The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3) (2 page)

It Makes More Sense If You Don’t Think About It

Wednesday, October 31st

PATRICK

I
walked up in a whirlwind
of dead leaves to find Travis sitting on the sculpture plinth on the south end of The Embassy steps. His red All Star high-tops tapping out a rhythm against the stone to the music pumping through his ear-buds. The older brother I hadn’t even known I’d had until five months ago. Though looking at us, I wasn’t terribly surprised that no one had figured it out. Being that the only physical similarity Travis and me shared in common was a similar face shape and our mother’s black-blue eyes.

I stood there for a solid three minutes—as he twirled a light-silver, clunky, pen-like device around, periodically pressing some button that made a blue light on the end of it light up—before he noticed I was there. When he finally looked down and saw me he jerked his head back, and slipped his hand into the pocket of his long brown trench coat. Which meant even though he had been sitting here, his mind had been somewhere else altogether. Probably inventing some new vomit-inducing door alarm or alcohol-dispensing robotic Roomba.

“Hey, Patrick. You get it?” he asked as he pulled the ear-buds out, and jumped down from the plinth.

I thrust the orange plastic pumpkin candy pail at him. “They really aren’t
that
hard to find, you know.”

He slipped the silver gods-only-know-what into a different coat pocket and took the pumpkin from me. “I can’t believe they still make these,” he said in gleeful awe as he held the plastic pumpkin out in front of him.

“Of
course
they still make them. The roaches will need
something
to hide their Twinkies in after the nuclear apocalypse,” I said with a sigh as I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the stone plinth.

Travis lowered the pumpkin slowly as he looked over at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled as I crushed a dead leaf with the toe of my
waraji
sandal.

“You know when you say that, I don’t believe you in the least, right?” Travis pointed out as he leaned against the stone wall of the plinth next to me, twirling the pumpkin pail on his finger.

I sighed in exasperation. He
always
knew when it was a bad day. I mean sure,
all
my days had been shitty since, well… Well, for a while. But he seemed to know—without me saying anything—when things were
really
bad. When I was in a really dark place. Almost like he could read my emotions like a book. And then I realized that
of course
he could. Because he was an empath, like Shawn, if only just a bit. Which also meant there was no fucking point in lying to him.

“I saw a Kakodaemon on the street today,” I admitted without looking at him.

“
When
?” Travis asked as he stopped twirling the candy pail.

“On my way back here from the store,” I said as I gestured toward the direction I had come from. “She ran away from me, like she was afraid. Like
I
was a monster.”

Travis sighed heavily and was about to run his hand back through his hair, but stopped just short. “Well to them, we more or less
are
.”

“What?”

“I hate to admit it, but technically speaking, not all Kakodaemons are
bad
. They just play by a different set of rules than we do,” he stated as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his long brown coat, the pail now slung around his wrist like a bracelet. “Basically from what I gather, us and them have been in a whole complicated, frakked up mess as far back as anyone knows.”

I looked out at the bustling street in front of us before I looked down and continued to grind the dead leaf into dust. “She also said something—in Daemotic.”

“Do you remember it?”

“
Amurai suna Kalo
,” I repeated, the words not feeling as foreign as they should have on my tongue.

“Figures, you
do
sorta look like one,” Travis replied with a snort.

“Look like one
what
? What does ‘
Amurai suna Kalo
’ mean?” I asked as I jerked my head back up to look at him.

“Warrior of Kalo.”

“Why would she think I was—?” I looked down at my costume and stopped. I was dressed in a black kimono top and
hakama
pants with a second white kimono peeking out and a long white silken
obi
sash. Black was the color the Protectorate officers wore. I might have been cosplaying a different type of warrior, but it was a warrior just the same.

“‘They are the protectors of the people, the harbingers of death. The things you tell your children protect them while they sleep. The things you hope never come for you,’” Travis recited in a sing-song voice the same way someone would recite a nursery rhyme.

“What’s that?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

“The poem of the Amurai,” Travis said as he looked out at the street again, the edge of his coat flapping in the breeze created by the tall buildings and traffic. Eventually, he looked back at me and cocked his head to one side. “What are you dressed as, anyway?” Travis asked as he looked me over assessingly.

“I’m a Soul Reaper.” Travis looked at me blankly and I sighed. “From the anime
Bleach
.”

“Why would someone name an anime—” he started and then cut off with an exasperated huff. “Wait, you know what, never mind,” Travis said as he put his hands up. “I have given up trying to understand those things.”

