Three hours later, and I'm out of the glass cage and into Jake's car. I was glad that I didn't have to be stuck in there for another sixteen hours, but at the same time, I want to be alone and in my own home. Which I can't get both of them because Jake was entering his own garage.
This is one of the quietest, most awkward drives I've had with my brother, and the urge I have to just blame Jake for everything that happened is so strong. But he doesn't give me this magic, or whatever this is that makes me a radioactive hazard, because he had it too.
When he shuts the engine, I quickly get out and find Ethan in the doorway. He immediately pulled me into a hug, and I'm surprised to find tears threatening to roll down my face. "I'm sorry this happen to you."
I take a step back. "Yeah, me too."
"I have some whiskey if you want, or we can find something stronger in the kitchen," He offered as we walked inside the house.
"I think I just want to sleep,"
Without another word, Ethan grabbed my hand and caressed it every so often, and I find myself clinging to it like it's my lifeline. A shred of normalcy I'm familiar with, and I just hope tomorrow I wake up and just chalk it up to one of my top ten nightmares.
"Tell me if you need anything okay?" He said when we get to the bedroom. Never thought I'd be back here so soon, but here we are.
"Ok," I whispered.
"I love you, Mily." Ethan lightly kissed the top of my forehead before leaving.
When I'm finally alone, my knees give out, and I just quietly sob into the floor.
*~*
I can hear some pots and pans clanging, presumably from the kitchen, and when I opened my eyes, I could see the carpet I'm lying on. Quickly realizing that I cried myself to sleep on the floor.
I force myself to stand up and move to the bed. Sighing, feeling how soft it is, and for a second, I feel some peace before my brain decides that last night's memory is not a nightmare. I quickly jumped out of bed and into the bedroom and dry heaved into the sink. Good thing that I haven't eaten anything yet, because I really hate throwing up, and this is just as bad. My eyes watered when the need to throw up was gone, and I had to grip the sink because my knees couldn't support me right now. When I look at the reflection, all I see is a tired face, and I really need a good facial after I'm done with all of this.
I shake my head and try to find my footing, and then it happens. I can hear the crack in the sink before it broke, and I fell with a scream. I can hear thunderous steps that can only come from Jake and Ethan, and all I can see is a broken sink in front of me. I don't even know what happened.
Jake was the first one to reach me. He skidded into the bathroom, eyes wide, hands already out like he was approaching a wounded animal. Ethan followed a heartbeat later, swearing under his breath when he took in the broken porcelain scattered across the floor.
"Emily, don't move," Jake said quickly.
"I don't," My voice came out thin and wrong. I stared at the sink like it had personally betrayed me. "I'm just holding it."
"I know," he said immediately. Too immediately. That word hit harder than the broken ceramic. I know.
Ethan crouched beside me, careful where he placed his knees. "Okay. Hey. You're okay," he said softly. "You're not bleeding."
"I broke the sink," I whispered.
Jake swallowed. "You don't meant to."
"How can someone broke a sink with their bare hands!" I snapped, panic flaring sharp and ugly.
"No," Jake said, then stopped himself. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his palms against his jeans. "I'm sorry."
I laughed. A short, hysterical sound that scraped my throat raw. Ethan reached for my hand, but I pulled it back instinctively, fear screaming through my veins.
"Don't," I said. I can't hurt him too.
That stopped them both.
Jake straightened slightly. "It's okay, monkey."
I sighed and look away. Things are definitely not okay. Ethan helped me up carefully, steering me out of the bathroom while Jake stayed behind to assess the damage. The sound of ceramic crunching under his boots made my skin crawl.
We sat on the edge of the bed, and I folded in on myself, arms wrapped tight around my ribs like I was trying to keep something from leaking out.
"I feel wrong," I said after a long silence. Everything feels too loud. Too sharp. I can hear the fridge humming. The pipes. Their heartbeat.
Ethan's breath stuttered. Jake appeared in the doorway, expression grim but unsurprised.
"That's part of it," he said. "Heightened senses usually come first. They got easier when you can focus on a few things at a time,"
I looked up at him sharply. "You're talking like this is a flu."
Jake's jaw tightened. "I'm talking like someone who survived it."
Something cold settled between us. I turned slowly to Ethan.
"You knew." It wasn't a question. Ethan closed his eyes. I laughed again, softer this time. Hollow. "Of course you did."
"Emily," he started.
"You knew about Jake," I said, voice shaking. "About his… powers. His abilities. You knew, and you never told me."
Ethan looked at Jake, then back at me. His eyes were tired. Apologetic. Steady.
"It wasn't my secret to tell."
"That's bullshit," I snapped. "You're my best friend."
"I'm also his boyfriend," he said gently. "And he was terrified."
Jake flinched at that.
"I didn't want you living your life looking over your shoulder," Jake said. "I wanted you normal. Safe."
"And look how well that worked out," I shot back.
Silence fell heavy and suffocating. I stood abruptly, pacing the room, fingers twitching. The air felt thick, like it was pressing back against me. I want to run back home.
"I write fiction," I said suddenly. "I just want to write, why is that so hard?"
"Emily," Jake said softly. "I'm sorry."
I stopped pacing and looked at him.
"How long?" I asked Ethan.
He hesitated. "Two years."
The room tilted.
