Chapter 3
Vie
I watched Willow for three days without approaching her. I told myself it was because I wanted to get to know her and plan our reintroduction. The truth wasn’t so polite.
I was scared.
Right now, I could pretend she wouldn’t run screaming at the sight of me. I could weave all kinds of stories where she smiled and welcomed me into her life.
During the day, I lurked near her shop, occasionally slipping in to watch her while I floated against the ceiling. My presence drove off customers, so I limited myself to a few times a day.
I spent my night standing next to her bed, watching her sleep. I knew she couldn’t see me, not in that absolute darkness, but maybe she could sense me. It gave me hope that our connection might go both ways.
“I’ve been looking for you, Vie.”
My favorite brother materialized next to me, dressed in an immaculate suit. I was in my usual dark cargo pants and a new hoodie.
The person walking on the sidewalk behind me wasn’t startled by my brother’s sudden appearance. Unlike the rest of us, he seemed to have a special magic that made people think he’d always been there or never been there. He could appear or disappear anywhere, and no one ever gave him a second look.
We all envied that power.
“Pain,” I greeted him without looking away from Willow’s shop door.
I was a Wraith of Violence, feeding on those who were full of cruelty and brutality. This brother was the Wraith of Pain, feeding off the misery of sickness and death. Unlike the way I fed, which consumed my victims whole, Pain pulled from hospice patients. His feeding gave them relief in their last days. I couldn’t imagine being around dying people all the time, but he thought the way I consumed my victims whole was disgusting.
Each wraith had their favorite food.
“Please try to use my human name,” he admonished me gently.
Every few decades, he picked a human name. He was fussy about these things and because I liked him, I tried to remember.
“Asher,” I said. “Now go away, I’m busy.”
“Busy staring at a door,” Asher commented, moving so he could sit next to me on the short wall that separated the sidewalk from the strip mall parking lot. It was a bright, sunny day, making Asher seem even more pale than normal in contrast. I knew I’d look the same if I wasn’t hiding my face inside my hood.
“Yes, I’m staring at a door,” I agreed. “It’s boring and pointless. Don’t you have a hospice to hang out in?”
Asher sighed. “I can’t feed all the time. Unlike you and Sorrow, I need other stimulation. There is a fascinating exhibit at the museum of contemporary art. Would you like to go with me?”
I snorted. “No.”
Asher liked art, music, books, plays, and anything creative. He believed that creativity was the height of humanity, and it was everyone’s obligation to appreciate it. Occasionally, I’d let him drag me to something, but it always ended the same. He would go on and on about what we’d experienced, and I’d point out how unrealistic it was. He’d get annoyed and call me a philistine. I’d leave, and we wouldn’t see each other for a few years.
I didn’t understand why he kept trying. He probably didn’t either.
“If you don’t want to see the art exhibit, then I guess I’ll join you here,” Asher said, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared intensely at Willow’s shop door. “That is an exceedingly interesting door.”
“You’re being—” I was going to tell Asher how annoying he was being, but the door opened, interrupting my words. The same customer I saw enter an hour ago stepped out, hands full of bags. Behind her was Willow, also carrying many bags.
She followed the woman to a large SUV, then helped her pile everything into the vehicle. She was laughing at something the woman said before waving goodbye and walking back into the store.
Her black hair gleamed in the sun, swinging loosely around her shoulders. Today she was wearing a loose peasant blouse, figure hugging jeans, and sandals.
I adored her collection of tight jeans.
“Ah, I see,” Asher said. “It’s not the door that’s so interesting, but what’s behind the door. She’s very pretty.”
Uncontrollable rage had me turning and grabbing my brother by the throat. Standing up, I lifted him into the air and shook him.
