Aroma ~ A Percabeth Story (ongoing): Book 3 - Percy Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-One ~ ADAM

Chapter Twenty-One
ADAM

"Um..."

I looked up. "Hey." I felt that familiar warm, fuzzy feeling zip through me, but then I saw her face. "Esme?"

She stood in the doorway, but quickly walked over and sat down on the other side of the sofa, a couple of feet between us. Her ash-blonde hair was flowing down the back of her navy t-shirt, which she'd paired with a flannel scarlet overshirt and dark jeans and sneakers. Her green eyes were ringed red.

"Es?"

Quickly, she wiped her eyes. "I'm really sorry, Adam. I didn't know who else to come to. I -" She gulped, before starting to cry again.

"Hey." I slid over and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Es! Don't cry. It's okay, it's -"

"You don't understand," she whispered. She glared at me, and I removed my hand. "Adam, there's - there's this, this voice. In my head. It comes at night."

A chill ran through me. "What voice?"

"I wish I knew," she said. "But it's harsh. Cold. It pretends to be kind. It says it wants me. It wants me and it wants me now. It wants to take me far, far away from here, where the gods and no one else may touch me. What do I do, Adam?"

My heart was thumping hard. "You're not... going to go, are you?"

"The voice wants me." Esme looked confused. "It wants me and Nero, Adam." She paused. "And... and it wants you."

My blood ran cold. "Me?"

"It wants you more than anybody, Adam. It won't rest until it has you. And it thinks, if, if we go, Nero and I... you'll come for us. And it'll have you at last."

"Esme, don't -"

"I... I have to listen to the voice. It says it will protect me."

I jumped to my feet. "Esme, no, don't listen to it! Whoever it is, don't listen to it."

She stood up, too, and took a step closer to me. I noticed she was breathing heavily. Her eyes were aimed at the floor, and all I wanted was to see those green soft irises that made me melt into a pathetic gooey puddle. I hated what she did to me every time I saw her, but I loved it at the same time.

I'd never been loved in my whole life, and after the battle at the BEA institution the Jacksons had taken me in and given me a home. I lived with Esme and my best friend Nero, and their parents, Percy and Annabeth, who treated me like their own child. Percy took me to baseball games, as his own son Nero hated sports, and Annabeth took me grocery shopping because I was strong enough to haul the bags about. I loved being cared about. My own parents hadn't cared about me.

Annabeth had even bought me a whole new wardrobe, and Percy had built me my own shelf in the room I shared with Nero for my budding collection of baseball caps. "Welcome to the family, Adam," he'd said after putting it up. He'd patted me on the shoulder and left.

I was a part of the family. Nero saw me as his brother and best friend. The Jacksons saw me as a nephew, or even a surrogate son. Esme was supposed to see me as a brother.

Maybe she did. But I certainly didn't see her as a sister.

I was so in love with her. I wanted to deny it, fight it, force it away. But it was too hard.

Esme took another step forward and, tentatively, laid a hand on my chest. She slowly looked up. Her eyes appeared to be scarlet. Fear clawed its way up my throat.