Page 100 of Born for Starlight

"Angel, talk to me. Are you okay? Just say something."

Matthew from the sofa. Jase in my ear. Two men I loved were hammering at me, and I couldn't answer either one of them.

Because I was busy.

I was busy keeping the monsters buried.

For thirty years they’d stayed in the deep hole I had dug, but one young girl’s eyes and cheekbones started digging up the dirt. And Julian had brought the shovel.

Bars.

A hand closed around my arm, swinging me.

A little girl monster, spitting and calling me names.

Merda.

Shit.

I understood the word. I'd understood it my whole life and never knew I did.

The smell was the worst part. Urine and disinfectant, still sitting in my nose from that courtyard, and my stomach kept climbing toward my throat. I was burning up. I squeezed my eyes shut. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, and I drowned them out—Matthew, Jase, all of it.

Keep them buried, Drakos. Stomp the dirt.

The smells. God, the smells.

"Angelica."

Bruno's voice.

I opened my eyes. My big brother filled the doorway with a plastic bag in his hand, and right behind him Julian wriggled past his shoulder, phone up, lens hunting for my face. I clenched my teeth, fighting back the bile.

My stomach won.

I lurched over the edge of the sofa and threw up on the tile, close enough to splash Matthew's shoes.

Bruno's hand closed around Julian's wrist, and the phone stopped mid-rise. "Put it away."

Matthew never flinched. He didn't move his feet, and he didn't let go of my hand. He gathered my hair back with his free hand and held it while my whole body continued to heave.

"Ew.” Julian gagged.

Deke had a cloth from somewhere and was down on one knee wiping the tile before anyone else finished reacting. By the time I got my breath back, Bruno was crouched in front of me pressing a cool, wet cloth to my forehead. Where had he gotten a wet cloth? I had no idea, and I didn't care. My brother was here. That was what mattered.

"Obrigada," I whispered.

Thank you.

Bruno went still.

In my ear, Jase pulled in a breath.

The word had been sitting right there. It had waited thirty years for me to open my mouth.

I reached for Bruno, and that was when I found out my other hand was wrapped around Matthew's, hanging on for dear life. I didn't remember taking it. I didn't let go.

"Senhorita, please." Costa hovered near the desk, dabbing his lip with his handkerchief. "I must insist. A doctor. Senhor, she is worse, look at her, we must call⁠—"