Evil - Tijan Page 0,37

I felt like they, alone, were trying to give me a message that I couldn’t receive.

“Did you take your paintings, or did he?”

He flashed a smile. His teeth were perfectly white, blinding. “I did.” Then he laughed softly. “You thought he did, didn’t you? I will admit that I only took them because I knew eventually he would. Then he’d interrogate your teacher and find out more than I would want him to know.”

“Like what?” My lips were so dry.

“How long I’ve been here. How long I’ve known what he’s doing. Your brother knew it was only a matter of time before I stepped forward. He knew it was coming. You are, after all, part of me, too.”

“Part of you? What do you mean?”

“You come from a messenger, Shay. I know he already told you. Did he tell you which one?”

“Why would it matter? Aren’t they the same?”

“A demon is a demon. The same as messengers—I can see why you’d assume, but messengers are special. They have special gifts that run through their blood. Your father is important.”

“Is?” My father was alive? I kept forgetting about the parentage…about the parents I never saw at home. “Do I share the same mother as the rest?”

“The rest of your siblings?”

I nodded.

He frowned for a second and then nodded. “You have the same mother… It’s the only reason why you were born to them.”

I could sense he wasn’t saying everything. He chose his words carefully, too carefully. I frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitated. “Your father will be coming to town. Too much has happened here. The Braden twins have done too much damage. They must pay. You can tell Kellan it won’t matter if he makes everything how it was, if he erases their mistakes. He couldn’t erase Leah’s parents. He didn’t have enough in him to do that. He didn’t have you with him, so he altered her life story. That’s much easier than actually bringing the dead back to life. She would’ve been fine after you left her. She would’ve buried the memory of her parents and gone on to college, knowing they were okay and away from her for some reason. She would’ve been a nurse or a teacher. Now, she has baggage that she can’t live with from the foster system, the mistakes that were made by social workers. She’ll kill herself before the end of the year. He did that.” He reached for the door and then stopped suddenly. “He did that for them. Not you. He didn’t change anything for you, just them. And you might want to ask him about who his parents are. It seems to be the biggest lie he’s told you so far.”

I had bent my head, listening to him. Now, it snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

“The only real Bradens in your household are Giuseppa and Vespar, the twins.” Then he got out of the car. By the time I clambered out my door, he had already vanished.

I stood there, half out of my car, frozen in shock. Had that just happened? Had he really showed up and turned everything upside down? Then I thought about what he said, and everything started to burn in me. He was right about Kellan. My brother—or not brother now—was the best I’d seen, too. His power reverberated out of him. He was a walking, living, breathing weapon, and I’d fallen for his hook. I’d slept with him, comforted him, trusted him. And now I was furious.

I turned my car around and sped back to the house. With a quick sweep of the house, I knew he wasn’t there. Then I headed toward the river and found Vespar and Gus swimming around, laughing. They shut up as soon as they saw me walk down the bank and to the edge.

“What is it?” Vespar asked, cautious.

“Kellan!” I yelled and then turned around with my arms spread wide. “Where are you? You said you were coming down here, to watch them. You wanted to follow them. Where are you? Come out and face me. I know you can smell him on me.”

Vespar and Gus swam to the bank. As he roughly pulled his shirt over his face, Vespar demanded, “What did you say? He was coming to watch us?”

I ignored him. “Come on out, brother—are you my brother? Are you our brother?”

Then Kellan appeared. He stood at the top of the bank, looking down on us. Furious. And yet, he was so still. It was