The Long Way Home

[Legione Sumus]

Liam Wilson

It was eye opening. Knowing what he'd heard now. Knowing that the same guy that had been the downfall of Elyse's relationship with Nox was the same one that ended his with Raffe. It was a thing everyone knew. Nox talked a lot. And this was that guy... Liam couldn't stop staring at Jay. He wondered a lot of things, things he couldn't ever ask. He should never ask. Things he wanted to know but was inappropriate to know, Nox didn't feel anything for him other than brotherly love. Liam was just a kid to him. He wasn't that much younger than Nox but it didn't matter. Nox was responsible for him now and he took it seriously. It was his job. Not a job you hate to do, one you love to do. But still it was obligation more than love.

His wallet beeped. Someone was in Lily's room. Liam tore his eyes from Jay leaning against the wall and looked at the camera, Nox was in there sending a text. And a message popped up on his wallet. "Nox says the car is here, and the kitchen is empty."

[Jay Carpenter]

Jay blinked. A wolf spirit? The hell?

He’d fought men who could rip steel with their minds. But somehow, this... This quiet girl with her golden eyes and too-human pain felt stranger than all of it. Maybe because she hadn’t flung a fireball or punched through a wall. She’d just… tried not to lose control. And somehow that made her realer than any of the rest.

He glanced down at her, small and folded up against the wall like she was trying to vanish into it. The soft glow in her eyes was still there, like coals after a fire. He couldn’t tell if it was beautiful or dangerous. Probably both. Yeah, definitely both.

“Right,” he muttered eventually, still processing. “So wolf spirit lady. That’s a thing.”

He scrubbed the back of his neck, lips quirking in dry amusement. “Shit. Next you’ll be telling me Nox has a vampire in the basement or zombies locked in the attic. Or like… I don’t know, plant people in the kitchen.” Somehow, it didn't really surprise him, and it put the past into a much different context. Had he met someone like her before? Would he have known?

“Anyway,” he added, nodding at her with a hint of awkward charm, “If you ever want to work on your scent tolerance or whatever… I could, I dunno. Leave you a sock.”

He looked to see her reaction. Hoping to catch an amused response or a twitch at the corner of her mouth. “Serious - you say the word. Just one. Nice and used. You can sniff it once a week like a vaccine. Build up an immunity.”

There was something cheeky in his smirk, but it didn’t quite reach full confidence. Not anymore. Not with the swelling in his hand and the emotion of the night starting to settle deeper into his bones. He flexed his fingers, grimaced. Yeah. Probably broken. Then the buzz from his wallet. A message. He didn’t look at it. Didn’t need to. He guessed who it was from. And he didn’t want reply yet.

The teen spoke up about then, informing them a car had arrived. He just murmured a vague "Hmm," in response, unclear whether or not he would actually get in the thing. The air in the house was heavy now. Not with heat or sex or even tension. Just reality. The kind Jay hated. The kind that reminded him why he kept trying to run in the first place.

He climbed to his feet and turned back to the girl. Then he extended his hand (the non-injured one).
“Come on,” he said. “Can’t leave you looking all tragic on the floor.” There was a warmth in the gesture, and he sincerely hoped she would accept it.
"And, uh, I'm Jay"