It All Started Here

Chapter Eight

Ethan:

            “Ethan, get up. Something’s happened.”

            The urgency in Roman’s voice cut through the haze of Ethan’s dreams. He bolted upright. Roman stood over his bed. The look on Roman’s pale face was a cross between shock and fear.

            “What is it?” Ethan demanded. “What’s wrong?”

            “Braden’s dead,” Roman whispered.

            “What?”

            “Braden’s dead.”

            Though Roman’s voice was a little louder, it shook from the effort it took to speak.

            “Are you sure?” Ethan asked.

            “Yeah, his roommates found him with a stake in his heart.”

            Ethan shot from the bed. As he pulled clothes from his dresser, he looked around the room and realized he was alone.

            “Where’s Shane?” Ethan asked.

            Roman’s cheeks flushed. “In my room.”

            “Was he with you when you found out about Braden?”

            “Yeah, we were…” Roman dropped his eyes as he let the words trail off.

            “I don’t care what you were doing. I just need to make sure you took care of him.”

            Roman jerked his head up. “What do you mean?”

            “You need to take the memory,” Ethan explained, unable to keep the impatience out of his voice. “We can’t have him knowing what we are.”

            “It’s not just him we have to worry about,” Roman reminded Ethan. “All of Braden’s roommates are human, and they saw him with a stake in his heart.”

            “Shit,” Ethan muttered. “All right look, call Megan and Mina and have them bring Kara to the lounge. I need to see her.”

            “And what are you going to do?”

            “I need to see Saylor and see what he’s going to do about this.”

            “You expect me to let you go alone?”

            “Yeah, I do, and I’m seriously not in the mood for any shit right now so do it.”

            Roman chewed on his lower lip. “Yes, Ethan.”

            “Thank you. I’ll meet you under the stage in fifteen minutes.”

            Roman disappeared, leaving Ethan alone in his room. In the silence, it was difficult to hang on to the control, but he didn’t have a choice. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. Falling apart would be playing right into the murderer’s hands. Ethan had to hold it together.

            Ethan dressed quickly. He brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair. On his way out the door, he stopped by his dresser to grab his cell phone from the charger. There was a new message on his phone. When he opened the message and saw what he’d been sent, the last shred of his self control dissolved. Clutching tight to his phone, he sank to the floor and cried.