Cian

When Vinny finally shuffled back into the house, I was waiting for him.

I sat on the couch in the living room, one leg folded underneath me, the other dangling over the cushion's edge, my toe brushing the cold floors. The ceiling fan droned above my head, the room airy with the fading evening sunlight. If I listened enough, I thought I could hear the birds outside near our dock, the little splash of water as they sliced the waves open with their beaks.

Vinny came into the living room, pausing to drop the car keys in the tin on the side table, which was less of a tin and more of a haphazard clay thing I'd made in first grade. "Hey, Cian," he said congenially, his voice beginning to trail off with tacit question. "Uh...any reason you're sitting in front of a blank television screen? You know, most people watch things on TV. Like, shows. Or movies."

"You took the car?"

I glanced up at him. He wavered a little at the living room's mouth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Yes."

"Even though you can't legally drive?"

"I drove to you, didn't I?" Vinny responded, his eyes narrow. "Besides, aren't you the one that always tells me that I'm not really in trouble unless I get caught?"

"Maybe, but I'm an idiot. You're not supposed to listen to me."

At that, Vinny's mouth fell briskly into a frown. He took a step further into the living room, tugging at the hem of his navy blue sweater with mindless, nimble fingers. When he spoke next, his eyes weren't on me, but fixed on the ground with such an intensity you'd think he didn't know how to look at anything else. "What's this conversation about?" he asked, his tone soft. "Really?"

I unfolded my leg, leaning forward. "I don't know. Depends if you're going to tell me where you went or not."

Vinny twisted his mouth, as if considering it. He gave a sigh, then pulled his eyes from the ground. I was taken aback by how earnest they were; I suppose I always was. It didn't matter how many times I looked at my little brother—the vibrance in his gold-flecked eyes, a sea of truth, always absorbed me before I could fight it. He had the kind of eyes that did that, that crafted a whole new universe with just one gaze. "Why should I bother?" he replied, his voice half a hiss. "Why should I trust you when you clearly don't trust me?"

"Vince, what are you talking about?"

He inhaled sharply, his eyes darting away again. "I know, Cian."

"You know? You know what?"

"About the..." He burst forward then, seizing my sleeve before I could stop him. I yelped, but he had already yanked it up my elbow. His eyes traced the blackened veins underneath my skin, a poisonous fear blooming in his expression. "About this. I know what's happening to you."

Vinny's fingers were shaking. I had to pry them away from my arm. "Vinny, I just...I didn't want to worry you, okay?"

"This isn't protecting," he warned. "You always say you want to protect me. I don't need your protection anyway, but I certainly don't need it if that's what killing you."

"Jesus," I muttered, ignoring the burning within my mouth. "You saw Caprice, didn't you?"

Our gazes connected. The look on his face was all I needed.

I flung myself back upon the couch, tracing the spinning ceiling fan blades with an idle pointer finger. "Yeah, of course you did. And now you two are conspiring to do something about me, aren't you? Well, what's the genius plan? Are you just gonna put me out of my misery now, or maybe make the Order do it, just like they always do? A poisoned angel is no angel at all, right?"

Vinny didn't respond. I rolled away, so that my back was to him. "It's either I die now or I die later. There's no wings to cut out this time."

"CJ," Vinny said. "It's not just poison—you know that, don't you? You'd be dead now if that was the case."

Admittedly the sentence struck a chord within me. It wasn't a thought that had crossed my mind, that it could be more than just poison, that something different could be happening this time. I squinted my eyes shut. "Maybe, maybe not. I don't even care anymore—"

"Well, I do!"

I froze up a little, risking a glance over my shoulder. Vinny's face was bright pink, his hands trembling at his sides. I wondered when he'd started to grow angry so soon; the Vinny I knew took ages to build his fury. Now, he shone as vividly as a freshly struck match.

"I care, Cian, because I'm not just going to sit here and watch you wither away. I've worked way too hard for that. I don't care how sad you are about Lucie. You don't think I'm not? I'm dying here without her, trying to hold on to everything by myself—trying to forget—"

"Forget?" I cut him off. "Forget what, exactly?"

I'd been planning to let him speak, to let the engine rattle off until it sputtered and ran out of gas. When he spoke like that, however—these words, these messages that were all too cryptic for someone as straightforward as Vinny—I knew there was something off.

Vinny's pink face was borderline crimson now. He looked as though all he wanted was to fade from existence, but of course that was a skill he no longer claimed, so he settled for hiding his face beneath his hand. His head tipped forward, pale hair spilled over his fingers, brushing his knuckles. "I'm just trying to forget...what she feels like."

I thought anger was flame and heat and ash, but the rage spreading within me was gelid and crisp, a winter breeze that turned tumbling rivers to stagnant sheets of ice.

It wasn't anything I'd ever felt before, and worst of all, I couldn't seem to make it go away.

