Ethereal

Phillip's POV

"I'm dead." Was the only thing Serena said before plummeting her butt on my bed. "Don't snicker... How are you standing? God, don't you have a stamina limit?"

I shrugged the brown jacket, flinging it to my desk chair.

We'd been out searching for herbs Serena needed to exorcise the Succubus from Sam. We'd found every last one but Osha. Nina and His Royal Prickness had it covered.

"Stop worrying." She leaned back on her elbow.

"I'm not worried." I muttered, knowing it was the worst lie in the history of lies.

"Yes, you are. You've been worried ever since Nina called saying they were going to Fairfax." The cords in my neck pulled tautly. "If it were anyone else with him, I'd be frenetic. But it's Nina—he went through a great deal of trouble to get her. He needs her."

Serena echoed the thoughts I'd been feeding myself all afternoon. Amazingly, hearing the words from her calmed me a lot more.

Shutting my eyes for a minute, I willed the strain along my back to relax. The pent up tension wanted to explode out of me like a raging Alien baby.

The bed squeaked, soft footfalls got closer and a smell I knew well fused with the air. Shit, it was like drowning in her. The vanilla wasn't as strong today, though. Serena carried an outdoorsy scent.

I'd always loved hiking, so a part of me was purring at the new addition.

"Are you okay?" A soft palm, smelling of a hundred different herbs, brushed my cheek.

Parts of me tingled and my throat felt dry, like I'd swallowed an entire sandbox. Gross.

My eyes slipped open meeting hers. Her blue eyes were the summer sky on a lazy afternoon. Stole my damn breath each time I caught a glimpse.

Serena's eyes grew once my hand—it had grown a mind of its own—reached up. I plucked a dry, tangled leaf, smiling.

"Nature has a thing for you."

She huffed, cheeks turning pink. Cute.

"Nature sucks. My hair's all sticky, my clothes are wet and sticking to places I didn't think—" My shoulders shook as I laughed. "Jerk."

Serena rolled her eyes, pushing my side. I kept laughing and it felt... It felt good. Right. What made it so fun was that she was smiling, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," I managed, easing my laughs into Chuckle Land.

"No you're not." No, I wasn't. "Oh, stop."

I moved to my desk, fast. Dropping the leaf into my garbage can. With Serena's back to me, I... I lost common sense. Had to be it. Because my arms found their way around her waist and they held on.

"Phillip—what..." She shrieked, gripping my arms as I dragged her—us—backwards.

Soon, the back of my knees hit the bed's edge. We tumbled down, bouncing on the mattress.

I bounced on the it. Serena bounced on me.

A rush of hunger pumped my bloodstream.

"I thought you were tired."

"Yeah, but..."

"That you'd die if you didn't sit down, that once you sat down you'd be sitting for the next ten years." I breathed just below an earlobe, my nose brushed the delicate curve of her jaw. "I was paying attention the whole way home. Shame on you for doubting me."

She tried twisting out of my embrace for almost five minutes. No good. Her hands dropped to where mine were—on her lower stomach. I was holding her so close I could feel Serena's bellybutton through the thick hoodie she was wearing.

Serena tried prying off the clasped hands, going nowhere fast.

"You think this is funny?"

My lips were curved into grin.

"Nope," slamming her legs on the mattress she sighed loudly. "I think this is punishment."

"Punishment?"

"Being stuck here. On top of me. In my bed. It's your punishment for whining your way through the forest and getting on my nerves."

This time she twisted, not to pull free, but to face me. Reluctantly, I gave her the space before I pressed us together again.

Ah damn.

We were chest to chest. My hands were too close to her round, hot ass and her leg... One of them had snuck between mine.

What a table turner.

Serena's eyebrows puckered as she looked at me, resting her chin on my chest.

"Hmm, this is an awful punishment." There were traces of a daring smile. "I can't think of a worse fate..."

"Just think, we're going to be like this for the next ten years." She nodded, making a face I'd totally mimic if we ran out of sweets.

