“Kellan?”

I felt him leaving.

“Kellan!” I could no longer see him. “Where’d you go? Come back.”

I was left with a whole host of “what the hells” going on in my head. The painter knew me. He knew Kellan. Kellan knew him. They both knew that I wasn’t a demon. They knew more than what they shared tonight, and somehow I also knew this other information, too, but wasn’t allowing myself to know it. Again—what the hell?

Then the man from my vision spoke to me. “You will learn. You are still a child.”

His voice haunted me, but I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see a ghost, and I was thankful for that little bit, which was ironic, considering I’d grown up in a demonic family.

When Kellan left, the mounting anger stopped inside of me. I didn’t feel like I was inside of a cage, and instead, I was alone in a darkened hallway of my school. I could’ve convinced myself there’d been no painter, no Kellan, no haunting voice. Just me. I was merely a student. Human. But the overwhelming peace that entered me when I heard the old man’s voice was too strong for me to ignore.

My relief when I heard that I wasn’t a demon was too powerful. There was something inside of me, something I couldn’t control. Kellan was right. I felt like a ticking time bomb. It was a matter of time before I exploded. There’d be no more answers that night. Sighing, I did what I always did when an urge was blasting inside of me. I painted. Four hours later, the result wasn’t what I expected. My last painting had been of three angels descending. The painting before that had been a trail in a forest. This one was of me. I wore a cloak that was pulled over my head with my face peering out. There was a light behind me, and I was half-turned toward it. A shadow of something was coming out of the light, and my expression in the painting was that I was reluctant for some reason. I should’ve been scared. Kellan told me that I was scared of everything.

As I turned to leave, I took the canvas and lifted it to place on the floor. When I did this and stepped back, something in the bottom corner caught my eye. One of my hands in the painting was half-turned, as if I was about to reach out to the light. The other hung down on my other side, in the darkness. The end of it was dripping in blood. Something horrible was going to happen. I didn’t know what, or how it would happen, but I’d have a hand in it. Literally.

Shivers went down my spine. I couldn’t shake them even after I left the school and called Kellan to pick me up. When he arrived, the shivers only got worse. I was almost trembling as I got into the car and struggled to buckle my seatbelt.

Kellan spoke roughly, “You don’t really need that.”

Oh yeah. My now numb fingers let it fall back.

He added, “One of these days you’ll forget you’re not human.”

“I’m part human.” I was sure of that.

He didn’t respond, and the silence grew between us. I felt like I was being suffocated again. Kellan had this effect on me. As we drove, neither of us spoke. I was slightly fearful he’d ask what I had painted, but then again, I wasn’t sure if he really knew. All I knew was that I didn’t want to tell him. For some reason, I wanted it kept private to myself. But then again, until this evening, everything I had done had been kept private. I had been in fear of Kellan finding anything out about me, of this—I wasn’t sure either. Maybe it was because his demon was so powerful. Maybe I still didn’t completely trust Kellan. Had I ever trusted him? Was I sure that I could trust him now?

“I can feel your thoughts. They’re irritating me,” Kellan growled in the darkness.

Glancing over, his side profile seemed attentive to the road, but I knew it was a lie. Everything in his body was tuned toward me. The human eye could be deceived so easily. I commented lightly, “I’m surprised you can’t read thoughts.”

“I can’t read yours. I can read others.”

“Like Leah’s?” My heart skipped a beat when I asked. That situation had been bothering me since I first learned about her stepfather. And I couldn’t help to wonder if he’d still gone over there—or what had he done?

Kellan didn’t respond for a moment. When he did, his voice was rough. “Why don’t you ask what you really want to know?”

“Fine.” I took a breath. “Did you kill him?”

“I didn’t even go over there.”

His answer came so swift, too swift. “What do you mean?”

“I was going over there, but I felt something was wrong with you. I didn’t go because of that. I changed course.”

“You came for me?”

“You know I did. Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Then he turned and watched me intently. “Like you’re trying to figure me out. What is it? What do you want to know?”

Never had Kellan been so upfront with me. It blew my breath away for a moment. “Just like that? Anything I ask you, you’re just going to answer?”

“I can see it’s bothering you, so yes. Within reason, I’ll answer whatever you ask of me.”

“Why?” The question blurted from me, so quickly. He’d always been closed off, gone his separate way. Even Vespar and Gus didn’t feel they really knew him.

“Because I can feel how important it is for you. That’s why. You need more reason?” Annoyance flashed in his voice. “You only get a few questions. Pick wisely.”