I don’t answer. I don’t even roll my eyes. He’s exhausting today. I let him ramble on as I focus on cleaning the blood from my nails.
As I step out of the shower, I glance over my shoulder at the empty stall. It wasn’t long ago that I couldfeelthe need to cleanse the darkness from me. The sin. I’d scrub my skin raw until it bled.
I haven’t felt that in a while. Not since Gracen came into my life.
I bow my head, hiding my smile from Ryan as I dry and dress. He follows me, always there in the back of my mind as I leave the facility in the woods. As I stop at an intersection just beyond the trees, I check my phone. There’s a message from Ellory.
Ellory
We’re at the lake. Join us when you’re finished.
Hm. I wonder who watched me today. Maybe no one. Or maybe he left when I was in the shower. Was he there when I arrived?
I don’t respond, but head for the lake. There are swim trunks in my car, though I rarely put them on. I don’t float on the lake to get wet. I use the quiet and the gentle rocking of the water to add static to my brain. It doesn’t drown Ryan out, but he gets bored quickly at the lake and ends up… nodding off? Is that what happens? Does he fall asleep?
It’s not just Avory, Ellory, and the twins. Imry, Haze, and Amzi are there, too. Uncle Arath, Elgin, and their kids, Xanthus and Okello.
Names are weird in this family. I think they strive to make sure that their kids aren’t victims of being the eighth William in their class. There are some less unusual names like Sawyer, Rosalie, Emerson, and Blake. Lyra, maybe. But for the most part, the Van Doren family has very singular names. They are the only ones around with them.
I also think they set trends. I heard Voss say once that there are a whole lot of people with his and his brothers’ names in the years following their births. As if the world needed to be like the Van Dorens and name their kids after them, like a fanfiction story. It’s kind of funny.
I chose Malin because it’s the name of a villain from the country’s Wild West days. I don’t know why I chose a villain’s name. It’s not a common name, which is one of the reasons I chose it. It fits in as unusual with the Van Dorens.
“Malin!” Xanthus calls. He’s holding a little sand shovel in the air as I approach. The triplets’ boys and Okello are close by, sitting under an umbrella in their swimsuits. All four are in full body suits—the shorts and tee as one piece. Xanthus wears shorts and a long-sleeved swim shirt.
“Hi, Xanthy,” I greet. He jumps up and slaps my hand with his. He always has so much damn energy. I swear, this boy could run circles around all of us for hours without getting tired. His parents take him to the local ice rink three times a week, and he skates for hours in circles, racing around the perimeter, sprinting from one end to the other.
He doesn’t seem to have any interest in hockey like his father played, but he loves to be on the ice.
“Want to go in the water with me?” Xanthus asks.
“Sure.”
“Are you going to swim or float on your bed?”
I laugh. “Bed, huh?”
“You fall asleep on it,” he points out. “That makes it a bed.”
“I see. Would you prefer if I swam with you?”
“Yes!”
“Are you going to abandon me if Dax shows up?”
Xanthus looks toward the cars and then his parents. “Is Dax coming?”
“Dunno,” Arath answers.
“Can you call Uncle Oxley, Dad?”
“Can’t you play with Uncle Malin for a while?”
“No,” he answers. “I need Dax.”
Arath meets my eyes, sighing. Daxton and Xanthus have been inseparable since they were two and three years old, respectively. It’s rare that one is somewhere without the other.
“You had to mention Dax,” Elgin says, laughing.
