Ethereal

Phillip's POV

Finish this. Finish it. How hard can it be? It's just History.

I sighed into the emptiness of my room. It was History and there was nothing more boring. What was so great about reliving deaths—wars? I could personally say there was nothing good about remembering.

The past should stay dead.

Writing up another answer, I glanced from the bible-sized text book to the aquarium. Two weeks ago, three Angel fish had been swimming around. A Black Angel, a Platinum Angel and a White Blushing Angel. I especially liked the Platinum one. Cameron had gotten it for me and it was super rare.

Now, the fish tank was waterless and fishless. Guess Raph forgot to schedule a daily fish-feeding hour in his agenda.

I should buy new fishes. Or throw out the thing.

Or I could stop finding distractions and finish the Goddamn paper.

There were only two more to go. I just had to keep the goal present. No B average, no Basketball. And I really needed to play some ball, get all the craziness out of my head. No idea why I was in hurry to finish homework, though; it wasn't like I could sleep. I wasn't sleeping. I couldn't.

After a whole day of high school I thought I'd feel different. Instead, I felt like a stranger in my own body.

Massaging my eyes, I reached for my half-full Powerade bottle. The fact that an energy drink was rapidly becoming my new bestie was the least of my problems. My brother was on my ass 24/7. You'd think Nina would sidetrack him or whatever.

What did he think I was going to do? Commit suicide? 'Cause he was sure acting like it.

Finding the last answer, I wrote it down slowly, saving the seconds before I fell into reality. The night we returned, I'd slept. And slept. The following night... I'd gone to sleep but it would've been better if I hadn't. I ended up organizing my closet and drawers—everything by color.

Who the fudge did that? Crazy people, that's who. And the night before today? I'd spent half of it trying to read a comic book, the other half, trying to catch some Possessor, Vampire—anything I could kill. Too bad I hadn't found a thing.

Setting the pen down, I stretched back and for the smallest moment, I shut my eyes.

Hell Hounds dragging live prisoners, ripping their bodies apart—feeding on them, flashed behind my eyelids. My breath itched. Sounds of doors opening, shackles rattling, screams of pain, pleads—and a voice. That voice. His voice.

Wake up.

"You've gotta sleep some time."

You're dreaming, wake up.

"Everyone has to sleep sometime."

It's not real.

"Even you sleep, Phillip." Dark images shook—trembled—like a TV with a scrambled signal. "Go ahead," it reverberated in my head. "Close your eyes. Go to sleep."

No. He wanted me to sleep. But bad things happened when you slept.

Thousands of prickles started up my legs, getting under my jeans. Walking up and over every inch of my body. They were up to my waist—spiders. Hairy and big. Their mandibles bit into my stomach, my arms, my chest... No. No. I struggled, reaching for my Power. Fire would burn them. I needed fire—my body arched with pain only Golden Chains could cause.

No!

I couldn't be back here.

My fingers dragged over the floor as I tried to crawl away, anywhere. I fought down a scream once their little claws reached my neck. Spasms began, heat assaulted me and I... I couldn't breathe. I couldn't heal. If I breathed they'd get in, into... into my mouth. They were all over, there was nowhere to go.

I couldn't move. I had to breathe. I had...

"You shouldn't have fallen asleep Phillip." His face settled clearly.

Romeo.

An attack of blind rage tore itself from within me, in the form of a surge. A force inside me, warm and reliable, surfaced. My Power responded.

"Phillip!" Someone screamed. "Phillip! Wake up!" Cool hands touched my face. "Wake up!"

Spiders, bites, hurt—it all went away as I sat up, gasping. My face was sheen in sweat, making the pair of hands slippery. For a minute, I saw all blond hair. I didn't see golden eyes. I saw sky-blue.

"Stop that, Phillip!" The vision faded. Golden irises along with wavy, tawny hair fit the bill. Scared golden eyes.

Eyes darting to a strong heat source, I paled. My frigging jeans were on fire. I hit the flames with my hand—twice. It was all it took for them to draw out of existence.

