Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I chuckle softly. “Yeah, sometimes they can. I’m not going to be able to kill him, Mabel. He was locked up for a reason.”
“Yeah, but you have your hunter brothers on your side.”
“And my coven has magic.” I turn my head, looking at her, hoping she realizes I’m not trying to argue for the sake of being difficult. I’m being realistic. “If they could’ve killed him, they would have.”
“Well, let’s stick to what we know,” Mabel says and lies down next to me. “We know he was in prison. We know he was put in there once, so we know he can be put back again. We don’t know how many witches it took to put him in there, and we don’t know the extent of those witches’ demon-hunting skills.”
“Stop being logical and let me wallow.”
“Okay.” She nods her head. “This sucks. We’re all gonna die, so we might as well just walk into the sun tomorrow. Well, wait. I’ll walk into the sun. You do whatever your preferred form of suicide is.”
My expression blanks and I blink several times. “Okay, don’t let me wallow.”
Mabel links her fingers through mine and just lies there in silence with me for a few moments. The fact that she’s so kind and patient and understanding, like a friend should be, makes me emotional.
And the fact that it makes me emotional is pathetic.
Having a friend like this is a foreign concept not only to me, but to a lot of people in the Order. We’re taught that human relationships and getting close to people are a form of weakness. I’ve always questioned it because it quite literally defies the way humans are wired.
We’re not supposed to be alone.
We’re supposed to have somebody to get through life with, whether that’s a romantic partner or a friend. It’s unnatural to go through life alone. A quote by Charles Bukowski stuck with me when I was young, and it still sticks with me now.
And when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?
The Order sold it as freedom. Sold it as being self-sufficient and uncompromising. But doing something you normally wouldn’t do for someone you love is strength, not weakness. Tolerating things you don’t like so the person you love can enjoy them is selflessness, not losing yourself. I can’t think of anymore that defines a person more than the ability to love someone greater than themself—and still maintain a sense of identity. Not everyone can be that emotionally intelligent, though.
I can see now why the Order discouraged relationships and friendships and trusting each other beyond trusting our literal lives in someone else’s hands when we were out in the field on a hunt. Because when you’re close to someone, you can share the thoughts they don’t want spoken out loud. And when you know you’re not the only one questioning things, action can happen.
“Can I ask you something?” Mabel breaks the silence, turning her head toward me.
“You can,” I reply, offering a slight smile. “Can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough,” she chuckles. A few more seconds of silence pass before she squeezes my hand. “I know you’re mad at Xavier for forcing you to open the door,” she begins. “But do you think that’s the whole reason you’re mad?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe there’s a part of you that knew this was the only way things could go. There’s a part of you that knows you had to release this demon. So instead of being mad at him, you’re just mad at the situation. Maybe there’s even a part of you that knows locking him up wasn’t the best solution from the start. When something’s in a cage, there’s always a chance it can get out.” She pauses. “I know I just said all that, but I can’t stop thinking that maybe you’re mad because Xavier did what you couldn’t. And it’s what you knew had to be done. So, in a way, maybe you’re also mad at yourself.”
I stare at the ceiling, noticing a tiny dried paint drip near the chandelier. How many times has this room been painted? I let her words sink in, and once again, I’m taken aback by how introspective Mabel can be.
She’s right.
At the end of the day, I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it, and that was a consequence I would’ve had to live with. I don’t know what would happen if a demon took my soul. I don’t know if I’d turn evil. I don’t know if I’d suddenly succumb to the dark side and turn on everyone I love.
I’ve never really considered myself a dangerous person because I have a somewhat decent moral compass, but magic aside, I have the skills and abilities to cause major destruction. And if I add in the fact that I’m newly discovering my powers…