"You watched me stress about deadlines, about money, about normal shit, while knowing this?" My voice cracked. "Knowing Jake has the power to freeze water were real?"
"Yes," he said. "And every time you smiled, or complained about writer's block, or made fun of Jake for being overprotective, I thanked God because you're the only thing that is normal in our lives."
Tears finally spilled, hot and unstoppable. "I want to go home."
Jake crossed the room slowly, stopping just short of touching me. "You are. This is your home too."
"This is not normal."
"Yes," he admitted. "I wanted to be normal too. I wanted to come home and not worry about breaking walls or lighting shit on fire when I lost control."
I looked at him then, really looked. At the tension he carried in his shoulders.
"You've been living like this alone," I whispered.
He nodded once. "For a long time."
That hurt worse than everything else. I sank onto the bed, exhausted down to my bones.
"What if this happens again?" I asked quietly. "What if I hurt you?"
Jake's voice softened. "You're not going to hurt us. You have me, okay? I'm still me,"
Ethan moved closer, cautious but determined, and placed his hand over mine. "We'll figure this out," he said. "We love you, Mily. We still are."
I stared at our hands. At how normal they looked and wonder if we can just go back to normal. Jake wipe the tears from my face and kiss me on the forehead. His hand softly caress my head and for a while I let myself enjoy it. But then I feel something shifted in my peripheral and when I turned to look there's this sudden burst of air blowing in the room while all the windows is closed shut.
The light in the room bent inward, warping at the edges, and the furniture nearest the disturbance groaned softly, as if resisting pressure that shouldn't exist. The bookshelf bowed. The lamp rattled. My ears rang, sharp and disorienting. Jake's body moving on instinct, placing himself half a step in front of me.
"Ethan, back," he ordered.
Ethan didn't argue. He pulled me with him, heart hammering under his palm.
Then, a foot stepped out of nothing. Followed by a leg. Then a man emerged fully, as if walking through an invisible curtain that sealed itself behind him with a faint snap of displaced air. The room fell eerily still.
He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a dark coat that looked expensive in a way that didn't follow trends. His hair was dark blond, though his face is smooth but too composed, too sharp. His eyes were a striking gray-blue, calm and assessing, like a storm seen from very far away.
He looked around the room once. Not curious. But familiar. My skin prickled.
Jake's fists clenched. "Who the hell are you?"
The man's gaze slid to him, lingering just a fraction longer than polite. Then, to me. Something in his expression changed. Subtle. Almost imperceptible.
"Emily," he said smoothly.
My breath caught. "What? Who are you?" My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. "Who are you and how did you just, walk in here?"
The man inclined his head slightly, a gesture that felt less like respect and more like acknowledgment.
"Alexander Hightower," he said. "And before you ask, no, this is not a trick, a hallucination, or a side effect of your awakening."
Jake took another step forward. "You didn't answer the second part."
Alexander's lips curved faintly. Not a smile. Something colder.
"I used a gate," he said. "A controlled spatial breach. Perfectly safe."
"That didn't look safe," Ethan shot back.
Alexander finally looked at him, really looked, and something like amusement flickered briefly across his face.
"Safety," he said, "is relative."
My stomach twisted. Every instinct in me screamed wrong. Whoever this man is so frighthening. But somehow I can't feel hostile. He's not threatening. Just powerful. And aware of it.
"You shouldn't be here," Jake said tightly. "Whatever this is, you need to leave. Now."
Alexander didn't move. Instead, he folded his hands behind his back and addressed me again.
"You stabilized faster than expected," he said. "That's impressive."
I stared at him. "Stop talking like you know me."
"I'm sorry," he replied calmly.
The room felt smaller. Heavier.
Jake turned his head slightly toward me, voice low. "Emily, don't listen to him."
Alexander' gaze flicked back to Jake, sharpening. "You always were protective."
That did it. Jake's power flared. I felt it before I saw it. The air thickened, pressure gathering like a storm about to break. The floor vibrated faintly beneath our feet. Ethan swore under his breath and held me as we slowly back towards the nearest exit.
Alexander raised a single hand. Not threatening. Not defensive. The pressure vanished. Just like that. Jake staggered back half a step, shock flashing across his face.
"Ethan get her out of here," Jake growled.
Alexander's expression softened, not kindly, but with something that looked dangerously close to regret. Which can't be true or I just misread it. Nevertheless, this situation is so bizarre.
"I'm not here to fight," he said. "I'm here because the council has noticed you," he said. "And because others will soon know too."
Jake shook his head. "Who?"
Alexander finally smiled then. "Let's make a deal. Meet me at Providence in 7 pm. You can bring the human with you if you want."
The air behind him shimmered again, reality bending inward like a wound reopening. His gaze lingered on me one last time. "We'll speak again."
Then he stepped backward and vanished. The room snapped back into place. The hum of electricity returned. The furniture straightened. The pressure lifted. For a long moment, none of us moved.
Ethan exhaled shakily. "Please tell me you saw that."
Jake nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the empty space where Alexander had stood.
"Yeah," he said.
My hands were shaking.
"Jake," I whispered. "Who was that?"
He turned to me, his face pale, jaw tight. "I don't know," he said.
Whatever that man was, whatever he wanted, it can't be good. I mean what kind of man can just appear out of nowhere and I feel like the only shred or normalcy I have right now is Ethan hugging me when he can feel my whole body trembling.