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  The chain on David’s door rattled, pulled back, and dropped. The dangling piece of metal lightly scraped the inside of the door. She took a staggering step back as the deadbolt clunked, unlocking the door. It opened.

  David stood in front of her, wet and shirtless. Naked from the waist up, he wore jeans that he was buttoning while using his shoulder to open the door. It took much strength to hold her head high; it felt as if she were wearing a helmet made of iron. She studied him through swollen, squinted eyes.

  “Jesus Christ, Amber? Where’s the fire?” he asked, not amused by her appearance or urgency.

  “Damn, David, can’t you answer the door dressed?”

  “If I’d taken any longer to throw on a shirt, you probably would have knocked the door off the hinges.” He quickly threw on his shirt and pushed his arms through the short sleeves.

  She laughed, snorting. Nearly losing her balance, she grabbed the doorframe for support. “D’as true.”

  His angry expression faded to one of disgust. “I hope you didn’t drive here.”

  “Are you kidding? Nope. They took my keys at the bar. So I took a bus and walked the rest of the way…”

  “From the way you look, that must have taken a long time.”

  “W’as that mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  He looked reluctant. This troubled Amber. She must really be a mess. But David wouldn’t throw her out on the street either. She knew she’d be coming inside, and hoped she could at least make herself somewhat tolerable for him.

  Stepping to the side, he held out an arm, as if allowing her entrance into the forbidden fortress.

  “You bessss big brother ever…” Swaying back and forth, she stumbled into the apartment. She flinched at David slamming the door and cupped a hand over her ear. “Jeezzz, loud enough?”

  “Not hardly. Have a seat.”

  She staggered to where the chair had sat for several years. She hadn’t noticed he’d moved it and bent her legs, ready to sit on a chair that was no longer there. Holding one arm out to her, David called out, “Don’t sit there, I moved the chair!!”

  She quickly sprang back up, her fists raised as if ready to throw a punch. Realizing it was only David being vigilant, she laughed. “Whoops. Almost had a tumble.”

  Dragging her feet across the floor, she passed his couch, with plenty of room to sit, and trekked to the chair on the opposite side of the room and collapsed into it. The recliner rocked back so hard, it nearly tumbled over.

  Amber realized David wasn’t impressed. His normally strong sister this weak and frail. Her drinking usually went in three steps: Fun, cranky, and then ridiculous. When she passed phase three, no one wanted to be in her company any longer.

  David took a seat on the couch, angling his hips so he could face her. “What brings you by?”

  “Why don’t you answer your phone…phones…I’ve tried them both.”

  “Just wanted to be alone. Is that too much to ask?”

  She held up her arms as if trying to fend off a confrontation. “It’s cool, no harm no foul, right?” She tilted her head, sticking her nose in the air like an old hound. Sniffing the air, her nose wrinkled as it took in the aromas.

  “What?” asked David.

  “It’s clean.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You did it?”

  “Why is it so hard to believe that I cleaned?”

  “You rarely do. Normally, I have to come over and do it for you.” She fell quiet, grasping what she’d just said and realizing what he’d done. “Why didn’t you call me over to help? I would have rather done that than feeling so sorry for myself at the bar.”

  “I don’t know, Ambs, I just didn’t.”

  She puckered her lips, nodded. “All right, David, I’m going to drop it.”

  “Thank you.”

  From where she sat, she could see directly into the kitchen. David had left the light on. It was just as clean in there as the rest of the place. The bathroom was to the right, but the door was closed. His bedroom, straight across from the bathroom, was dark, but she assumed he’d cleaned in there as well.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

  “Got any beer?”

  He frowned. “No.”

  “Water then.”

  “All right, I’ll make us some water.” He stood up and walked behind the counter into the kitchen. As he took down two glasses, he leaned down to see her. “So, why were you at the bar feeling sorry for yourself?”

  She wasn’t going to lie. “Thinking about Ted.”

  David sighed.

  “I know, you don’t approve.”

  “I don’t approve of how you think about Ted, not the fact that you do think about him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The only time you think about him is when you’ve downed a couple.” He took the ice cube trays from the freezer and bent them. The ice popped as it was freed. He began dropping cubes in the glasses. They clanged loudly.

  “That’s not true.”

  “The hell it isn’t.”

  “It’s really not. I start drinking to help keep me from thinking about him too much. But then it makes me think about him more, in even deeper ways. So I’m screwed either way.”

  David grabbed a jug of water from under the cabinet. He stopped before popping off the cap. “You really miss him, don’t you?”

  She shrugged.

  He poured their water, returned the jug, and came back to the living room, bearing glasses of water. Amber took hers and thanked him.

  “You could call him.”

  Amber almost choked on the water. Did he really just say that?

  “Well, you could.”

  “Whatever.” She gulped down the water, leaving only a pile of cubes behind. She sucked one into her mouth, swished it around, and spat it back into the glass. She felt a little better, but her head was still swimming. “Even if I believed I had your blessing to try and patch things up with him, I’m probably the last one he’d want to hear from.”