I stared, long and hard, at the hole in my jeans. My body was immune. Not my clothes.

"Jesus," Nina breathed. "Are you..." she stopped herself, matting my hair back. "You're okay. It's okay." Her delicate arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me against her.

She was in fluffy pajamas. Her hair was tangled, her eyes blinked every once in awhile, like she'd been sleeping. What time was it?

"I heard you screaming. I thought... I don't know what I thought. I just came running and... and your jeans were catching fire!" Fingers curled around my damp cheeks, lifting my eyes to hers. "What were you dreaming about?" She asked softly.

"I..." if Nina was anything like my brother, and she was, a simple 'I don't remember' wouldn't get her off my back. "It wasn't a dream."

"Nightmare?"

I hesitated, "Memories..." Unknowingly, my hand fell on her hip. She didn't seem to mind. But tall, dark and moody did, and he was standing at my bedroom door. Breathing a little too deep, I all but ripped my face from Nina's grasp.

"You two want me to close the door?" Cameron asked in a mock-fashion. "Privacy reasons and all."

Nina's beautiful face composed a massive scowl.

"Don't be an asshat." His eyes slit. "Fire was crawling all over him!" Oh for the love of... This was just what I needed. Cameron being told my Power had run amok while I was sleeping.

His black eyes hit mine like a cannonball of concern. Among flickers of jealousy, that was. If I'd been having a good week, I would've backed away from Nina, spare her and my brother a fight—because with Cameron fights were typical—but I wasn't having a good week. Or month.

The edge of my shoulder brushed Nina's. The worry was tipping over to the green-eyed monster, quickly.

Jaw working tightly, he said, "Were you asleep?"

"Maybe."

"Yes."

Cameron looked between us.

"Well, he's awake now. Everything is fine."

"How can you say everything is fine? What if I hadn't heard him—if I hadn't waked him up?" Her chest was rising and falling quickly. So much that it took me back weeks ago. When... "The house could've burned down!" Shit. Everything about her face... it took me back to the Winter Ball night. "It could've..."

I didn't need to be a mind reader to know what was flashing behind her eyes. At that minute, a part of me stirred and guilt welled up in my stomach. But the moment I thought about comforting her, every ounce of muscle in my body stopped working. I couldn't keep doing this. Not because of my brother. Not because it was Nina.

I had to stop being such an empathist.

So, I sat there, watching Nina pushing past Cameron, breathless.

"You should go after her."

"Don't tell me what I should do." Cam snapped, head whirling my way, hair getting more disheveled than before. "What the hell was this?"

Scoffing, I got to my feet, rubbing the back of my head. Falling asleep on your desk chair and falling from said chair, wasn't as comfy as I made it out to be.

"She woke up with my screaming. Next time, I'll do it quietly." His eyes stalked me throughout the room. I pulled open a drawer, trading my Tee for a black hoodie. Or the hunting hoodie, like we called them.

"Where are you going?" Cam gave in some, sighing, as he leaned a bare shoulder on the door frame.

"Out."

I looked down at my jeans. Heh, why change out of them? They were already torched.

My brother straightened, filling up the door space so I wouldn't pass. "It's three in the morning."

"So? Sometimes we spend all night patrolling."

"Yeah, when we're together."

My hands flexed at the last word. My eyes fell on the window by the glass desk. There was more than one way to leave the house.

His eyes narrowed, but I'd already zoomed for the window. "Phillip—"

Tuning out my brother, I lifted the window and leaped, falling in a crouch. Before Cameron's head poked out the window, I was already running. It was one-hundred times better than riding a bike. I was brushing through the air, going so fast that if a tree and I collided, it would probably break. That's how much I was pushing myself, my Power. I could feel it rushing to my legs, making me quicker, and still the pressure didn't disappear.

It wanted more. Not just kiddy stuff like super-speed. It wanted materialization. Fire.

I was almost knee-deep in snow when I began slowing down.

The moon overhead was almost full, not that any human could see it. Too many clouds tonight. My eyes were better than cat's in the dark, though. I pulled up the hoodie once snow smacked me in the head. Probably fell from a tree branch.

