The music speaks my soul’s begging to the cold air, begs the calm river, begs the moon—to end this suffering. It keeps flowing, aggressive and fast. My fingers go numb from the cold, but they don’t stop. The pain won’t let them stop. It has finally found its way to scream. It’s tearing through my chest, stealing my breath. I can’t stop even when I can’t breathe.
His memories are everywhere, bright and beautiful. I can’t open my eyes, can’t convince them to see a world where even the hope of salvation doesn’t exist.
The music shifts now, screaming for the end. For my soul to break free from this anguish.To leave my body and find the other half of itself, wherever he is.
Warm hands pull mine away from the keyboard. Cold breath finds my chest.
I open my eyes slowly. Hot tears stream down my cheeks.
Hunter
I hook a finger under my tight collar, failing to ease the suffocation. I don’t thrive in places where people expect me to talk.
Logan chuckles, eyeing me. “You look like a bull wearing a tie for the first time. Relax, bro. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”
“How much longer are we staying?” Frustration threads through my voice.
The work we came for is already done. I’ve planted two ant-sized cameras in the corner just outside this party hall. They’ll stay here for a week before dying. We’ll get enough data through them to move further.
“We still haven’t met Matleon.” He offers me a glass of red wine.
I gulp the contents in one go.
“Show some class, man. Look around.” I don’t. He does, then hisses, “No one else is behaving like you.”
A waiter approaches, extending a tray. I leave the empty glass of red wine and pick up a glass of vodka.
“Don’t drink too much,” Logan warns, disapproval in his tone. “You need to stay of sound mind.”
“I’ll end up killing someone if I stay sound,” I mutter, low and irritated, gulping the burning liquid.
According to Logan, I behave like a lost Romeo when I’m drunk. I don’t know how bad that state is, but it can’t be worse than this. Every time someone approaches me or offers a handshake, my control slips a little more. I fucking hate people touching me.
Logan sighs, but his face breaks into a polite smile as he looks past me. I hand my empty glass to a passing waiter and turn.
Matleon reaches us. He shakes Logan’s hand.
“Nice party.”
“Thanks, Logan.”
He then turns to me. His smile falters as his eyes meet mine, then steadies. He extends his hand. I take it reluctantly, meeting his grip in a firm handshake.
“You must be Hunter Blackwood.”
I nod. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Matleon.”
His smile falters again. He gives me a quick once-over.
“Let me introduce you both to Zloban.”
Logan offers his best smile. I can’t fake one, so my face stays the same.
As Matleon leaves, Logan turns his friendly smile on me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you act normal?” he grits out through the smile.
I clench my jaw. I don’t know why, but after meeting Matleon, the suffocation has multiplied tenfold. I yank at my tie and pop the top button, the worst thing a man can wear is a tie.
“I can’t stay here.”