I looked him over with equal skepticism. Besides the red All Stars and the long brown trench coat, he was wearing a dark-blue pinstriped suit and the only tie I had ever seen him wear. “Well, what are
you
supposed to be?”

“The Doctor of course,” Travis replied with a smug, crooked grin.

I narrowed my eyes at him in thought. “That’s from that TV show you’re always watching, right?”

“Yep. Whovians for the win!” he stated proudly with an even larger grin.

“How did you even get your hair to stick up like that?” I asked as I poked at the edge of his hair. I had tried to make mine stick up like that once for a cosplay, but it hadn’t quite worked out. And by “hadn’t quite worked out” I mean it was a fucking disaster.

“Patience, skill, and a lot of hair gel,” Travis replied with a triumphant grin.

“
Really
? ‘Cause it looks more like you got in a fight with a weed-whacker and some glue,” I said with a hint of a smile.

Travis opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a female voice. “Mr. Centrina?”

We both turned. Travis because it was
actually
his last name, and me because I remembered a little too late that I wasn’t a Centrina anymore.

A female daemon—that looked to be about twenty-five at best—had stopped on the top landing of the front steps, a collection of children behind her.

“You
are
Mr. Centrina, right?” she asked as she looked Travis over uncertainly.

“Big brothers!” Chan-rin shouted gleefully as she ran down the steps toward us. When she reached us, she threw the arm not currently clutching her purple stuffed rabbit Nikko, around Travis, barely reaching his hips.

I just gaped open-mouthed and wide-eyed at her “costume.” Chan-rin was wearing a Viking helmet, a periwinkle tutu, a red superhero cape, a pair of fairy wings, and what I was pretty sure was a set of purple bunny pajamas.

Chan-rin
, the voice whispered again, with a sad, tragic sort of longing coating the name. A sadness that I didn’t quite feel myself.

When Chan-rin finally released Travis, he crouched down in front of her. “Hey, Chan-rin, look what Aku got you,” he said with an equally large grin as he presented the orange pumpkin candy pail to her.

“Yay!” she said, clapping her hands together, and then she stopped. “What is it, Big-Big Brother?”

“Why don’t I let Aku explain it to you while I go talk to Ms. Cowens.”

“Okay, Big-Big Brother!” Chan-rin said cheerfully before bounding over to me.

Aku
was what Chan-rin had known me as while we had spent our time in the Kakodemoss facility. And even though it dredged up bad memories and pain, I still let her use the name. Mainly because I didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t
actually
my real name.

“They didn’t have a candy pail small enough for Nikko, so you’ll just have to share, okay, Chan-rin?” I said as I patted the head of the stuffed purple rabbit she never let out of her sight.

“Chan-rin can share. Chan-rin is good at sharing!” Chan-rin replied good-naturedly, her eyes turning into happy curved slits.

I crouched down so I was on her level, and pointed at the pumpkin. “So how this works, basically, is we go door to door and you say ‘trick-or-treat’ and people will give you candy.”

“Chan-rin says ‘trick-or-treat’ and they will give Chan-rin candy?” she repeated uncertainly.

I sighed, a wry smile spreading across my lips. When you had to explain it, the whole modern idea of Halloween
did
sound a bit ridiculous. “It will make much more sense when we get to the mall and you see all the other kids doing it, Chan-rin, trust me.”

“Chan-rin has always trusted Aku,” Chan-rin stated firmly, the seriousness in her eyes seeming much older than eight.

I will protect you always, Chan-rin. Never doubt that
, the voice whispered again.

I swallowed down the heavy feelings in my chest. “I just hope that pail is big enough for all the candy you’re gonna get,” I said around sudden lump in my throat.

Chan-rin cocked her head to the side in confusion before she looked down at the candy pail again. She stared at the plastic pumpkin deep in thought for a moment as if it might possess some strange candy-granting magical powers before she looked back at me with an excited grin. She might not have understood the concept of Halloween, but she did understand the concept of candy being something good.

I smiled at her conspiratorially. “When I was your age I got so much candy, I didn’t run out until—”

A sick feeling hit me hard in the chest, stealing my breath. I had been
two
when the Kakodemoss had taken me. Which meant that every memory I had of trick-or-treating was a lie.

Every.

Single.

One.

If You Could Be Anything

Wednesday, October 31st

NUALLA

O
kay, maybe the skirt
was
a little too short, I admitted to myself as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had leaned over to finish tying the thick ribbons on my sleek black over-the-knee boots and the black shredded tutu had risen up to reveal the curve of my butt. In my defense, I
was
wearing thick white tights, but really, they weren’t doing anything to hide the fact that I was wearing a thong.