Vinny didn't drop his hand. "I'm sorry, Cian. I didn't want to tell you. You're not supposed to know. But...I kissed Lucie, once. And it just keeps eating at me. It was bad enough, but then she was shot, and I can't take a single breath without being reminded of it—"

"You kissed Lucie—my Lucie?"

His hand lowered, but only halfway. "It was the heat of a moment, but yes, I did—"

"You bastard."

Vinny was shaking; so was I, the adrenaline surging within me at an unstoppable rate. A part of me wanted to stop, to take it back, to calm myself. The larger part of me was screaming—wrath, frustration, betrayal. And I just couldn't fight it.

"Cian?" Vinny squeaked.

"I thought you knew better than that," I hissed. "I thought you knew better than to touch her like that, than to go anywhere near her like that."

I rose to my feet, my blood boiling beneath my skin. It was bad enough to think of someone else's hands on her where my hands had been, of someone else's lips where my lips had been, but it was a million times worse to know it had been my brother. I trusted him possibly more than I'd ever trusted anyone, and now, he threw it right back in my face.

I gave in. I gave in to it all.

I seized Vinny's shirt collar; he didn't let out a noise, just eyed me levelly as I shook him, my fist wrinkling the material of his sweater. "You're such a liar, you know that? You act all righteous and innocent, self-sacrificing. You act like you care about me, have the nerve to get mad at me when I do something you don't like. Tell you what, Vince, you don't care. You just don't. Because if you did care, you would have controlled yourself. You wouldn't have touched the one thing life was kind enough to hand to me in this hell I'm living. You don't care, Vinny, you don't care."

"It didn't mean anything!" Vinny fought back. He reached up, clawing at my hand, but I only clenched tighter. "Lucie and I were—are friends. That's all we are. It was a mistake and we both know it."

"Shut up!" I exploded. "You don't know anything! You're just like everyone else, acting like you give everything when all you really know how to do is take. You just—"

I cut off, yanking him forward, then releasing him again. Vinny went careening into the ground, his hands breaking his fall, but not before his back met the edge of one of the living room chairs. He let out a little wheeze, scrambling to get away, but I caught at him. My eyes, both the blind and useful one, were burning, my breath heavy in my chest. My vision beginning to blur, I bit down on my lip, lifting a fist.

Vinny's blue eyes were round, his mouth open in a silent yell. Within his gaze was a livid terror, a human's final stare into the wild eyes of an animal, and then there was realization.

My fist swung down towards his mouth.

Vinny yelped, "Cian!"

The sensation was an odd one. One moment I was nothing but fury, yet the next it had all dissolved, leaving behind a quiet, eerie calm. My hand dropped, my vision clearing, the adrenaline within me draining like water from a high tide. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, or how I'd gotten there.

Vinny was still staring at me, wide-eyed. "Cian? Hey! Are you awake?"

"Possibly?" I answered. I clambered off of him, furling and unfurling my fingers. "Are you hurt? What did I just...what did I just do?"

He sat up, rubbing at his lower back with a subtle wince. "You don't remember? But it was literally five seconds ago."

"No...I...the memories are there, they're just fuzzy," I answered. I staggered to my feet, Vinny eyeing me warily as I did. I didn't like the way my brother was looking at me, like I might topple over if he didn't watch my every, meticulous move. I began to sift through what I knew: Vinny had told me he'd kissed Lucie, and then...

"Oh," I said. I looked at him sadly. "I tried to hurt you."

Vinny shook his head. "But you didn't—because for now, at least, your human side is winning. I just don't know how long we have until it's not anymore."

I swallowed, trying to force down the nausea roiling within me. I looked at my brother for a moment more, his chest still heaving a little as he calmed himself. Then I was there, crushing him against my chest, grasping the fibers of his shirt tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

Vinny seemed stunned, his body rigid in my arms. "Cian?"

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I'd never hurt you like that. I didn't know what I was doing; Vince, you have to believe me—"

He chuckled, separating himself from me. His eyes shone with admiration. "Cian, it's fine. I know that. I just need to know...you're not okay with this, are you? That I kissed her?"

I balanced back against the sofa arm, rubbing my temples. There a subtle thud within my skull, the beginning of a throbbing pain. "Well, I'm not necessarily happy about it, but it's okay, Vince. I just wish you would have told me sooner."

I watched him, but for a long time, Vinny said nothing at all. He just sat there, legs crossed, hands wrapped around his ankles. Though his expression was placid, his shoulders were still quivering, remnants of the fear he must have felt only moments before—fear I had struck in him.

I wasn't going to hurt him. I knew that now.

"I don't know what to do," admitted Vinny morosely. "You're...sick, Lucie's asleep, Dad's gone, and Mom never leaves the parlor except to get something else to drink. I feel like everyone's just slowly drifting away."
"Maybe we are," I said thoughtfully, reaching to place a hand on his shoulder. "But good thing we've got the best anchor."

His eyes found mine, and he chuckled, though it was a dismal sound. "These days, I'm not even anchoring myself."