  “Never know. Might surprise you.”

  What is this shit? she wondered. Why is he so giggly over me trying to get back with Ted? And something else, he has this look about him like a teenager who’s just lost his virginity. Why is he being so moronic?

  “What’s up with you today?” she had to ask.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying. I mean, look at this place. You cleaned it as if you planned to eat off the floors. You don’t have any beer, and now you’re giving me love advice on Ted?”

  “Just trying to help.”

  “Bullshit. Something’s up.”

  “Does something have to be up for me to try to help you?”

  “Not usually, no, but this time? You better believe it.”

  He laughed. Not his usual chortle, but instead it was more how one would laugh at a joke at someone’s expense. There was a snobby quality to it. She wanted to slap him after hearing it.

  And she’d noticed something else. He wasn’t smoking. The ashtray wasn’t on the coffee table anymore. Usually, it had half a pack worth of discarded butts inside.

  “Why aren’t you smoking? Normally I’m drinking beer, you’re smoking cigarettes and we’re having a good time.”

  “Are we not having a good time now?”

  “Why do you keep doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Answering a question with another question?”

  “Am I?”

  “You just did it again!”

  “Sorry. I’m not meaning to.”

  “So, where are the cigarettes?”

  “Does it matter?” He quickly stuttered over his words after Amber shot him a look that could have hurt him had she angled it better. “I quit smoking, okay?”

  “Quit?”

  “Yep, cold turkey.”<
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  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “What about our pact? I quit drinking, you quit smoking.”

  “Sorry. I just went ahead and did it.”

  Watching him with her mouth gaping, she said nothing.

  “Either you don’t believe me or you’re not happy for me.”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe, I just can’t believe you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, this sudden idea to fully cleanse yourself doesn’t sound like the David I know.”

  He didn’t say anything. Then the true reason behind his sudden change crashed down on her. “You son of a bitch.”

  He recoiled back against the couch. “Whoa, where’d that come from?”

  “You used the goddamn board didn’t you? All this shit you’re doing, this angel told you do it all, didn’t she?”

  He stared at her.

  “We have the same mother, Amber, so calling me that is like calling our mother a—”

  “I know what I said, and I meant it. She gave you that fucking board, and you actually used the thing?”

  “Why do you say that?” He sounded shocked, not because of her tone, but more because she’d actually seen right through him. He was like someone cheating on his spouse and getting caught in the act.

  Amber shook her head. “All this time, I thought you were shacking up with Sam or some dumb bitch you picked up somewhere, but actually, you were in here with that damn board in your lap, getting all wubsy-dubsy over it!! You were using it alone, weren’t you?”

  He didn’t answer, but she knew he had.

  “You know that’s about the dumbest thing you can do? You’re at your most vulnerable when you’re attached to the board by yourself. You’re weak. And plus, your mindset isn’t actually at its strongest right now…”

  “And neither is yours.”

  “Fuck you, David, I’m not trying to insult you. This angel can use you. You’ve made a connection, and you’re playing with fire.”

  “If you’re going to talk like that to me, in my home, then get the hell out! She would never do anything to hurt me! She’s not like all of you, who want to hurt me!”

  “Hurt you? I want to hurt you?” Her face went scarlet with fury. Hands twitching, she tucked them between her legs and clamped her thighs together to hold them still. Her skin felt cool and clammy from old sweat. She wanted to punch him, hell with this slapping bullshit, she wanted to make him hurt for that statement. Her skirt was really short, and she realized she probably looked slutty the way her upper thighs were exposed. She probably should have changed before coming over. She crossed her legs, hoping it would help keep her from lunging at him and kicking him.

  “Just stop. You don’t want to hear anything else.”

  “I think you should try me.” Amber sat up, digging her elbows into her tender thighs. If her skirt wasn’t bad enough, her top sagged, allowing a clear shot straight down to her breasts. A drip of sweat ran down between them. She shivered as it glided across her stomach.

  David took a deep breath before answering her. “I’ve been talking with my angel. The one who saved me that night. She loves me…I love her. She’s been protecting me.”

  Amber felt a chill scurry up her back. The zipper on her jacket was broken, so she folded each side over her chest. Sitting up, she adjusted her top. “Please, explain what you mean by protecting you and all this love bullshit?”

  “If anyone…” He stopped, as if knowing he was saying too much. “She’s just always looking out for me, and one day, I can do the same for her.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Amber’s voice shook. On the verge of tears, she blinked rapidly, hoping to keep them back. “Do you not think I care just as much as some damn imaginary angel?”

  “She’s not—”

  “Shut up…I’m sick of hearing this shit…” As far as she was concerned, she was done with this conversation, and David for that matter. If he wanted to spend so much of his time with a sheet of wood painted all gaudy then, she would let him.

  She stood up too fast.

  She stumbled back, but caught her balance. Something fluffed above her. She tilted her head back, following with her eyes some kind of pattern near the ceiling.

