Page 8 of Incubus
Sasha Kelly. Park Glen Apartments. Number 312.
Chapter 4
EverythingNathanandJimowned was either on their person or stored in their Veil Slip. Veil Slips were pockets created in the Veil that only those with the correct magical signature could enter. Jim was the key to theirs. Nathan couldn't enter without him, and no one could ever break in. They didn’t keep much there, mostly extra clothing, some weapons, and a few things they had been able to salvage from their family home when they had returned there many years after their parents had been killed.
“This is still so lame,” Nathan huffed, pulling his hand out of his brother's grip after they had passed from Wade's doorway into the Veil Slip. Skin contact was the only way Nathan could follow Jim inside.
“How was traveling through the Veil without me again?” Jim teased.
“Shut up.”
Nathan could admit that at least he didn’t feel like he had been hit by a semi-truck like he had when passing from Illinois to Porthclais alone, but entering the Veil Slip was always a little different than simply using doorways. They werewithinthe Veil. Nathan felt constricted, as if the magic of the place was trying to choke him.
The Veil Slip looked like a simple square room no bigger than a storage locker. Nathan had heard that they could look however the creator wanted, but Jim hadn't been too inventive when he first made it. It was just a room filled with boxes. The only unique part was that it didn't require electricity. The walls glowed with their own natural light.
When they had first stuffed everything they had been able to take from their old house into the tiny room, Nathan had thought the place almost smelled like home. Like their mother maybe. Her lilac soap. Or their father's aftershave. But those scents had long since faded.
“Good thing Wade had those goggles, huh?” Jim said. He moved for one of his boxes on the floor and starting scrounging for extra shirts. "I don't think going to the Veil markets to trade would be a good idea right now."
Nathan peeked in a few of his own boxes, debating trading out any clothing, but didn't feel up to repacking. He was surprised when he looked over and saw Jim loading one of their guns with iron bullets. "You're taking that?" Nathan asked.
"Don't you think we'll need it?" Jim said. "We should bring all of the guns. This isn't life as normal, Nate, when we only have more than one gun on us if something's right on our tail. They'll be hunting us. We need to be ready."
Nathan nodded, but couldn't quite bring himself to move and help Jim gather the other guns. They had two handguns and two shotguns they had acquired over the years, basic weapons with iron bullets and shells. They always had at least one gun withthem, but Nathan had never cared for the weapons. His knife he kept close, but guns made it all feel that much more immediate, like they were suddenly at war.
"Come on, Nate," Jim said, handing Nathan the other handgun.
Nathan took it, along with the other shotgun and extra ammo. Jim smiled in encouragement, but Nathan could only grimace in return. "Yippie ki-yay," he said.
Nathanjoltedthecarto a quick stop behind a typical Soccer Mom minivan that had been consistently staying much more than a car length from the next vehicle ahead. “I hate going urban,” he grumbled.
Nathan and Jim didn’t own a car, but there were very few doorways close to Minneapolis where Wade had said their apparent savior would be today. They had been forced to ‘borrow’ a vehicle from the Sheraden Library parking lot before leaving Pittsburgh.
Normally, Nathan loved No Man’s Land—the nickname people knowledgeable with the Veil had given the Midwest. It was just as supernaturally charged as anywhere else, but the doorways were more spread out, so most fae didn’t venture too deeply into places like Minnesota.
“Look, Nate,” Jim said, “we’re sure about this, right?”
Nathan glanced at his brother. He could admit that it was disconcerting how unchanged Jim seemed after two weeks with the dark fae court. There were so many possibilities of what might have happened to him while he was gone. And yet even Jim's voice was the same, always so full of emotion and not quite as deep as Nathan's.
But then that was what Nathan had wanted. For Jim to be the same.
“You’re the one who wanted to go to Wade in the first place,” Nathan said. “I was fine with leaving the whole thing alone.”
“Would you stop acting like this is no big deal?” Jim snapped. “We've had enough trouble with dark fae always coming afterme. I’m not letting you end up as a slave, Nathan, or worse and have you die on me.” He turned away, twisting his fingers in the fabric of his khakis.
Nathan gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Jim..."
"What does Walter say about all this?"
Nathan's eyes strayed to the rearview mirror and, as expected, Walter was visible in the backseat, like he was just a normal passenger along for the ride.
Brown eyes met Nathan's in the mirror, but Walter didn't say anything. He had made his opinion clear the night before.
"He's pissed I went behind his back and got myself into this mess, but glad you're okay, and glad we're trying to do something about this. Good enough?" Nathan turned to look at Jim, who was still turned away from him. "Hey. Come on. At least my savior is a chick, right?Sasha. I totally call dibs.”
“What?”
“Dibs. If she’s hot,” Nathan amended.
