"I allowed myself to suffer how
jarringly destructive the
present feels and how fragile
the past."

~~Ann Brashare

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~Nova~

There were many possibilities that went through my head on the drive to this place, several of which would make great episodes of The Twilight Zone. I had considered the Rosalyn was being held hostage by evil sprites or rogue witches, a rival pack perhaps or humans demanding money. 

But for some reason, which struck me now as completely odd that it hadn't occurred to me before, seeing Rosalyn with her blue streaked hair bouncing in a ponytail and a huge grin on her face with Torch casually standing behind her wasn't in my list of potential events. It made sense to me as I observed the two who appeared completely at ease with each other, which is probably why I wasn't nearly as surprised as everyone else seemed to be.

No one moved, hardly daring to breathe, for nearly a solid minute but then I blinked and Robbie was on the porch. Cursing under my breath, I rushed towards them in preparation for a fight to break out. I was exhausted and my nerves were frayed already, so an altercation was the last thing on my list of stuff to do.

Robbie gripped Rosie's shoulders, turning her this way and that as he looked her up and down checking for any signs of harm or recent injury.

"Robbie, I'm fine," Rosalyn complained, trying to bat away her grandson's concern. "Please, would you stop it already."

"Not a word in weeks," Robbie growled, finally backing off a moment later, "I think I've earned the right."

Without missing a beat, Robbie turned towards Torch, eyes blazing furiously at the other man. Unlike the first, and only, time I had met the man in person, Torch seemed uneasy. He raised his head, exerting a look of confidence despite the continuously rising tension in the air. 

"And you!" Robbie snarled, grabbing the front of Torch's shirt and slamming him into the wall. "How dare you come anywhere near my gran! I ought to rip your throat out right now where you stand! Cut off your fingers for touching her! I swear to the gods, above and below, if you hurt a single hair on her head, you'll wish for death!"

Anger ignited in Torch's midnight colored eyes, burning as bright as Robbie's as he mirrored the hold, twisting his fingers into the fabric at Robbie's throat.

"You petulant boy! Never would I harm Rosalyn!" Torch spat, shoving Robbie backs and releasing him.

But Robbie wouldn't be deterred, anger and fear warring with each other for the sake of his gran. He stood chest to chest with Torch, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through his nose.

"You've risked her life! Taken her from her home, where she was safe!" Robbie bared his fangs, dual sets of canines flashing as he snarled, "I've killed countless for far less than that and nothing would please me more than to drain you dry."

"Stop it!" Rosie shouted, attempting to step between them while all I could do was watch in morbid fascination. "Stop it, both of you!"

They ignored her, Torch shoving Robbie backwards and advancing on him as he hit the porch railing.

"Go ahead and try it, pretty boy! I dare you," Torch taunted.

"Oh for the love of -," Rosie shrieked in frustration, pushing her way between the two with her own amber eyes glowing bright with anger. "Fucking stop it! You're acting like children!"

"Gran -," Robbie began but the look she shot quickly shut him up.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, her smile strained as she tried to reign in her anger. "Now will you two please act at least somewhat civilized? I am a grown woman and I will do as I please. You stayed away for years, letting us think you were dead and I would have believed it if it hadn't been for James. So stop your temper tantrum, right now!"

Wordlessly, I slipped my hand into Robbie's, offering any soothing comfort I could manage. August and Nevada stood at the bottom of the steps, his arm holding her against his side as they watched the situation unfold. I couldn't fault them for being cautious or Robbie for being upset, the situation being much more complicated than it seemed on the surface. His hand gripped mine tightly as if he were clinging to me to anchor him, to hold his anger and sanity in check, but with my own stability in question I wasn't positive of how much good I could do.

"Civil isn't exactly a word I would associate with him, Gran," Robbie ground out, eyes throwing glacial daggers at Torch, choosing not to comment on Rosie's own verbal sparring.

"Behave, young man, or I'll hang you up by your ears," Rosie warned, jabbing a slender index finger against her grandson's chest. "We have pressing matters to deal with and that does not include your anger issues. Do you understand me?"

Robbie narrowed his eyes, flicking them down to look at the small woman who returned his gazing unflinching. After a moment, he gave a jerky, reluctant nod but didn't unclench his jaw to speak. Torch smirked triumphantly at Robbie behind Rosie's back earning a look that I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of. 

It was almost difficult to pair this man before me with the one I had seen beaten and bloody in that video. Almost. But there was no mistaking the stubborn tilt of his head, defiance practically oozing from his pores as his eyes dared anyone brave enough to push him. It was the same handsome face with eyes hard and cold that I had seen before. Whatever this man's story was, it wasn't a pretty one.

Torch finally looked away from Robbie, brows drawing in as he surveyed the yard. I heard the subtle indraw of breath as his nostrils flared, like he was searching for a scent but that was odd for a fae… wasn't it? I couldn't help but sniff experimentally even though I knew I wouldn't smell anything different. 

Well, that's… curious…, I thought as I tried to subtly study him.

