3. Piper

Chapter three

Piper

BEFORE

I didn't remember how I got here. There was been a bus, I think… and maybe a truck? I'd been aimless for too long, stealing my way across the country, searching for… something. Someone? They appeared in my dreams as a faceless being made of smoke and rage. Sometimes I would almost see them out of the corner of my eye and end up following them onto a bus, or through a crowd. The tug was tethered in the center of my chest, pulling me toward something I didn't understand.

Where was I now? I looked around, blinking back into the present. I was holding a glass, a pint? That meant a bar. Finishing the last of the beer in the glass, I set in on the nearby table, glancing around me, looking for a mark. My hands had minds of their own, probably more functional than the one in my skull. As a couple of men passed by, I slipped my fingers in the nearest one's pocket and snatched his wallet, quickly tucking it into my own pocket. Not one to linger with stolen goods, I headed for the exit, stumbling into a table on my way out. I guess I had more than one drink here.

The fresh night air greeted me as I stepped outside, the moon casting a glow across the parking lot. I had no clue where I was, and I rarely did anyway. A pang of warning twinged in my chest right as a fist connected with the back of my head. I landed on my knees and dropped into a clumsy roll, popping up further away and whirling around to face my attacker. The face shifted as I tried to focus on it, aging decades as I blinked, trying to stay in the moment. "Give me my fucking wallet, you hippie prick!" he snarled. Oh, shit.

I smiled at him, holding up my hands in defense. "There's been a misunderstanding," I offered, and he swung at me again, catching me in the chin and knocking me back. Arms caught me from behind, pinning me down. I laughed and slammed my head back, feeling something crunch as my skull connected with my attacker's friend. My victory was short-lived as a fist connected with my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. I doubled over and the man slammed me down onto the sidewalk. Pain exploded through my body as two - or maybe three? - of them attacked me ruthlessly.

I rolled over and curled up, protecting the back of my head. As a boot tip caught me in the ribs, I watched a red glow flare up from the shadows beside the bar. "Hey!" someone shouted, and I saw a terrifying demon of a man emerge from the darkness. Smoke pooled off of him, or maybe just off of his cigarette, and the men attacking me were so surprised they actually stopped kicking me for a moment.

"Mind your fucking business and go back inside!" my attacker shouted back. I took this opportunity to shift up to my hands and knees, trying to stand. One of his friends caught me in the back with his boot, dropping me back to the pavement. With my face pressed into the ground, I could only hear the sounds of a bone snapping and a high-pitched shriek. There was some yelling, and a lot of scrambling, and then someone's hand was pulling on my shoulder.

"Come on, can you stand up or what?" the demon barked, yanking me to my feet. The world tilted uncomfortably, and he held me steady as I regained my bearings. I finally caught sight of his face under his ragged gray hood, and his eyes glowed red as time shifted, making me dizzy once more.

He is death; he is fire; he is home.

The whispers surrounded me, showing me a future where the burning man kept me in the present. I saw warmth; I saw pain, and worst, I saw my death. But the tug wouldn't lie. This was the someone I'd been tethered to, I'd been looking for him all along.

"Did they scramble your brains that much, or were you like this before?" he asked coolly, and his hand radiated heat through my shoulder, warming me in the freezing night air.

"I finally found you." I smiled, feeling my lip split. He grimaced, and his hand dropped away from me, leaving me in the cold once again.

"Alright dude, get yourself to a hospital. They fucked you up pretty good," he muttered, and stalked away, heading down the street. I followed him like a puppy, stumbling forward as my body ached from the beating I'd just received. He didn't seem to notice me for the first few blocks, but after a while, he seemed to sense my presence. Spinning around, I saw his eyes flash red in the darkness, like embers flaring in a dying fire.

"Leave me the fuck alone, man, or I'll beat you worse than they did," he snarled, and I hung back, tucking my hands into my thin hoodie to keep them warm. I waited until I nearly lost sight of him before trailing after him once more, letting the tug in my chest lead me forward. I followed him to a rundown apartment building and slipped inside behind him. His apartment was the last one on the third floor. I watched him slip inside and slam the door behind him. When he didn't come back out, I curled up on the floor in front of the stairwell next to a creaky radiator, drifting off to sleep.

A foot connected with my leg, jarring me back into consciousness. I blinked up at the man in front of me, who had smoking holes where his eyes should be. I rubbed a hand over my face and his eyes returned, no longer smoking, but furious. He was in a suit, looking completely different from last night.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You must have a fucking death wish," he snapped, nudging me harder. I groaned and tried to roll over, but my battered body seized up on the hard floor and refused to obey me. I saw his face soften imperceptibly, looking me over carefully. "You don't have anywhere else to go… do you?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look… you can't fucking stay here, man. I have to go meet a potential client. It's really fucking important, alright?" He shifted uncomfortably and swore under his breath.

Hands were under my armpits, hauling me up to my feet, and I lurched forward, letting him guide me to his apartment door. He jimmied the door open and shoved me inside, toward the sad-looking couch along the far wall. "I have nothing worth stealing, so don't fucking try it. Sleep here, don't move, and I'll be back soon," he snapped, tossing me down onto the worn out cushions. I grabbed his wrist, listening as the whispers grew louder, more insistent.

"Mention fishing," I blurted out, feeling fresh blood dripping from my damaged lip. He turned, looking down at me with a scowl.