Serena's fake horrified expression dropped quick. She looked startled. I opened my mouth—

"You have dimples," she said. Huh. "I... I'd never seen them before." A breath clinched as a curious finger traced along my lips, dipping in the fold of my cheek.

"Guess I never had a reason to smile this much while we were..."

"In Hell." I nodded. The tip of her finger lingered, even if my smile was long gone. "I like it. They suit you."

Note to self: smile until those dimples popped.

Tentatively, I turned on my side, taking Serena along. Our bodies were front with front, my legs squeezed hers and her hands were pressed into my chest. I traced an idle circle in the space between her jeans and sweater. She shivered at the direct contact.

Inhaling a deep one, Serena nuzzled closer.

"Phillip?"

"Hmm?"

She wet her rose lips. My chest heaved. I shifted forward, feeling my mouth burn from the simple anticipation.

"Why do you have an empty fish tank?"

My lips closed.

Not what I'd been expecting her to say. Actually, I would've been more than happy with her not saying anything. I'd always liked 'show' better than 'tell'.

Ruffling coppery hair away, I looked to where the supreme, big ass four-wall-glass tank sat. Still hadn't taken care of it.

"It used to be full," I slipped an arm from underneath her, resting my head on my elbow. "They died while I was in Hell. No one thought it was important to swing by and feed them," Which hadn't been. If we prioritized.

Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Were they pretty?"

Any other time, with any other girl, I would've laughed. Guys didn't care about pretty. Unless we were talking about a pretty lady.

"Sounds like they were beautiful." She said once I finished up on the three Angel Fishes' description. "Why haven't you bought new ones?"

Good question.

Sighing, I looked to the ceiling.

"I don't know. It's like... ever since I got back things have been different—I've changed." It was my first time talking about this. Hadn't felt right with Nina, definitely not with Cam. "I used to be on the basketball team and because my grades slipped..." I paused, feeling a weird shimmer of shame creep over. "I never liked school since I was kid—and History is really boring, I mean, who cares what happened a hundred years ago? But I know I should do better. Cam doesn't even try and he—"

"Phillip."

"It's just easy for him, but when I'm in class all I do is stay awake—"

"Phillip." A hand dug between my pecks, causing me to gasp and stop.

Serena propped herself up on an elbow, looking down into my eyes. There was an anxious swallowing motion from me.

"I don't care," the words slammed into me. "You don't have to like school—or History—just because your brother does. You're not him. And I don't mind that you don't like it."

My heart did this cartwheel-thing I bet it wasn't supposed to.

I'd never babbled about wanting to be better at school or about envying Cameron's capacity to excel in... everything. I kept that in. And Serena... she didn't care. She didn't sit here and compare me to Cameron, didn't ask why I wasn't more like him—because we were twins.

She knew I wasn't him.

"Doing well in school doesn't mean you're smart. It might mean you're a bookworm, though." Serena's smile shone like bottled up sun rays.

"You were in College." No idea why that popped out. It seemed important to point out that Serena was a year older than I was. More accomplished.

Her lips thinned, "And I dropped out."

"Because of what happened..."

Frustrated, her face closed in. Our noses grazed.

"Yes, what happened with my family and Hell had something to do with it. But stop making this about me! Not everyone wants the same things and that's fine. It's what makes life fun." Her breath washed over me—minty fresh. Reminded me of snow. "You were talking about basketball."

Right.

I took a breather, wetting my lips while my gaze flicked over her rosy mouth.

"Huh... Until my GPA isn't a solid C, I can't play games. Coach Adams has been letting me practice with them but it's not the same, and... and after the first time I noticed something. I couldn't lose myself in it like before."

She frowned.

"You're right. I do have nightmares, sometimes flashbacks." I muttered, lashes lowering. "Hunting helps, especially at night, and thinking about..." I trailed off, and Goddammit—I'd almost bitten my lip like a school girl.

"Thinking about what?"

If I said 'you' it would be straight out of Creepsville. So, I did what I did best around Serena—I stared.

