Heavy silence isn't anything new between Bryan and me, but right now, it's killing me. It's suffocating, enough that it feels like someone's grabbed my throat and slowly dug their fingers into my flesh.
I take a deep breath, or at least I try. There's a searing pain cutting through my chest that makes it hard to breathe. It feels like my lungs aren't getting enough oxygen, and they're starving. It's almost like a wildfire has been set ablaze in my rib cage. Everything's burning.
Scott, that feeling is in your head. You can breathe just fine. So calm down.
But that crushing feeling doesn't get away, and it certainly doesn't get any better as the seconds pass in silence. The greenhouse is now filled with unsaid words, words that neither of us wants to say aloud. Saying them meant we'll have to face a reality we're not ready to confront just yet.
For crying out loud, I don't want to accept it. It's a reality that shouldn't even be possible to begin with, and yet, there we are, a pair of cursed twins.
Well. No wonder my brother barely reacted to the kids' wriggling food. He'd been expecting it. He knew he'd be seeing demon food tonight, and demon food he saw. What must have troubled him then was how much human-like it had looked, as the cook was getting better at making it less repelling for the human eye, appearance-wise.
I feel a laugh rise in my throat.
This is so fucked up.
"Is everything alright?"
Jordan's worried voice, soft like a whisper, shatters the tense atmosphere, and I finally let out the breath I've been holding in. I lift my head to glance at the door. My husband is standing there, not quite stepping in, but not quite standing outside either. Like a good boy, he's waiting for permission to come inside.
Wait. Wasn't he supposed to work? What is he doing here…?
"Scott…?"
"Don't worry, everything's alright." I force a smile, trying to pretend that, yes, everything's alright. The thing is, there's a tremble in my voice that speaks of another story. But I know Jordan. He won't push the matter.
"If you say so."
He nods, just as expected, wearing an expression that betrays nothing. His face is serenity incarnate, his hazel eyes a calm pool. Only, the shadow of his true form sells him out, letting me know how goddamn worried he actually is. Dude, you worry too much. He always worries too much. I'm fine.
"Anyway, when your brother is done taking your statement, hurry up to the living room." Jordan smiles, his voice steady. "Eve said you're not escaping the drinking contest today. And, well, she also wants to know what your brother is made of."
"Oh, really?" I raise an eyebrow. Using us as excuses to drink, I see. "Did you really fall for it? Your ex-bed partner is a drunkard and just wants to drink till the wee hours. Anyway, it's not even the kids' bedtime yet! She'd better not touch a single drop of alcohol until they're tucked in bed!"
Jordan's answer is a faint grin. I feel my mouth twitch. Eve is already drinking in the living room, isn't she?
For the love of God, that woman…!
I don't have the time to scold Jordan for his oversight, as my dear husband swiftly turns on his heel and flees. But not without glancing over his shoulder one last time. He looks like a puppy kicked to the curb. I swear, he's being overly dramatic—that, or the expression on my face is worse than I thought.
"Is he…" Bryan swallows hard, peeking at me once my husband is out of earshot. His voice is low, and his tone is careful, carrying a hint of hesitation that makes my body stiffen from my head to my toes. "…really worried about you?"
My brother is probing. It's his way to face the truth. He's bringing up something only another Seer would have noticed, as Jordan's human appearance didn't reveal anything. My husband is a good actor, whatever people might say. But at the end of the day, otherworldly beings can't control the shadow of their true forms. It's a reflection of their inner selves that tells Seers everything about them, whether they like it or not.
Jordan is no exception to the rule, patriarch or not. If I could tell he was worried, so could my brother. That is, if he's also a Seer.
"Yeah, Jordan is." I exhale longly. We can no longer lie to ourselves or deny reality. We are both Seers. "Jordan is a worry-cat when it comes to me. It's disconcerting how quickly his ears drop the moment he notices something's off."
"I see…"
Silence falls. Again.
It doesn't last this time, though.
