Reprieval

CHAPTER 1 : Eventually

ADRIAN

The sun rises, beams of light stretching across the cornflower blue sky and painting the horizon a gleaming vibrant yellow. I watch from the porch. Inhaling. Exhaling. My lungs welcome the salty and crisp air. Seagulls fly overhead, squawking, greeting the new day.

I run my thumb over the small white scars that mar my left arm. The lingering marks of what Ashon did to me. It's been three months since he died—killed by the god he worked centuries to free—but the nightmares haven't stopped—I don't think they ever will. It's okay. I'm okay. I'm here in California, here with Marcus. I'm not trapped in the underworld anymore. No matter how terrifying my dreams get, waking up every morning next to him, next to my boyfriend reminds me I'm safe.

"Morning," I say when I hear the soft padding of footsteps coming my way. I know who it is before I turn. Dressed in plaid pyjama bottoms and my shirt—which hangs loose off his shoulders—Marcus steps out onto the porch. His hair is a dishevelled mess, falling clumsily over his forehead and into his eyes (he's growing it out—I like it.)

"Morning," he mumbles, stepping in front of me and placing a kiss on my cheek. "You're up early."

I nod. "Thought I'd catch the sun rise," I say, he smiles and peers past me to the sky.

"I love the sunrises here," he tells me. I agree. It's beautiful. The morning light peeking between the buildings. I could stand here watching the sight for hours. I want to. But the sun is already moving over the city line. I turn to Marcus.

"So," I say, "what's on the agender today?" We've spent every day since arriving to Long Beach sight-seeing. Marcus has wanted to see everything, do everything. We drove up to Los Angeles yesterday, walked down Hollywood boulevard, went up to the Hollywood sign, took a ridiculous amount of pictures.

Marcus shrugs. "I was thinking of taking it easy today," he says. "We could go down to the beach, swim, maybe."

I smile at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "Sounds good," I tell him and kiss him. It's brief. More of a peck.

The beach is a fifteen-minute walk from Marcus' aunt's house. I change into my trunks after breakfast, Marcus does the same. He's waiting by the door when I get downstairs. His swim trucks are green, bright like spring. He still has my shirt hanging off his shoulders. I smile. He smiles back. He's holding a picnic basket in one hand, I notice, and a hand in the other, Lexi's hand.

Lexi is Marcus' six-year-old cousin. An adorable little girl with bright curious Bambi eyes. She's dressed in a lily-white two-piece swimming suit and yellow flip flops. A towel hangs off her small shoulders and she has floaties on both her arms. She beams when she sees me.

"Adri!" she says running into my arms.

"Sunshine." I hoist her up in the air and she giggles. "Are you joining us to the beach?" I ask.

"I hope you don't mind," Zoey says stepping out of the living room. She's an about average height African American woman with braided hair, ebony eyes and pouty lips. She's dressed in a pencil skirt and frilly blouse, not her usual yoga pants and vintage 90's band t-shirt. "I just got called into work,"—she works as a law consultant—"and Jess is out. I just need you to watch her for a couple of hours. I know it's short notice—"

I set Lexi down and wave my hand, cutting her off. "It's no bother at all," I say and mean it. Lexi is a delight.

"Are you sure?" She's grabbing her purse off the coat rack.

I nod. "Of course," Marcus says. Zoey smiles gratefully.

"Thank you," she says, hugs Marcus then me. "Have fun." She crouches in front of Lexi. "Be good." She kisses her forehead, grabs her car keys off the table by the door and then she is gone.

The sun is high above the beach by the time we get there. Lexi is jumping up and down talking without breathing, she's telling me about her favourite episode of 'My Little Pony'. I try listening but only catch half of the rapid words flowing out of her like a flood. Marcus is trying hard not to laugh at me, he's not trying hard enough because by the time we find a spot to lay our towels he tearing up with amusement.

"Fluttershy is my favourite," Lexi goes on, "She can talk to animals. That's so cool. I wish I could talk to animals." She pouts. I giggle.

"And what would you say to them?"

She furrows her brows in thought, pursing her lips then shrugs a moment later. "I don't know," she says bashfully. "What should I tell them?" Her warm brown eyes stare up at me and I swear she looks so cute I could melt. I kneel in front of her.

"You can tell them anything," I look up at Marcus. "You can tell them about your mom, your cousin Marcus and me." Marcus smiles down at me.

"Hey, Lexi." She turns to him. "Wanna swim?" he asks. Lexi nods enthusiastically.

"Let's go," she tugs on his arm. He looks at me and smiles as he stretches out his other hand for me.

"You heard the girl." I take his hand.

Lexi runs for the water, giggling; she stops at the edge of the tide and waits for it to ebb back then chases after it. When it returns she runs back to the sand and it chases after her. She does this repeatedly. I watch her from the water, waves crushing against my back. Marcus is standing next to me, his eyes on the water past me, staring but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. He does this sometimes, phases away like a new moon. I take his hand.

"Hey," I squeeze his fingers. He blinks. "What are thinking?"

He bits his bottom lip before answering me. "Life."

"What about it?"

"I wish it was like this all the time." He slips his hand from mine. "These last few days have been amazing. I wish it could be like this every day. You and me."

"It can be," I tell him. "It will be. After everything we've been through, we deserve this."

He lowers his gazes, running a hand through his soggy dark locks. "I know," he sighs. "But I can't stop feeling like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like any second now Ashon and Geun will be back. It's been three months, I know, if by some messed up twist of fate, they survived they'd have done something by now. I know they're gone. I know that. But..." He sighs again. He's exhausted. Smaller. "I don't know, I'm being silly."

I cup his chin, nudging it until our eyes meet. His storm coloured gaze is rimmed red. He looks like he's about to cry. "You're not silly," I say. "I feel that way all the time. They might be gone but everything they did to us is still here. Lingering. It's going to take longer than three months before we start feeling safe again. But we will, eventually."

He wraps his arms around my waist. "Eventually," he murmurs into my shoulder.