Nothing creepo there, Leale. Smooth.

Aware she called out my name, I blinked, closing my mouth. The finger tracing her little flash of skin had gone lower at some point, below the waistband.

She didn't complain and I couldn't be happier.

"What I'm saying is," I let out a ragged breath. Her chest was bumping into mine—more than bumping. "Everything that used to matter before, doesn't anymore."

Two blue opals stared back with understanding and she slid forward. I couldn't tell who's breaths were shallow and raw.

I leaned in—kissing her.

On the nose.

The freaking nose!

Serena jerked, startled, eyes wide.

My lungs crashed. What the eff was wrong with me? A kiss on the nose?

Holy Hell, had I become a prude?

Wait.

This meant... meant I wanted to kiss Serena. Just not on the tip of her nose—I still stared, transfixed—though she had the cutest nose.

Ah, fuck.

I wanted to kiss her—yep. Without holding back. Whenever I was with her my intentions were the furthest from pure. It was crazy and it made me insane.

You imagined her while having sex with another girl, a voice from a dusty corner of my mind whispered. You want more than kiss her.

"Some things could matter again." She whispered.

I started shaking my head when a strand of silky hair fell to the front of her face. My finger and thumb reached out, seizing it...

"...you could've warned me. A little heads up would've been nice—"

"...we got the Osha. Case closed..."

A groan built inside me.

Sounded like their trip had been fruitful. And Nina sounded fine.

"See? You worried over nothing." Serena didn't give me time to trap her, slipping free. She almost tumbled off bed with all the hurry. "Huh," she glimpsed over. I sat up, dazed. "I should go—shower—and I still have to re-read the incantation for tomorrow. Wouldn't want to screw up and accidentally clone the Succubus or something." She heaved a nervous laugh, walking backwards, eyes on me.

Serena's back hit the wall, near the door. Her hand scrambled for the knob. She made door-openings very complicated, but after a third twist, it gave.

I tracked her movements as she left, lips twisted into a wry line.

I fell back on my bed, touching the spot on my chest where we'd been touching. It felt... cold. Odd, 'cause I was the warmest person out there. But Serena's warmth was different.

It didn't just warm my skin, it broke it. Heating up my insides in a flurry of emotions. Feelings that made me want stupid human things, like buy her presents, take her to dinner, to the movies.

Next, I'd want to hold her hand and write her a poem.

I grimaced.

Before this year, before Nina, I'd never been interest in girls. Well, I smirked, I'd been interested in their anatomic parts. Not romance.

Nina had been—Nina was—the first girl who peaked my interest. My first crush. It'd been more than her obvious beauty, though, which shocked me. I liked her personality. Only when we got to dating, I saw how much she reminded me of Cameron. And dating a girl that is—essentially—your twin brother felt kinda whacky.

Plus there was the whole Cam-likes-her-but-he's-too-stupid-to-admit-it fact.

Feelings for her had melted into a sisterly bond.

Now this? I had no idea what I was supposed to do with this.

I hadn't expected to find someone in Hell that I liked. Then again, hadn't been expecting the Devil to be my uncle.

Life had shitty surprises.

Groaning, I rubbed my face.

Life was such a glorious mess right now... Serena and me shouldn't even be an issue.

A sharp edge twisted, nicking open a wound in my chest. Guilt swarmed me like bees, stinging my heart in all the right places. If I hadn't been busy being such a tool maybe Cameron wouldn't be in this mess. I should've been there to notice the headaches, the over-the-top mood-swings—because no matter how screwed in the brain I'd become, I was still his brother.

A shaky sigh escaped as my lids flickered.

Cam had always been there when I needed him. Except... in Hell.

Rolling over, I reached under the bed. I smacked around for a while, searching for a carton box—jackpot. A couple dozen dust bunnies tagged along, I blew them off. Maybe I should clean under there more often.

Yeah right.

Popping the lid was like unlatching a stream of memories.