  “What’s wrong, Amber?” asked David.

  “I…I thought I saw…something…” She whipped her head around to look behind her.

  There was a WHACKING sound. Her head jerked back as she spun around to face David once again.

  She held her head as a light stream of blood began trickling down. “Owww…”

  David jumped and ran to help, but was too late. She dropped down to her knees, just out of his reach, and collapsed chest-down onto the floor.

  “Amber? Are you all right?”

  She heard his cries, but only faintly. They faded to nothing as she lost consciousness.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amber tried adjusting her eyes to the blackness, but it appeared to be too difficult a task. The room was shrouded in shadows. Her head ached, throbbing with each individual heartbeat as it pounded in her chest. She rubbed her fingers across the sore spot on her temple. The pain was worse there. She winced upon touching it. A welt had formed, swollen and pulsating.

  Dropping her hand on the bed, she remained on her back, unable to move. Had no desire to, either. Her dry tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She smacked her lips, but the parchedness became even worse.

  She shifted her weight to the side and braced herself on her hip. A sharp, stinging twinge from her stomach caused her to stop trying to roll over. Her insides went taut. She rubbed the focal point of pain, her belly.

  It was soaked. Wet with some unknown liquid.

  Blood?

  Felt like it. Thick and sticky, but how could it have gotten there?

  If that’s what it actually is, she thought.

  She’s taking him…

  Amber jumped at the abrupt voice. It sounded as if it came from out there in the shadows. Looking, all she could identify was the vague, gray shape of a dresser. “Hello?” she asked quietly.

  Soon, they will be one… Together. Bonded by blood and sinning in flesh…

  Amber shuddered. “Who are you?” Unable to force herself to sit up, she gripped the mattress and scrunched her head back against the pillow. Through her grinding teeth, she asked, “Who’s there?”

  There wasn’t an answer.

  I’m dreaming…

  No. Must be a nightmare. One brought on by too much booze.

  She could only wish that was all it had been, but even in her intoxicated state, she knew she was wrong.

  Moving her legs against the sheets, she felt their coolness on her hips and thighs. Confused by this, she released a hand from the firm grip on the sheets and touched a perspiring leg. She rubbed her fingers upward, expecting to brush the tips of her skirt, but instead, she found the small patch of coiled hair between her legs. She flung her hand away and pulled the sheets tighter against her body.

  I’m naked! Why am I naked?

  She’ll never let him go… She’s gone too far to lose him now.

  “Stop talking to me!” she pleaded into the darkness.

  A ruckus began to build in her head, turning into a thunderous drum. She wanted to break her head open and pull out her brain to make it stop. Her body went rigid, shaking all over. Unable to control the quavers and too stiff to move, she was powerless to prevent the images from exploding through her mind in rapid flashes.

  Three silhouettes, each standing on separate pillars. The sky behind them was bleak, darkened with a gloomy blue. A vast backdrop appeared endless behind them. The trio was dressed in garments that at one time had probably been white, but were now smudged in dirt and grime that had altered the wardrobe into a gloomy gray. Hoods cloaked their faces, but their eyes radiated yellow.

  The three of them spoke in rotation, com
pleting each other’s sentences like three bodies that shared one brain.

  We allowed you to see us…

  So we can deliver our admonition…

  You must stop it…

  “Stop what?” she asked. She knew it was her turn to ask. She could feel it. Looking around, she found that she was now kneeling before them. The ground under her was stone, cracked and jagged from end to end. The setting appeared to be the shambles of a place that was once beautiful, left behind and forgotten after a massive war.

  The joining is almost complete…

  They will be one…

  Then two of flesh…

  “Who will be one?” Her voice was high-pitched, almost a whine.

  Help him…

  Stop her…

  She’s taken it beyond repentance…

  It’s unholy…

  Amber’s bowels felt heavy. Her spine tightened as if being strangled by an icy grip. “How can I stop her?”

  They were gone.

  As if the backdrop had been discontinued and replaced, she now stood alone in a vast, open range of nothing.

  Flatness, all around.

  He’s mine.

  Her ears rang from the intensity. This voice was unlike the others, who spoke in harsh whispers, trying to conceal their warnings from an intruding ear. Now the intruder was apparent. Amber was no longer alone in this vacuum.

  He’s mine, it repeated. A female voice. Husky and threatening, it wasn’t issuing a warning.

  It declared a fact.

  Then Amber was back in the bed, locked in place, her arms and legs pinned against the mattress by an invisible force.

  A figure stood at the foot of the bed, wrapped in the dark like a blanket.

  She could not tell who it was. It only watched as she tried to break away from her captivity. Slowly, it shook its head. Amber understood its meaning: Don’t even try, you’re not going anywhere.

  The burning was powerful on her stomach. Not inside it, but on top. The sting was like when she’d cut herself shaving. Annoying, but not terribly painful.

  “Who are you?” asked Amber.

  The intruder tilted its head like a puppy that didn’t understand a command.