I liked the woods in the spring and summer, autumn was humid and winter was down-right wet. The cold wasn't the problem, it was... ugly. Grey. Sad. Everything I didn't like.

I held open my hand and focused on sending Power outside, picturing a small flame. Three seconds later, I had an orange flame licking over my skin, consuming my whole palm and fingers.

I thrust my burning hand down.

A whistle and smoke rose from the snow layer. As my hand cooled, some whiteness melted around it. The flame was gone. My hand was smoking and red—the redness wasn't from heat. Just the opposite. My hand had been hot enough to roast a Thanks Giving turkey, the snow was cold enough to freeze someone's face. I'd absorbed all the cold it offered, while it got all my heat.

In the winter you didn't hear many animals. A few rabbits, hedgehogs, deer—tonight, I heard nothing but wind. Not even birds. Animals were the only ones, besides beings with Power, that could feel it. Especially when a lot was used, making the air feel unbreathable, they got scared off.

But tonight... this was weird. It wasn't like I'd set a wildfire.

I walked for the road, hands shoved in my pockets and hoodie pulled down. When we're together, he'd said. Like I wasn't capable of taking care of myself. Like I was a—

A pair of yellow eyes stared at me from behind snow-covered bushes.

A low-pitched hiss caught my ears, before a large feline jumped forward. The light-furred cougar bowed its head slightly, before it circled me, growling. The yellow eyes were glowing eerily, almost sickly. The fangs were drenched in rich blood—animal's.

This wasn't an average mountain lion.

It was a cougar with a Possessor Demon inside.

It lunged for me, jaw open, aiming for my jugular. I threw myself forward, rolling over snow. The hoodie landed over my eyes, I shook it off quick, listening to the animal coming closer, twice as fast.

"Nice kitty..." I hissed, half-way to my feet—the thing knocked into my knees. It opened its mouth widely, fangs getting too close for comfort—my hands grasped the cougar's head in time to avoid a nasty bite to the shoulder. "Where's a ball of yarn when you need one?" I pushed with all the Nephilim strength I could muster. Damn thing pushed right back.

Two against one wasn't fair.

Possessors controlled their hosts completely, meaning I wasn't just up against the Demon or cougar; I was against both of them. Until I made it shed the skin. Because that was all the feline was now, a skin, a shell where the Demon was hiding. Keeping itself alive.

The cougar's teeth were quickly joined by a new set. The fucking tentacles came with them.

A growl built low in my chest as the oily stuff clung around my throat. I could play dirty, too.

The fur under my hands caught fire. The possessed mountain lion didn't roar from pain, not until my fingers moved a little aside, digging into the eye sockets. Blood spurted down the beast's muzzle, over my fuming fingers. I kicked the cougar's belly. It flew right off.

"Gross," I wiped the blood on my jeans. They were beyond repair now. "Ready to come out and play?"

Tentacles clawed hard, faster, from the mouth. A worm, the size and width of my arm, broke through bone—skin. It hollered my way. It spat mouthfuls of acid—I zipped in a circle, until I stood behind the black-bodied creature.

A tentacle got the slip on me before I could get my flaming hands on it.

It wrapped around my ankles, tying my legs together. They felt like leather bindings. I built a quick fireball but my aim failed as the Possessor lifted me, dangling me upside-down.

The Demon shook me closer to its circular mouth. I wrenched away as a putrid smell hit me, dizzying my senses.

When we're together.

My Power built up on anger. Cameron hadn't been in Hell watching my back. I'd survived without him.

Blazing, I stretched out a hand, getting it real deep into the Demon's mouth. The sudden change of strategy got it disoriented. I was feeling a burn now, from the acid, but I pushed down the blinding pain.

That's when the Possessor felt it. My arm becoming a living torch, ready to burn it from the inside out. And that's just what I did. I called on more and more; the worm's skin showed some prickly bubbles. They burst and blood poured.

Next, there were Demon guts all over the place. Dark blood covering the once pristine snow.