There was a faded red pocket knife Cam had given me—probably because I kept stealing it from him—on our eleventh birthday, a Zippo lighter from my early teens—I snorted a laugh. I used to carry it around, flipping it open and closed but I'd never lit it. Not manually. I'd always ignited it using my ability.

Raphael used to say it was good practice.

There were two photos. They were discolored, like they'd gone swimming in the swears, but I could make out me and Cameron. A breath clogged my throat. Rory had taken these photos. I hadn't been down in Rockwell for a while, but one of these was up on our room.

"Crap,"

Somewhere between the bitter-sweet and the down-right kick of loss, I'd bunched up the picture. Fingers unlatched so quickly, the old photo floated back into my dusty time capsule.

Heaving a sharp breath, I traced a folded sheet of paper.

Memories were important. Without them we were nothing, the people we'd lost would cease to exist if we forgot them. That was just wrong because no matter how painful you should keep loving those people—honor their memory.

Didn't mean my fingers didn't shook while I unfolded it, that my jaw didn't lock or that my eyes weren't a stinging mess.

Cameron had always seen the worst in himself after what... after what happened with Dad. I'd hated him after that—for days. I'd been an angry eight year old who'd just lost his parents—who'd watched his father die.

Who'd watched his father get killed by his brother.

Once I'd gotten down to hating myself, it was too late. My brother... Well, he was completely different and I hadn't seen it happen. Just like this time.

While Cameron thought he was only capable of destroying things, I knew better. No one drew like him. He'd gotten it from Mom.

The pencil lines had been marked and re-marked, otherwise the gray curves would've been gone a long time ago. Down on the paper, were my parents. Nothing had made it from the fire, all photos had been lost. So, until Cameron drew this there had only been memories.

It was all to minute perfection—the way Mom's hair used to curl up towards the end, right before spilling over her shoulders, the big smile she'd show every time Dad was around, her big, round eyes, small freckled nose. And Dad—it was scary how well drawn his face was. Broad cheekbones, subtle arched eyebrows, half smile kicking up.

It had to haunt him. Their faces. Especially our father's.

That's why he'd given this to me. After drawing it he couldn't trash it, but he couldn't keep it, either.

Teeth grinding, I put the sketch back and slid the box underneath.

I stat on the bed's edge, gripping the comforter.

If I'd learned anything this past month, I'd learned how to survive without my brother. It had been hard, but I'd done it.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to break every God forsaken rule to help him.

Screw Heaven.

For once, I wasn't afraid of betraying my family. Because they weren't my anything—Cameron was. Nina was. They'd gone through shit loads of trouble to get me back. While Angels had been A-Okay with my sacrifice. And Lucifer wasn't my only missing uncle. Michael was, too.

He'd sat on his fat ass while I got imprisoned and tortured for the fun of it.

Whoever Lucifer wanted? He'd get.

Nina's POV

Today was the day—

"Today's the day!" I blanched as a mass of curls bobbed up and down.

"Wh-what?"

Dawn's big eyes shot open, radiating waves of excitement.

"The game? God, Nina, I've been ranting about it for days!" Oh. Lucifer chuckled as my shoulders slumped. I glared across the table. "You are coming right? You're dragging her." She sent Lux's way, before I got a word in.

"Yep."

"Great."

"Huh, don't I get a say in this?"

"Nope! Your fate is sealed." With the Devil hanging around, I believed it. "The Tornadoes are going to lose and we're going to the after party. It's going to be awesome."

Lucifer leaned over, hand reaching for mine. I kept a strange look to myself.

"The after party is a no-no. We have..." he paused, lips tilting. "We have a private after party planned out."

"Ew, ew and ew." Her hands waved around, dispersing whatever nasty images Lucifer's tease implanted in her brain. "Have you no shame?"

Obviously not. I was so going to strangle him with barbed wire.

"When you look this good there's nothing to be ashamed of, Curly Locks."

Dawn's brows arched.