"You brought Michael, the warlock, with you right?" Rosie asked, peering over Robbie's shoulder. "You said you would but I don't see him."

"What do you want with him?" Robbie asked stiffly. 

"That doesn't concern you," Torch replied before Rosie could but he seemed distracted as he focused on the shadows just out of sight at the front of the house. Raising his voice a notch or two, he called out, "Come on out, Mikey. I know you're here."

Nevada glanced over her shoulder in the direction Torch was looking, leaning even more against August. After a moment's hesitation, she slowly held out her hand and gave a small nod as she waited. Michael moved away from the shadows of the house, not looking at anyone or anything in particular for more than a few seconds at a time. As his hand carefully gripped Nevada's, I noted the subtle tremble in his fingers as they curled around her smaller ones.

When he was standing on the bottom steps, eyes downcast as he studied the porch railing intently, I glanced at Torch. A deep frown tugged down the corners of his generous mouth and a crease to match had formed between his eyes as he studied Michael. I could bet that if Torch knew Michael at all then he would notice the obvious change in him, and it wasn't a good one. 

You could see that he was broken down, even if he held his head high and back straight, the ghosts still lingered in the kaleidoscope colors of his eyes. I wondered what was going on in Torch's head, waiting in the thick tension filled night for what would happen next. I didn't know what their relationship had been like over the years but Michael seemed to respect and care for the man from what I had seen, but now he just seemed scared.

Then my mind bounced back to what Michael had told me before. The things that had been done to him were in part because of someone looking for his brother. Indirectly, Torch was the reason for Michael's fragile state and I wasn't even sure he knew it. What would he do when he found out?

"Michael?" Torch questioned, taking a step towards him but halting when Michael visibly flinched. He held his hands up but didn't approach as he said, "You don't have to be afraid of me, little brother."

Michael drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders before raising his gaze to Torch. I could see the determination tightening the skin around his eye as he forced himself to cling to whatever strength he had managed to find.

"I'm not afraid of you," Michael replied and even I wasn't sure if it was the truth or not. "I just wasn't expecting to see you is all."

"Yeah, it's been a few years hasn't it?" Torch said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Try a few decades." Michael's grip on his staff tightened until the knuckles on his hand turned white. "Some people have been looking very hard for you, Razi, and they're very… enthusiastic with their search."

Robbie tensed beside me and my fingers tightened around his hand, both of us clearly unhappy with the potential direction of the conversation. I was a bit surprised by Robbie's concern for my friend but clung to it nonetheless because if things went south, it helped knowing that someone other than myself would help protect Michael. He needed people that cared about him, but making him relive those awful weeks wasn't the way to heal.

"And who would that be?" Torch asked, eyes shuddered and his face a blank mask.

Michael shrugged, feigning disinterest or boredom. "A menagerie of creatures; far, shifters, vamps, whatever."

Torch mirrored Michael's shrug. "What can I say? I'm good at pissing people off."

He had obviously not caught on the unspoken words of what Michael had been through. Michael scowled, a ripple of magick wafting from him and across the porch. 

"And everyone else is just collateral damage," Michael spat as if repeating something he had heard many times before. Anger sparked in his eyes that blazed a brilliant turquoise shade of blue before he turned to Rosie. "Got a beer, Rose? Or maybe some whiskey? Think I'm going to need something strong for this."

Michael didn't wait for an answer, slipping passed her and into the house just as Rosalyn opened her mouth to answer. The door slammed shut behind him, the window rattling lightly in their frames from the jarring impact. I didn't hesitate to follow him, dragging Robbie behind me with our joined hands into the house.

"Why do I have to come too?" Robbie complained as the front door closed with a click. 

"Because I need to check on him and you'll kill someone if I'm not there," I answered while peering around the house.

The furniture was mismatched and ugly, personal mementos and other decor nowhere to be found. A couch was pushed against one wall of the living room, patterned with large, ugly flowers in faded browns and reds. There was a green, corduroy loveseat beneath the window and a dark blue recliner across from it, the fabric threadbare in several places and the handle broken on the side. Deciding not to comment, or care for that matter, I moved further down the hall.

We found Michael in the kitchen, already rummaging through cabinets and drawers while muttering curses under his breath.

"Hey," I said casually, not wanting to spook him with our presence but he didn't bother to look up.

"Why is there enough tea bags for a thousand gallons of tea but not a single drop of whiskey?" Michael asked as a way of greeting, nothing looking up. "Who - who does that? Who drinks that much fucking tea?"

"My gran," Robbie supplied, sounding almost disappointed with the idea.

"Ha! No," Michael denied with a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "No, Rose likes her hooch that's one thing I remember about her."

"Wait, you know my gran?" Robbie questioned.

"Pup, I'm about five times your age. Rose and I have met a time or two."

"Well, that's disturbing," Robbie mumbled and I nudged him in the ribs to shut him up.

"Mike, are you okay?" I asked, deciding to poke the elephant in the room.

"No- yes, yes I'm fine," he answered quickly, deserting his search for the alcohol and leaning against the counter. "I just need a drink."