I fell on the soothing snow, twitching in pain—not just in my arm. Once the Possessor went kaboom, the acid got onto my neck, some on my cheeks... I was rubbing myself against the cool, hoping it would take some biting pain away.

The hoodie's material on my left arm had been obliterated. Both from my fire and Possessor acid. My arm... A spasm later, I could barely keep my eyes from flinching. My arm looked like raw meat.

I didn't move until some amount of skin had rebuilt itself. Once I could move without wanting to sleep in an ice-tub, I staggered among snow and exploded-Demon-guts. Leaning on a tree trunk, I felt a sense of satisfaction looking at what I'd done.

Me.

I smirked. My Power had gone dormant, happy.

I made my way back home, stepping slowly into our property, listening for heartbeats. Only two. Both steady, asleep—wow. I frowned. They were more than both steady—they were exactly the same pace.

I couldn't tell which was Cam's and which was Nina's. Me and Cam were twins and not even we got that type of sync.

Shaking it off, I spotted my open window. Climbing was overrated when you could jump. After getting my hands on the windowsill, I pulled myself up, inside. Tossing away the hoodie, shoes and jeans, I toppled onto bed.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

***

"You can't ignore me forever." I heard while going down the stairs, stretching my arms. "Are you serious right now?"

"As a heart attack." My brother's voice carried off. He sounded like his pretentious self. Nice.

Silence. Hmm, seemed like big bro was still pissed because of last night's misunderstanding.

I don't think me entering the kitchen with a sly grin improved his mood. But hey, at least I was showered and dressed.

"You two lovebirds fighting already?" Nina's jaw dropped a tenfold and my brother stashed—more like tossed—the milk carton into the fridge.

His shoulder knocked into mine as he stormed out. Wasn't long before the front door slammed. My good three hours of sleep downed. Maybe I'd pushed it a little too far.

"That was uncalled for." I said, feeling my eyes wander to the ground.

"It was," she agreed. I looked at Nina's near angelical beauty, seeing how exasperation crumbled into tiredness. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Yes," my voice sounded thick. Guilt from last night hopped down my esophagus. "Nina?"

"Hmm?"

"Last night... I didn't mean to lose control like that. I don't think it ever happened before—not even as a kid. I'm sorry. I know you got scared and—"

She whirled from the goodies cabinet, cutting me off, "I'm not a weakling, Phillip. I'm not going to panic each time I see fire and I won't stop living my life because of an incident. My family... what happened was horrible, but it happened." She said it all unblinking. Her words were strong and honest, a little pained, too. "I'm learning to deal with it."

I nodded, moving to grab some cereal off a shelf, pouring it onto a bowl. When had she become this... girl? The Nina I'd first met had been shy, goofy but endearing, and gorgeous. That last part hadn't changed. The rest... it was like looking at a remolded version.

She'd become someone new in two weeks. Grimacing, I dashed for milk. She hadn't been the only one who'd changed.

"Looks like I finally get to drive my car." She mused, glimpsing outside, where the garage was.

"He took off?"

"Yup."

My stomach somersaulted, ending up in knots. It hurt when I washed down the cereal.

"I can give you a ride?" My way to make up for things was us showing up together? Cameron wouldn't read well into it. Then again, it was Cameron. He was overly territorial.

"Thanks but no thanks. I want to drive my car." She finished putting her dishes into the washer. "Phillip?"

I glanced up from the lucky charms. She was leaning on the counter, biting a lip.

"Did you finish that History thing?"

"Yeah. Did it a couple of minutes before you found me with my pants on fire." She smiled a little. I wish it'd made her smile more.

"Great." She tucked a wavy strand, walking to the exit. "I'm going to get my stuff. See you at school?"

I gave her thumbs up. She hurried up the stairs, into the bedroom that was now hers.

She'd wanted to ask something else, I knew it. I could imagine what it was.

Stuffing my stuff into the dishwasher ten minutes later—I'd had several bowls—I went up to get my books and most importantly, the report. I had to see Coach Adams after today's practice. I needed to play.