"Did you just nickname me?" I felt as thrown off. Cameron never had a special name for Dawn, he called her stupid stuff. Things that made her want to smack him with a pan. "That's it. Have you been abducted by aliens? God—they probed you didn't they?"

A tingling smirk curled his mouth. I could see a layer of unease, though. He'd gotten off character with the pet-name.

"Did you decorate Zeke's locker?"

Dawn started talking about how Zeke didn't deserve everything she did for him—looked like they still hadn't kissed and made up—and that she shouldn't have wasted her time. Between the mopey comments and heated words, I saw a sparkle every time she said his name. An achy feel put my heart in a choke hold.

It had been days since the vision. I'd been hoping to get something more—like dreams or random flashes when Zeke hung around. I'd even lowered the wall between my Power and me. No results.

This could be a good sign. Like Cameron told me once, the future was a tricky mistress. Ever changing.

"Hey," Dawn nudged my side. "What's up with her?"

On the table next to ours, Felicia's head whipped around nervously. Had she been spying on us? A bag dropped on the round table and Phillip ended up next to me. Zeke hovered Dawn's side, making the most excruciating puppy-dog eyes. Dawn rolled her eyes but then he bent down, whispering.

Her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Huh," she mumbled, stumbling to her feet. "I just remembered something I've got to do—really important. I'll see you next period." Zeke grabbed her bag following behind her, grinning ear to ear.

"Someone's getting lucky," Lucifer whistled between his teeth. "Janitor's closet or bleachers?"

We ignored him.

"The game's tonight," Phill began. "Which means Sam's going to be out there—cheering. After the game's over is the perfect time."

It was.

We couldn't simply drag Samantha from her house. She'd gotten sneaky when it came to dodging Vanessa and me. But tonight we knew where she'd be.

Hunkering his shoulders, Phillip leaned in, "We can use the boiler room for the ritual, no one goes down there."

"You're being helpful." The comment toppled off my tongue.

One eyebrow kicked up, Phill gave me a look. After battling myself, I decided to be the person Cameron believed I was. Bold.

"Before Serena came here you weren't at all worried. Not to mention you were dodgy and broody. Broodier."

I suppressed a chuckle when his forehead lines deepened.

"Before Serena arrived I didn't know my brother was housing a demonic soul—"

"Demonic? I take offense in that."

Phillip went on, "—because he and his girlfriend kept me in dark." Ouch. "So yeah, I was doing my own thing because I didn't think I needed to worry."

I scoffed, sitting back, arms crossed.

"Aside from the Succubus issue, you mean. Which, I'm sure you were going to fix?"

His jaw worked. Those tropical lagoon eyes locked with mine in a struggle, sparking conflict.

"I was going to fix it."

"Really? How were you planning on doing that?" I was taunting, close to yell and shake him by the shoulders. "Well?" My voice sounded shrill in my ears.

Phillip's chair scraped as he got up, smacking both hands on the table. It was mystery how it didn't break.

"I was going to kill her." He hissed.

My mouth dropped open.

"Believe it or not killing a human isn't any different than killing anything else—killing is killing, Nina. And I've killed better people than Sam. So, yeah, for me it wouldn't have been hard to reach into her chest cavity and rip out her heart or twist her neck." He was heaving, chest dropping quickly, lashes lowered almost to the point where his electric eyes were hidden.

I could see his Adam's apple bob just before he ripped away from the table, taking his bag along. Eyes stopped on him as he left, pushing the doors open.

"He and the Witch really need to get it on."

I whirled, facing Lucifer with a glare. His glibness went nowhere.

"This isn't funny. He wasn't this... this person before. This is your fault."

Kicking his feet up on the table, crossing his arms, he was the picture perfect of lazy arrogance. But this once I saw nothing charming about it.

"You say it like you expect me to feel... guilty." His face twisted at the word, like he'd tasted something sour.

Pursing my lips until they were nothing but a white, thin line, I grabbed my tray and bag. I dumped the rest of lunch on the way out. It was a waste of time and breath trying to reason with that person—that monster. I tended to forget who he was—because every time I looked at him... my chest squeezed, my heart fluttered and tingles prickled me.