We heard the front door open and then close a minute later, footsteps echoing down the hall. Michael sighed as he eyed the kitchen doorway.

"This isn't how I expected the day to end, that's all," he admitted, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You're not the only one, trust me." I agreed even though I knew that wasn't the whole truth. Robbie nodded as well but we dropped the subject as everyone else filed into the kitchen.

Rosalyn was the last to enter, a barely touched bottle of amber liquid in her hand as she smiled at Michael. 

"I thought this would be necessary so I saved it," she smiled, pulling a few tumblers from the cabinet.

"Told you," Michael taunted Robbie, all but poking his tongue out when Robbie rolled his eyes. 

Nevada and August had yet to say anything still, yet again hovering at the edge of the scene as if prepared to make a break for it if the moment arose. They wouldn't though, not leaving us behind anyway but the option to flee the possible impending drama still hung in the area. 

Lucky bastards.

Torch hovered a few feet behind Rosalyn, watching every move she made and I once again wondered about their connection. He had saved her life but it was more than that, it had to be. As I watched the two of them interact when she handed him a glass, I let myself attempt to get a feel for him once again. 

His face and eyes gave nothing away, nothing definitive to draw assumptions from other than the fact that his gaze rarely left the petite but fierce shifter. Rose, as a previous Luna, was no doubt only delicate on the surface and hard as steel just beneath. Torch, a man of many mysteries and drenched in obvious danger, seemed almost… mesmerized or fascinated by her. 

The energy that subtly radiated from him was definitely odd however. I couldn't pin down any one emotion or trait that was purely what it should have been. Everything about his auto was tinged with a haziness that I couldn't quite figure out but seemed familiar nonetheless. 

"Why did you call us here, Gran?" Robbie asked, downing half of his glass in one gulp. "And why does he have to be here?"

Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, he jabbed his thumb towards Torch instead of Michael who stared intently into his glass.

Rosalyn sighed and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter beside her, waving it towards the door. "Why don't we go into the living room and have a seat? I think it will be more comfortable there."

Robbie opened his mouth presumably to argue but the look he received shut him up once again. I forced myself not to laugh at my mate and his expression that reminded me of a scolded child. Without further issues, believe it or not, our odd little group found ourselves in the living room piled on the mismatched furniture. 

The moment I sunk into the surprisingly comfortable couch cushions, exhaustion threatened to weigh my body down like lead. I needed one good night of sleep to recover from the bullshit that had happened at August's and my muscles were still angry with me for being cramped in the SUV. 

Robbie sat on my left and Michael on my right, both stiff with tension which only served to put me more on edge. It felt like ants were crawling all of my skin with the tension and stressed filling the room. August sat in the recliner with Nevada perched beside him with his arm lightly around her waist, once again still keeping her close. Torch and Rosalyn took the love seat, their bodies close but not quite touching as Rose poured everyone another round. I glanced at Nevada who hadn't spoken yet and found her staring curiously at Torch.

Following her lead, my attention fell back to the peculiar presence of the man we had been told to fear. Just looking at him, I could see the fact that he was a man to be wary of but just like the first time I had met him, I didn't get a sense of being threatened. He didn't seem particularly thrilled with our presence but otherwise hadn't shown any indication that he planned to attack. But then again, he was several centuries old and had plenty of time to develop a great poker face so I could be dead five minutes from now and never see it coming.

"What are we doing here?" Robbie asked again, sipping from his glass.

His skin was still more pale than it should have been and I was reminded that he hadn't fed yet which made me feel terrible. I knew crappy grocery store food would suffice for a short while, but he needed blood if he wanted to retain his full strength and we definitely needed that right now. I had considered offering, and under normal circumstances i would have already, but i wasn't at my greatest either and it would defeat the purpose if i put myself in a much weaker state as well. 

Gods, my head is all over the place., I thought as I drained the whiskey from my glass and revelled in the burn that slid down my throat. 

"Well -," Rosalyn began cautiously with a glance at Torch but was cut off by Nevada's sudden exclamation.

"Oh my gods!" 

Everyone looked sharply towards her at the outburst. My sister's hand was raised halfway to her mouth that was opened in a surprised 'O' shape and her eyes were wide as they stared at Torch. Confused, I flicked my eyes to the man who seemed just as caught off guard as everyone else, one dark eyebrow arched over his left eye.

"What?" August asked with concern, instantly going on the defensive, looking for the threat to his mate. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, she pointed at Torch with a look of pure shock and fascination. Her mouth opened and closed several times before any sounds finally managed to come out and when they registered, a few more pieces fell into place… sort of.

"You're… you're a… you're a hybrid!"

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A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long! I've been so busy with my remodel lately and my brain has been scattered or exhausted when I'm not running around like a headless chicken. Bright side we are so close to finished!

Please forgive me!

Let me know what you think of the chapter! Next one has been briefly started and I'll finish it as soon as I can.

Thank you so much for not giving up on me!

XOXO🖤❤🖤❤

~SM~