This moment, this day, this hour, had been hell for me. The demon knew it, too.

I didn't feel in control of myself; it was as if I was watching it all play out, screaming from the other side of the glass, and yet oblivious. "Mom," I said, "where's Vinny?"

There was silence from the other side of the door. I remembered the anxiety unfolding inside of my chest, my heartbeat going faster and faster. Here, I felt it again, something ugly scratching at my veins.

Mom said, voice hollow, "Your brother...drowned, Cian. I'm sorry."

I blinked into the mirror. I'd already lived this. I'd already known it was going to happen. So why did I feel surprised now, feel as if my heart had been suddenly ripped from my chest? Vinny drowned. I was empty, my insides scraped out. Vinny was a limb someone had removed from the rest of my body, and the fact I'd never get him back sunk like a stone in my gut. I tried to control myself. You talk to him everyday. You knew this was coming. Stop, stop—

But I couldn't. It was the demon playing with me, with my head.

A scream rose from out of my throat; it was as bloodcurdling and awful as I remembered it, the scream of someone who had lost everything, including their self control. I heard Mom make a choked noise behind the door, and then it burst open, just as I had gone to my knees, burying my face in my hands. Tears streaked down my cheeks; I felt her hands grabbing at my wrists, forcing me to look at her.

Her blue eyes were so much like Vinny's, her fine, flaxen hair a mirror image of him, that it only made me sicker. I whimpered, and Mom's lips were set, the water in her eyes the only evidence she was broken at all. Her next words were as familiar as they were unfair: "Stop crying, Cian," she ordered. "We are Hornes, and since we are Hornes, we don't have room for weakness."

Her voice cracked. "Stop crying."

And when I looked up at her, still wiping the tears from my cheeks, that was when I realized what was wrong about this, all of this: my mother's eyes were red. The exact same burning crimson I'd seen in the cave.

I shuddered, then felt around for my gun.

My teeth gritted as I recovered it, placing my finger on the trigger. Mom's face hardened, her mouth opening to showcase rows and rows of blade-like teeth. The demon's eyes blazed in her face, and I shook my head, my fingers trembling. It's not her. It's not her.

I looked up, a shout booming from my throat: "Get out of my head!"

I pulled the trigger. One, two holes appeared in my mother's chest, and there was an unpleasant screeching sound, the animalistic call of a dying demon. The hospital seemed to fall away, folding in on itself. The bright lights of its bathroom were replaced by black cave walls, the scent of bleach quickly replaced by earthiness and moisture. The ground underneath my reddened knees turned rocky and cold; I hunched over, trying to catch my breath.

Vinny was instantly at my side, making me shiver. He said, "Cian! What on earth? You just kind of zoned out, and I thought you were dead—"

"No, no," I replied with a grunt, sitting up and mopping my brow. I searched the dark cave around me, but the red eyes were gone. The gun I'd stolen from Dad's office was lying before my knees. I picked it up in tentative hands, turning it over. "It was a memory demon. They get in your head, and if you kill them in the vision they make, then they die outside of it, too. Vice versa."

"That's...wow," Vinny said, as if that was a comprehensible observation. He sat back, getting to his feet. "Can I ask...what memory did it show you?"

I pulled myself to a standing position and placed my gun back in its holster. There was still an empty feeling in my chest. I didn't look at Vinny. "The morning I found out you were dead."

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then, "Oh." He turned towards me, blue eyes shining with sympathy. "Cian—"

He was cut off by the same voice we'd heard before the demon arrived, though this one was low and hissing, almost as if it was feeding us a warning.

"Come and find me, Cian Horne."