Darkest, BK 2 of Lightwalkers (completed)

XII

Seth

The doorbell rang again. I could hear Remi's melody, the jazz fully waking me from my sleep. I dragged myself from Jon's bed. I'd stayed up most of the night, picking up and touching things in Jon's room, trying to invoke a vision. All I'd gotten out of it was an even bigger headache than I'd started with.

The doorbell started ringing continuously. Bryson's song grew louder as I got closer to the front door, and it just pissed me off even more.

"What do you want?!" I yelled as I yanked open the door.

Bryson stood on the front step, a deep crease running between his eyebrows. "You weren't answering your phone—"

"It's six in the damn morning," I growled, trying to curb my yelling.

Mrs. Waters from across the street glanced up at us as she walked her little Pomeranian, Princess. I smiled weakly at her and grabbed Bryson by the arm. Dragging him into the house, I shut the door behind him.

"What do you want?" I asked again, but Bryson was staring at Remi, who now stood in the kitchen.

"Morning. I made coffee," Remi said, holding up a mug. His dark hair was wet, the magenta tips almost blood red as they dripped water on to his T-shirt.

I rubbed my face and went to claim a mug before I killed someone. I think the continuous lack of sleep was starting to catch up with me.

"What's he doing here?" Bryson asked carefully.

"He needed a place to crash for a few days. What's the big deal? He's like us." I pulled a mug from the cabinet and filled it with the dark liquid from the coffee pot.

Remi went very still beside me, watching for Bryson's reaction.

"No, he isn't like us, Seth." Bryson followed me into the kitchen. "Do you remember what I said? He's a caster, from a family of casters. That's different than us. We just happen to develop a power or two. Like I said, it's like being in the mafia—you're never free of them."

Remi looked down at his coffee. "Not unless you kill all of them," he said quietly.

I stared at both of them, coffee forgotten in my hand. I rubbed my face again. I must still be asleep. That's it. I took a sip of my coffee and coughed. I'd forgotten to put sugar and creamer in it.

"Bryson, I don't fucking care at the moment, okay? Let's get back to the part about why you're here," I said bitterly, setting down my coffee on the counter to fix it.

Bryson glanced at Remi. "Look, I think it's best if—"

"I'm going back to bed then," I said, and turned to leave.

"Wait, Seth! They've asked me to invite you. To come see them."

Sighing, I took my coffee and left the kitchen. I sank onto the couch in the living room and tried to make my tired brain think.

"They who?"

Bryson took the armchair next to me, but Remi kept his distance and leaned against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Adrian left this morning to return, but they want me to bring you down to meet them."

I set my coffee down. The Order.

Remi straightened and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a buzzing phone and answered it. "Yo," he said, moving back towards my room.

Bryson watched him go. "I don't like that this friend of yours showed up when he did, Seth. He could be looking for information about the Order."

"This isn't just about the Order, Bryson! This is about my brother." I took one shallow breath, and then another, before turning away from him. I rubbed my face. It really was too early for this shit.

"I'm pretty sure the Order will help you find Jon and get him back. But you've got to go to them. Earn their trust. They'll want you to take hold of your position."

Anger rose in me, boiling under the surface of my skin. Earn their trust? Jonathan was still in danger, and I had to earn their trust?

I was about to tell Bryson exactly what he could do with his Order when I saw Remi was standing in the room again. He and Bryson were glaring death at each other. I stood and grabbed my coffee.

"I'm going back to bed. You know where the door is, Bryson."

As I stepped past Remi, he whispered to me, "That was Sam. They've found something."