Page 88 of The Souls Harvest
“Fine,” he mumbles, disappointed. “I’ve waited longer than ever this time. I can spend a few minutes without seeing her.”
“Days,” I snap.
He cuts me a mischievous look. “Hours is the best I can do.”
We both stumble towards the door at Kris’ back when I grab him by his white shirt’s collar, growling, “We’re not bargaining the fish price at Brenath’s market, for fuck’s sake. This is your life I’m trying to keep safe.”
His gaze doesn’t falter or roam away from mine. He stands his ground, gritting his teeth but keeping his frustration in.
“As you order,” Kris hisses. “One emotional, temperamental brother in the building is more than enough. If we’re done here, I’ll go and hide somewhere in the dark. But don’t blame me if she senses my insubordinate, charming presence and goes looking for me.”
I let go of his shirt, dropping my head. “Get out—before I knock you out to make it easier for everyone.” I dismiss him, pointing at the door and keeping my eyes on the ground to avoid his contagious, unbreakable smile.
“It’s good to have you back, brother,” he says, opening the door behind him but still looking at me. “I promise to remain alive so you can argue with me a little longer.”
The door slams shut, and I stare at it as if Kris is still there. “Good to see you too,” I mumble. Seconds later, my stomachrumbles when the smell of something delicious finds me, travelling from the kitchen through the vents.
But before I can tend to my hunger, I need to ensure July has recovered and is strong enough to face what’s coming—but not fatally strong to kill Kris by harvesting whatever soul that reckless man has left after having cured too many Reds, against mine and Evelyn’s opinion.
I hear no sound when I crack the door open and peer inside. Although more light than when I left is bouncing against the walls, turning them whiter than they are, and casting an ethereal hue over July’s silhouette.
“Sof, how long have you been awake for?” I ask quietly, so as not to scare her.
She’s sitting on the edge of the cot, facing the window. Her hair has become untied in her sleep, wrapping around her shoulders like a dark halo.
If she’s heard me, she doesn’t show it. So I walk in, closing the door behind me. “Can we talk?”
The room smells of lavender and sugar. On the bedside table rests a tray with a half-eaten slice of cake and a steaming teapot.
“Are you not hungry?”Please, talk to me.
Her shoulders shudder. I grab a blanket from the chest of drawers by the door and rush to her. But when the soft fabric grazes her naked arms, she stands up and backs away from me.
“Don’t…I’m fine, but still shaken.” Her voice is so weak, so distant.
“Of course. Last night wasn’t easy for anyone.” I move slowly, giving her enough time to feel comfortable around me.
But she moves to the window, facing Mack’s artificial orchard, and distractedly runs a finger up and down the glass. “What happened to Sector 43? This is not how I remembered it.”
I wait to see if she’s willing to look at me, but she remains immobile.
“Last time you were here, this part of Horigos was still free land. They, the people who attacked us, were still confined beyond Cleryce’s mountains in the northernmost part of The Mother. But that was…a while ago.”
Shooting me a glare over her shoulder, she finally turns. “Why do you all keep calling themthey?With or without Roden’s involvement, Herionos attacked us in Libera. You’ve mentioned them. What’s the point of pretending they don’t exist?”
I know her words are meant to hurt me, but her voice is so cold she doesn’t sound likemyJuly.
I drop my head, moving a few more tentative steps towards her. “It’s not that easy. Not all the Herionos are despicable like Roden likes to depict them.”
“Nothing is easy. It looks like nobody appreciates simplicity anymore…” She sighs, curling her fingers into fists at her side.
I’m expecting her to burst into anything: laughing, crying, shouting... For her to run away even. But she just stands by the oval window, staring at me as if my words never actually reached her.
“How much do you know about this man that Roden wants so desperately gone for good?” She asks, tilting her head.
At this point, I have no reason to pretend. I can only try to contain the damage.
I approach the window, and she doesn’t move away this time.