I stood back up, and pushed the black feathered mask down my forehead into place with a huff. Well, fuck it, it was too late to change my mind now.

I grabbed my stuffed gray cat off the shelf and flopped down onto my huge bed like I was about to make a snow angel. Though in these boots laced up like pointe shoes, a black corset, and this apparently way damn indecent skirt, I looked anything but an angel.

We were going to Happy Hallow After, a fairytale themed Halloween rave party at the Glass Dragon that we had bought tickets to months ago. That the
five
of us had purchased tickets to. That only
three
of us were going to because Travis and Patrick, well…they weren’t coming.

Wrapping my arms around the stuffed cat, I stared up at the painting. The one Patrick had given me for my birthday. The one that was still hanging from the ceiling above the bed, because I hadn’t been able to bring myself to take it down yet. And not just because it was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But because I was afraid to admit that—

My eyes started to sting, threatening tears. With a grunt of anguish I threw the stuffed gray cat across the room so it slammed into the closet door, and rolled over into a ball on my side. I wasn’t going to cry, not again, not right now.

Part of me wanted him back so badly that every breath hurt. But the other half wanted to forget I had ever even met him. Because it would be easier. Because then I wouldn’t be broken inside anymore.

With a huff, I rolled over and landed on my feet, raising my chin defiantly. “You can do this. You
have
to do this,” I said to myself on a heavy breath. “Galatheas never accept defeat.” And I walked out of my room, head held high.

I had nearly gotten so good at pretending that everything was okay that I almost fooled myself.

Almost.

“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road,” I said on my way down the stairs, slipping a black winged backpack on as I went.

I jumped off the second to last step so I landed with a flounce on the wooden foyer floor of my family’s elaborate Victorian estate. The four-story Victorian might have been enormous by San Francisco standards, but I knew every inch of it by heart.

My cousin Nikki just gaped at me, her mouth hanging open and her eyebrows arched. Her normal blond A-line bob hidden beneath an equally blond braided wig that reached down to her knees.

“What?” I asked suspiciously.

“I think that is quite possibly the shortest thing you have
ever
walked out of this house wearing,” Nikki said as she eyed my outfit.

“And who’s gonna stop me?” I countered harshly as I threw my arms out, and gestured around the seemingly empty foyer.

The answer? No one. Because Alex was at an undisclosed location for an international summit, and Loraly barely came out of their room. And even though I knew our estate was under constant Protectorate surveillance, they weren’t about to see my choice of outfit as anything to be concerned about.

“Okay, so I figured we’d stop at Mel’s before we headed to the—” Shawn said as he came through the front door and stopped dead. His eyebrows shooting up so far that they hid under the edge of his wavy blond hair. “Holy
shit
, Nualla! You look like you walked out of a highly inappropriate movie.”

“It’s called
porn
, Shawn. Say it with me,
p-o-r-n
porn,” I said teasingly as I slung my coat over my arm.

Shawn turned an unbelievably brilliant shade of red and I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Which was also probably the only smile I’d even remotely cracked in about two months.

“And besides, what are
you
watching that has ‘inappropriately’ dressed ballerinas?” I asked smugly.

“I…uh…” Shawn babbled uneasily before Nikki cut in.

“I thought the rave was
fairytale
themed. What fairytale has ballerinas?” she asked dubiously as she slipped on her own coat.

“Swan Lake.”

“That’s a
ballet
,” Nikki pointed out as she put her hand on the hip of her slightly more appropriately long Rapunzel costume.

“That was based on a Russian fairytale,” I countered as I folded my arms under my chest.

“Okay you two, who’s driving?” Shawn asked abruptly, changing the subject.

“No one, we’re taking a taxi,” I answered as I passed by him and reached for the door. “If any one of us can still stand at the end of the night, we’ll be lucky.”

“Actually, I have to go through an assessment test tomorrow so—” I glared at him. “Never mind, your plan sounds great,” Shawn amended quickly, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Brilliant!” I said, stepping through the door and out into the fading light of dusk.

It would be nice to disappear for a while. To be just a face in the crowd. To be no one—if only for a night.

PATRICK

I
leaned toward Travis and said
out of the side of my mouth, “What on
earth
is Chan-rin supposed to be?”

