Page 8 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

“From the restaurant downstairs,” he explained nervously. “Chicken broth to start with, then congee with…” He rummaged in the bag and pulled out another, smaller tub, filled with a violently red mixture. “Extra chili crisp. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

I stared at him, kneeling earnestly by my side, offering up comfort food. Then I burst into tears again.

4

GABRIEL

Iwoke up feeling more rested than I had in days. It was as if something in me had finally allowed itself to settle. Evangeline was still sound asleep next to me, curled into a tight defensive ball, with her back pressed against my chest, and Pothos sprawled on top of her. I brushed her hair out of her face. Cleaning her up last night had revealed the tracery of cuts and bruises across her skin, and even thinking about them had my gut twisting with rage. I wanted to find the people who had left those marks and make them suffer for what they had dared to do.

It had taken her some time to collect herself enough to eat last night, and I hadn’t been inclined to rush her. I held her as she cried, hardly able to believe that I had her back in my life, and murmured comforting nonsense to her until the sobs faded into hiccups. Slowly, between mouthfuls of broth, she’d apologized to me, barely coherent but painfully earnest. Then she’d explained what had happened to her. How the curse my father had struck her with had felt, how it had grown inside of her and strangled her common sense until everything seemed like an attack. About the trap she’d run into and the torture she’d been forced to endure, both at my father’s hands and at those of others.

I had listened in silence, forcing down my growing rage and my anger at myself for not trying harder to find her. Now was not the time for my anger. Instead, I listened, letting her lay out all of the pieces on her own terms and trying to make sense of their scattered order. Finally, she had lapsed into an exhausted silence. It had taken me a while to realize she had fallen asleep still cradled in my arms. What a luxury to be allowed that. What a gift.

I wished I could recognize how I felt about finally seeing Evangeline again as simple, uncomplicated joy, but it wasn’t that straightforward. Guilt bit at me. I should have realized something had happened to her sooner. If I had gone after her on that horrible night, maybe I could have prevented all of this. With the curse, she would have been furious, but at least she would have been safe. I sighed and rubbed a hand over my stinging eyes.

The dark, harsh lines of the magic-suppressing tattoo around her arm stood out starkly against her pale skin, even in the early morning gloom. The markings were ridged, and I wondered if they would flatten and fade with time, or if something in the magic would keep them looking this brutal years from now. The band of the tattoo was bisected by the colorful shapes of the bandages I’d found. On one of them, a bright orange brontosaurus smiled a vacant, toothy grin up at the ceiling. A bit of blood had seeped through and stained the area around the cartoon’s mouth, making its grin more menacing than intended.

I wished desperately that I could stay in that bed, warm and secure with Evangeline pressed against me, but I had a responsibility. I hadn’t protected her before, but at the very least I could care for her now. Regretfully, I eased out of the bed and crept into the kitchen.

Pothos stirred and hopped off the bed to trot after me, pausing every few steps to stretch his massive body. A slightly dusty dish of kibble stood by the kitchen island, and he began to stuff his face, purring to himself.

I glanced around the kitchen, trying to formulate a workable semblance of a plan. Evangeline would probably want coffee, but would that be acceptable for someone who had so recently been deprived of food? I should have read up on human dietary customs. I found a few cans of iced coffee in the fridge and a bit of sliced bread in the freezer. I wasn’t exactly skilled in the kitchen, but I had seen movies, and I was fairly certain that sick people were fed toast and soup. The broth and congee had checked one off the list, so toast was the next step.

The toaster, although initially intimidating, turned out to be easier to use than I had feared. Luckily, Evangeline wasn’t there to see how startled I was when the toast sprang up or I would never have heard the end of it. That Pothos had also jumped was some consolation, but given that he’d been in the middle of cleaning himself, I wasn’t eager to group us together.

Soon, I returned to Evangeline’s bedroom carrying toast, coffee, and water. Pothos wound around my legs as I walked, either out of affection, a desire to trip me, or some inscrutable feline combination of the two. As I set the drinks and toast on the side table, Pothos hopped up onto the bed and immediately claimed the spot I’d vacated. I gave him an unimpressed look, which he returned. I tried to fold myself around the cat to lie down in the sliver of space that remained and wound up halfway out of the bed, forced to brace myself with one leg on the floor.

“You’re very difficult,” I told Pothos. “I hope you know that.”

“Aah,” said Pothos.

“Yes.” I nodded. “I suspected you might already be aware of the fact.”

“Gnhr,” Evangeline added. I wasn’t sure if it was an actual attempt at human speech, but decided the reward of getting to talk to her wasn’t worth the risk of waking her up. As I smoothed the blankets down where they’d ridden up at her shoulders, she rolled over and pressed her face into my chest, and we lay there together. I closed my eyes, trying to think of nothing except the feeling of having Evangeline back in my arms. It felt right in a way that terrified me. I felt more complete with her there with me, and I didn’t know what I would do if I lost her again.

After an unknown time spent drifting comfortably in that soft, warm place between sleep and waking, I felt Evangeline stir and sit up. Her fingers brushed lightly over my face, tracing a path across my cheekbone, my jaw, the shape of my lips. I turned my head to the side just enough to press a kiss to her fingers, opening my eyes to look up at her.

Evangeline stared down at me. Her hair was tangled and filthy, and there was a smear of dried blood at her hairline I’d missed when I’d cleaned her up. She looked exhausted but not pained. The morning light cast a golden glow over her, and she looked like a painting of an angel or perhaps a martyred saint. Radiant, tormented, and deserving of the utmost adoration.

“Good morning,” I murmured, instead of the damning, cloying sentiments that tried to force themselves from my throat. “How do you feel?”

“About as rough as I probably look,” she said. I refrained from commenting. “Did you make me toast?”

“I did. I thought you would need sustenance.”

“Sustenance,” she echoed, lips twitching upward at the corners. “You’re such a dork.”

I shrugged, unrepentant, and Evangeline smiled.

“Pretty cute dork, though.” She leaned down to kiss me before freezing.

“What’s wrong?” Did she have some injury I’d missed? Did she simply no longer wish to kiss me?

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I just realized that it’s been, like, way too long since I brushed my teeth. I… I gotta get cleaned up. I feel super gross.”

“Of course,” I said, pathetically relieved that was the issue. “You should bathe.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Evangeline grumbled.

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