disheveled than the last time Isaac had seen him. His clothes looked as if he’d slept in them, and his face was tired and worn.
“Hey,” he said. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”
They wound up sitting on the couch. Isaac usually loved his apartment, but right now he saw it through Gabriel’s eyes?—the messy piles of books next to the overstuffed shelves, the unwashed dishes in the sink, the clothes spilling out of his closet and across his bedroom floor.
“So, you really live here by yourself,” Gabriel mused, fishing out a worn paperback lodged between two couch cushions and tossing it onto the battered end table. “I’m surprised you can afford it.”
“I can’t,” Isaac said shortly. “I live here for free. The sheriff and the mayor worked out an agreement.”
“Four Paths sure does love its nepotism.”
“And Augusta loves knowing I owe her family something.”
“That checks out.” Gabriel hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. Isaac wondered what he was looking for. “Listen, about the other day?—I wanted to tell you that I meant what I said. I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to us. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the brother you needed.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Isaac couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something off here. He and Gabriel had covered all this already, and his brother wasn’t really the type to keep picking the scabs off old wounds. “But at least you’re here now.”
“Yeah. About that.” Gabriel’s voice lowered. “You know how serious this situation in Four Paths is, right? I’ve been here for ten minutes, and even I can tell everything’s crumbling.”
“Everything’s always crumbling,” Isaac said, shrugging. “That’s just how Four Paths is.”
“This is different.” Gabriel looked at Isaac, his expression deathly serious. “This isn’t the Gray, Isaac. The more this corruption spreads, the more I see how different it is. How dangerous.”
“Of course it’s dangerous,” Isaac said. “That’s why we’re evacuating the town. So we can fight without worrying about everyone else.”
“I’m not staying,” Gabriel said.
Isaac blinked at him. “What?”
“I’m evacuating with the rest of the town, Isaac, and I think you should come with me.”
The words didn’t register at first. They were nonsensical, foolish. Sullivans didn’t hide from a fight?—in fact, they were usually the ones who’d started the fight in the first place. And Isaac wasn’t leaving his friends, his home, to fall to the corruption.
“I’m not running away,” he said, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “And I can’t believe you are. What about your healing powers? Our research?”
“All we’ve found are dead ends and proof of lies,” Gabriel said. “We didn’t ask for this fight, Isaac. It was forced on us, but we can turn it down. We can say no.”
“You’re a coward.” The words came from deep in Isaac’s gut. He watched them hit his brother like a blow, but he didn’t regret them. “You’re right that we didn’t ask for this. But this is our life. Our family. Our responsibility.”
“You don’t understand,” Gabriel said, leaning forward. “Something is coming, Isaac. The corruption is just a symptom. We haven’t even seen the full disease yet.”
Suspicion bloomed in Isaac’s mind. A few days ago, Gabriel had been ready to stand by his side. A few weeks ago, Gabriel had a root crawling under his skin.
“Who told you this?” he asked.
Gabriel averted his eyes. “No one,” he mumbled. “Common sense.”
But Isaac knew he was lying. Something had happened, something to scare Gabriel away. And he wanted to know what.
“I thought you meant it when you said you regretted leaving me after the ritual,” he said. “I was even thinking about why you came here. About letting Mom go. But if you’re running now, then I guess you haven’t changed at all. And I never should have listened to you in the first place.”
Gabriel’s face shuttered. “I’m not running. I’m trying to save your life.”
“Oh, really?” Isaac’s power surged furiously through him, begging for release, but he forced it back. Instead, he kept his words clipped and cold. “Get out of my house. And give me my medallion back. You don’t deserve it.”
Isaac was unsurprised by how quickly Gabriel listened to him. The door slammed shut, and the only proof that he’d ever come back at all was the cracked medallion sitting on the couch cushion. Isaac scooped it up, closed his hand around it, and let his power free, shuddering. In mere moments, it had crumbled to ash.
And now he was all alone again, the only Sullivan left to fight against the rising