"What?" he growled, wrenching his hand away from me. I teetered and sagged back onto the couch, watching him shrink into a small, cowering child in front of me.

"Mention fishing to your client. Lie, say it's your favorite thing. Pike, you like pike," I told him, wishing the cowering child would stop staring at me. I couldn't help him. No one could… no one had.

"Get some sleep," he sighed, shaking his head. My eyes were already closing as the door slammed shut, the whispers drowning me as my consciousness fractured and time slipped away from me completely.

Pain woke me up sometime later, and I couldn't tell what kind. Was it the beating I took, or was it hunger? My stomach ached fiercely, and I blinked open my eyes, not recognizing where I was. That was nothing new, though. I rarely knew where I was anymore. I stood up gingerly with my hand out to brace myself against the wall. This building was old. It practically screamed at me with its ghosts. Cain hadn't been living here long, it seems. Wait, who was Cain? Oh right, the demon , the voices named him for me. I limped further into the apartment, finally finding the bathroom.

I didn't recognize the person in the mirror. No really, I didn't. The image in front of me rippled and shifted, my features fading in and out like crappy reception on a TV. I tried to focus harder, to ground myself, but I was too weak and in too much pain. Ignoring the shifting image in front of me, I washed my face and scrubbed some of the dirt and blood off. When I was finished, I dared a glance back up and was finally able to glimpse the pale and bedraggled person I'd become after weeks - was it months? - of wandering. Limping back outside, I tried to make it to the couch, but my foot caught the edge of the coffee table and I landed just short, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

"Jesus Christ, you'd better not have died in my fucking apartment." A voice floated toward me and I groaned, shifting my head to the side to see who was talking. Cain was hovering over me, his tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck. He hauled me up effortlessly and dropped me on the couch, sighing heavily. "When was the last time you ate something?" he asked sharply. I shrugged. I honestly couldn't remember.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, storming off toward the kitchen. I heard cabinets slamming as he rifled around, and I rubbed my face, trying to clear away the cobwebs that were filling my vision. He returned with a glass of water and a protein bar and I took them with shaky hands. He stood in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for me to do something. I took a sip of water and tore open the wrapper of the bar with my teeth, biting off an enormous piece. My stomach clenched, and I realized that I must have been pretty hungry. Cain continued to watch me with a scowl, his eyes dark and stormy.

"How'd you know about the fishing?" he asked suddenly. I swallowed and sipped some more water to wash down the bar.

"I…" I frowned, trying to figure out a way to explain that wouldn't get me thrown out of the warm apartment. "I see… things?" I offered weakly, and he glared at me.

"Like, you've been following me?" he snapped, and I took another bite, thinking quickly.

"No, well, yes. But no, not like that." I sighed, my head ached, and I couldn't think clearly. "I see things." Wiggling my fingers in an attempt at humor, I could hear his teeth grinding together. The whispers around me grew louder, offering me the help only they could.

"Look, I saved you from that ass-kicking because three on one isn't fair, but I swear to god if you jerk me around any more I wi-" he snarled, but I cut him off.

"You're made of fire, Cain. And you don't know why. Your parents worried it was demonic possession until you learned to hide it. You hate water though, it makes you feel weak. That's why he liked to hold your head under water, because he knew it hu-" Cain lifted me fully off the couch, gripping my shirt collar and steaming - literally steaming- mad.

"Who the fuck are you?" he exclaimed, and I could smell my shirt starting to burn in his hands.

"I'm not with him!" I shouted quickly, trying to focus on the whispers. "Really, I'm not. I don't know who he is, just what the whispers said! Please, all I know is that I was supposed to find you. We're tethered." I hit the center of my chest with my protein bar, sending crumbs flying. "You feel it too, right? The tug?" I asked. I was so fucking tired. When had I slept longer than a couple hours?

Cain dropped me roughly, and my water sloshed onto the couch as I landed. "You're fucking insane," he muttered, and I took the opportunity to finish my bar, in case he really did want to beat the shit out of me. "I let a crazy man into my home." He shook his head, raking his hand through his hair.

"You got the client, right?" I asked quietly, and he glared at me, his eyes flashing.

"I… did. Yes," he muttered, and I smiled triumphantly, drinking the rest of my water. My stomach ached, still not full enough to be satisfied.

"I can help you get more clients," I offered quickly, standing and walking over to the cupboard to find more bars. Helping myself to a couple, I shoved two in my pockets before opening a third. I smiled, aware that I was on a microscopically fine line right now. Cain was watching me with open mistrust and contempt, his arms folded over his chest.

"In exchange for what? I don't have money, in case it wasn't obvious," he snapped. I bit into the protein bar, nearly inhaling it now that my hunger was apparent.

"Just… don't kill me?" I offered, grinning weakly. My head was pounding, making the room shift and ripple when I looked around.

"I'm sure you'll manage that all by yourself," he muttered, shaking his head. "Just finish your food and see yourself out. I can't deal with this shit today," he announced, rubbing his face tiredly. I watched him storm off toward his room, slamming the door behind him.

Finishing my bar, I drank another glass or two of water, wishing it was something stronger. I left the glass in the sink and slipped out the front door, closing it behind me. I had no were else to go, so I curled back up in my old spot by the radiator, pulling my hood up over my greasy hair and settling back against the wall. Cain would come around eventually. I just had to be patient. Now that I'd found him, my chest wasn't hurting so much anymore, and the need to wander subsided. I think I can finally rest, at least for a little while.