“I don’t know, Viking fairy princess?” he answered with a shrug. The three of us—Travis, Connor, and me—were standing near the wall as Chan-rin and Connor’s little sister Bianca—who he “lovingly” referred to as Binca—waited with the group of other kids to receive their candy from one of the shops in the Japantown Mall.

“Where did she even
get
all that stuff?” I asked as I looked back at Chan-rin’s Halloween travesty of a costume.

“I didn’t have time to go costume shopping with her,
okay
? So I just ordered a box of stuff and had it delivered to her so she could pick what she liked. How was
I
supposed to know she’d wear them all!” Travis snapped back defensively.

“She’s an eight-year-old girl with no concept of what Halloween is; what were you expecting?!” I countered indignantly.

“Hey, she’s having
fun,
right? Mission accomplished,” Travis grumbled as he shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets.

“Watching the two of you argue is hilarious as fuck,” Connor snorted before pressing his lips to the straw of his bubble tea again. “But as much as I hate to admit it, I kinda have to agree with Travis,” Connor continued as he leaned against the wall next to us, forcing his yellow-lensed glasses up and over his dreads. The dark rich color of his skin making his floor-length red coat that much brighter.

“Oh
really
?” I said dubiously as I looked up at him. Which was pretty far considering he was 6'4" and I was 5'9" on a good day.

“Hey, just hear me out, okay?” Connor said as he pointed his drink at me. “Remember two years ago when Binca couldn’t decide between being a zebra, a lion, or a ballerina? And so when my mom asked her what she wanted to be, she said
all of them
? Well, she might have looked like a circus threw up, but she
loved
that costume. And isn’t that the fucking point of this whole damn holiday in the first place?”

I opened my mouth to argue before I realized he was right. It might not have been the
real
reason Halloween existed, but it was for me at least, and he knew it.

I let out a defeated sigh, and leaned against the wall next to him. “Well, at least she seems to have gotten the hang of this all.”

It had only taken a few stops for Chan-rin to get the process of trick-or-treating down pat. Right after she had realized that asking in Daemotic wasn’t going to result in her getting anything other than confused looks.

“Well at least
she
has a good excuse for not getting it. I’m not sure
what
the hell’s wrong with half these other kids,” Travis said as he eyed the groups of small kids and their parents that were moving through the Japantown Mall in costumed herds. “Seems like an easy enough concept. Step one: walk to door. Step two: say three words. Step three: get candy. Step four: Repeat,” he continued sarcastically as he gesturing with his hands for each of the steps.

“Not
everyone’s
a genius like you, Travis,” I said, rolling my eyes at him.

“Was that a compliment or an insult?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“Both,” Connor and I answered in unison.

Travis took a swipe at us, but we both dodged easily out of his reach.

“Just wait until you’re asleep, little brother, just wait,” Travis threatened under his breath.

“Just try it,” I countered with a slightly amused grin.

“Why are you in such a grumpy mood anyways, Patrick? I thought Halloween was your favorite holiday?” Connor asked with a cocked eyebrow. And maybe I was wrong, but I could have sworn I saw Travis making warning gestures as Connor asked it.

I couldn’t help the scowl that spread across my face like a dark shadow. “Because I realized every Halloween memory I have, including possibly the ones involving
you,
are a flat-out fucking lie,” I stated flatly.

Connor’s black-brown eyes went wide and he choked on his drink. “
Oh!
” Then an uneasy grimace spread across his face as what I had said really set in. “Lame…”

“Yep.” I let the scowl slip from my face to be replaced with the best smile I could muster as Chan-rin and Bianca bounded up to us.

“Chan-rin likes this Halloween!” she announced gleefully as she proudly held out her pumpkin pail.

I crouched down, and peered into Chan-rin’s nearly-full pail. “Wow, that’s quite a haul you’ve got there, Chan-rin. Do you want to empty some of it into my backpack so it’s not so heavy?”

“It is not too heavy for Chan-rin,” she countered with a slight pout.

“Okay, but when it is, you let me know, alright?”

“’Kay, Big Brother!” Chan-rin chirped. It was unfailingly adorable that in the short time she had been around us, she had already adopted some of our phrasing into her vernacular.

With a true smile sliding across my lips I looked over at Bianca’s equally full pail. The first few minutes had been more than awkward, but now her and Chan-rin seemed to be thick as thieves. “Is yours too heavy, Bianca?”

“No,” she replied with childish defiance as she raised her chin a tiny bit.

“Okay, then.” She continued to look at me oddly, her head cocking slightly to one side. “What is it Bianca?” I asked self-consciously as I shifted my weight.

“Your horns are longer.”