Chapter Eighteen (Part 2)

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On that note, we decide to call it a day. Or at least, I pay attention to my friends for the first time in about half an hour, and realise they look exhausted and traumatised to the point of near death. Besides, I need to get my head around all this and hear Annabel's take on things. Connor gives me his contact details, and we arrange to meet up tomorrow morning to figure out what the hell is going on, and what we need to do to stop it. I hope Connor has some ideas because I'm clueless.

Once we make base inside the B&B we've booked for the night, Annabel gets her chance to lay her thoughts out on the table.

"Nothing. I've literally got nothing," is the first thing she says once we're alone in my hotel room, and I ask her for some elaboration. "Memories of anything new. Well, that's a bit of a lie. I kind of have some boring kiddie memories of Connor from when we were young--talking about before you were even born here, though."

She crosses her arms with a huff, then manifests herself from the doorway to the end of the bed I'm sitting on. She's not trying to hide her frustration, but I don't think she should be so miffed. Her memories in general are pretty vague, and at least she remembers something more of Connor now.

"He seems cool though, right? Doesn't seem uptight at all, and he might actually be able to sort this shit out for me. And that blesser thing, what's that about? Sounds pretty impressive, if Ava's reaction is anything to go by. A brother. We have a literal brother, how cool is that? And he's alive!"

"One is enough," Annabel mutters.

I roll my eyes. "What's with the attitude?"

She uncrosses her arms. "I didn't turn dark, I wouldn't." She starts muttering again. "He doesn't know what was going through my head."

"Neither do you, mate. You literally don't remember. Clara said there will be some things your mind will block out, things you don't want to remember. Turning dark seems like a pretty good candidate for that."

"I know, but..." Annabel stammers. "Ugh, I just... I don't think it's that simple. Glad you love him so much, though." The last sentence is a sarcastic mumble.

"Wait," I say as I sit up and fight a grin off my face. "Are you jealous? Ha. You're jealous, aren't you?"

"No!" Annabel snaps. "No way. Don't flatter yourself. I just don't get why you feel the need to lick Connor's arse so much."

How can she not see how big of a deal this is? Not only is this guy literally our goddamn brother. I mean, what? But he's alive. He's someone in our family who's alive, and not just family, but a brother. We have a brother, and he's alive. I turn my attention back to Annabel, who's using her telekinesis to mess about with a dressing pillow beside her. He's alive. I guess that's never mattered to her.

"You don't get it," I mutter as I lie flat on the bed.

"Huh?" I hear Annabel say from above me.

"Nothing, don't worry."

Her pale face suddenly appears above me as her hair dangles over my face, inches away from tickling my nose. She stares at me with narrowed eyes. God, the girl isn't half terrifying when she wants to be.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" she demands.

Before I can answer Annabel, a knock on the door saves my arse. Annabel disappears as I jump up, and I open it to see Carmen standing there.

"I'm sorry," we both blurt at the exact same time, then proceed to say, "for what?" in unison.

Now that's impressive. We both laugh, and Carmen asks if she can come in. I gesture towards the bed as an offer to sit down, then realise how grossly inappropriate that could come across, but it's too late and she's already nearing it, so for some idiotic reason, my instinct is to then go ahead and plant myself down onto the carpeted floor. I was clearly right in thinking that was a bizarre thing to do because Carmen gazes at me with raised eyebrows from the bed.

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