"So," Bryan scoffs, a hint of despair in his voice, "you knew from the beginning what your husband was."
"I knew the moment I walked down the aisle, yeah." I shrug as the memory of the wedding ceremony pops into my mind. I don't think I can ever forget the sight that greeted me that day. Jordan's majestic wings, with warm hues dancing on the black feathers thanks to the candlelight, had been quite the contrast with the church decor, for starters.
If anything, that wedding had been one hell of a shitshow, starting with the groom's real identity. Not that of a lesser demon like expected, but of a patriarch from one of the most secretive species known to hunters.
"Just so you know." I click my tongue and narrow my eyes. "When I saw him standing on the platform, I almost tripped on my feet and let out the most maniacal laugh you can imagine. Miria had no clue whatsoever who my groom was. The lesser demons didn't either. If they had known, I doubt any would have had the guts to keep their heads held high."
A chuckle. Bryan lets out a low but deep chuckle. And I can't help but chuckle, too. We both know how much Miria fucked up with this marriage, and she's clueless.
"But what was a patriarch even doing there to begin with?" my brother sighs, running a hand in his hair once the chuckles die down. He's a lot more relaxed than earlier, and I think he's slowly wrapping his mind around my husband's identity. At the very least, the urgency in his voice is gone. "I can't believe the demon king would willingly allow that to happen. As far as I know, he doesn't like it when his brethren meddle with hunters too much."
Well, duh. Most hunters would rather see demons disappear from the surface of the earth than cohabit with them. So, no shit the demon king isn't fond of us.
"To be honest with you, we actually received news ahead of time that some zealous hunters were planning to ask for a political marriage, but none of us took it seriously. Everyone in my unit was certain the demon king would rather let hell freeze over than agree to an official marriage between his kind and a hunter's clan." Bryan shakes his head. "Guess we were wrong."
I keep quiet, a stiff smile on my lips. I've got my hunch as to how it could happen and why Jordan presented himself as the groom. But I'm not sure that's something I can tell my brother. I'd need to ask Jordan first.
"That side." I change the subject with the subtlety of an elephant, but Bryan doesn't point it out. I can tell he doesn't want to dwell on the matter of us being Seers, either. If we do, we'll have to talk about the past. About how he willingly went on that hunt in my stead, knowing the dangers lying ahead.
That dunce knew there was a basilisk on the team, a team he had met days before the hunt. At the time, I was the one who was supposed to welcome them in our father's absence, but I'd been too busy with the "task" given to me by Miria, so my brother went in my stead. That's when he started to behave like the worst jerk ever and sabotaged my place on the hunt. He made sure I wouldn't go by any means necessary.
I can't believe it took me so long to notice. Slowly, events of the past that made no sense were threaded together, forming a whole. Bryan, being a Seer, explains too many things.
Stop, Scott.
Don't think about it for now.
"We should join Eve in the living room before she's dead drunk," I sigh, "or I fear for our rib cages."
Bryan arches an eyebrow, throwing me a questioning glance. I shrug. I've seen enough of Eve's drunk antics to know how insufferable she can get with one too many. After a certain threshold, she loves to hug people a little too much.
"But, well, if being in the same room as these guys puts you ill at ease, I'd understand, too." I tighten my grip on my arms. "Just tell them something came up with work, and I'll handle the rest."
My brother pinches his lips. A second passes before he says, "Their true forms don't bother you?"
"No, not really." I shook my head. "I'm used to them by now, anyway."
If I think about it, I've never found handling the shadows of their true forms overly difficult. Maybe it's 'cause all that their inner selves have ever shown me is tenderness, if not love, and never anger, contempt, or, then again, loathing.
In my eyes, Miria's appearance, even though human, is far more heinous. Her mere presence makes me recoil in utter disgust, like when you stumble upon a cockroach crawling into your bed.
Just completely, totally sickening.
But Jordan's and Eve's true forms never made me feel that way, and I doubt they ever will.