I saw Cameron—I felt him.

Then I had to remind myself it wasn't him. It hurt. Each time more than the time before and sometimes I wondered it would ever end.

For about an hour I didn't pay attention to a thing. The game was happening and Dawn was super-mega-hyped beside me. Sitting next to her was like being in a bouncy house. Lucifer was on my other side—looking like he'd have more fun drilling holes into his head—and Phillip was lower on the bleachers. V was sitting with him, still avoiding Gary.

By now, Serena was down in the boiler room readying everything for the exorcism. Jade was home, where it was safe. Unless a vengeful Angel decided to get back at us by kidnapping her.

God, I hoped not.

I hadn't spoken to either Phill or Satan. Even when the latter tried to rile me with countless smartass remarks.

A loud noise pulled me from no-man's land.

Many students threw their hands up, pile-driving down the bleachers and going for the gym's center.

I looked at the score board. Guess we'd won. By one point, but hey.

Dawn all but forgot about me—or she'd finally given up on rectifying my no-school-spirit mantra—and made her way down in a cheering mess.

Down in the court, I saw people pat Zeke on the back as he smiled widely, genuinely. That's when a cold feeling seized my stomach. The same I'd gotten before leaving my house for the Winter Ball.

In my vision he'd been wearing his basketball Jersey.

I flew down the wooden stairs, Phillip was nowhere.

I grabbed Vanessa's arm.

"I need you to do something," I shouted over the happy screams and hoots. "Compel Zeke to stay outside—no—tell him to skip the after party and go home."

V tucked hair away, leaning in, "Why are you so worried about Zeke? Yesterday you asked me to follow him." That had been a bust. "Nina?" She tugged on my elbow, my eyes avoided hers. "Did you... see something involving him? Something bad?"

Her whispered last word was code for 'did you see him die'. Nibbling my lip, I nodded.

"Jesus." She breathed.

Once we looked down, there was no sign of Zeke. Or most of the team. Damn it. They must've gone for the lockers.

"I'll... I'll wait for him. You just worry about Sam."

Sam.

Eyes sweeping across the moldy gym, I didn't see her, either. Ice grew on my stomach walls. Double fudge.

"Where's Phillip?"

"I think he went to the boiler?"

I hoped he wasn't in some classroom caving into murdering Samantha, not when we were so close. I looked over my shoulder to see Lucifer one step above me, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Let's look for Sam."

He came down the step, eyes on me, expression mischievous.

"Who said I'd help? I've already gotten you the Osha. Now it's your problem." He said, sitting on a bench, leaning back with a smile.

Screwing my eyes shut, I forced my breaths to even.

"Whatever." I ground, skipping down the last five steps, heading for the double doors, where people were spilling outside.

Pushing several people and earning multiple scowls, I managed to fight my way through.

Some were heading straight for the exit, excited and laughing for the after party at some popular guy's house. While they got to be young and stupid, I got to hunt a Succubus.

Fun.

I slipped into an empty hall. Sam's locker was on the end of it, I'm sure she wouldn't go without making a stop for her make-up bag. I'd seen her stuff it in more times than I'd applied eyeliner. She wouldn't leave without it—especially on a Friday.

The shouts echoed less into the hall and light was dimmed. Shouldering my satchel, I flipped it open, rummaging for my cell. Last time I went toe-to-toe with Samantha I'd been ass-backwards pissed, and I'd been carrying an Azure Dagger.

I didn't have one on me this time. Better to avoid temptation.

Unlocking the screen, I dialed Phillip. Wherever he was, he'd better get his butt here and be my backup.

The call never made it through.

The phone clacked to the ground—a strong hand pushed the small of my back, sending me forward. My temple hit a cold, hard surface. Stars danced foxtrot around my head just as pain exploded.

After a tenfold of vertigo, I was eye level with a pair of white sneakers.