Grey II - Ghosts

Chapter 43 - An Old Friend

It's passed down by generation.
This hatred could swallow us all.
Can we unlearn what's been ingrained?

Ice Nine Kills - The Product of Hate

I woke up early, a deep ache behind my eyes, not like the headaches I had suffered in previous weeks, but an echoing soreness. Then I remembered the night before, James, and our short conversation, his Shift, his words. The memory that had pulled me back, made me live through a night I wished had never happened. I must have fallen asleep, or passed out by the end of it and I cursed under my breath at James for whatever he had done to me. My mind still felt thick and I silently cursed that too as I showered and got ready for the day.

I audibly groaned when I remembered who my first session was with; Grayson. I hated Grayson, loathed every second I had to spend in his presence, and I hated it even more because his blatant disregard for my Pair's maltreatment by his father always made me want to defend him, to take his side, something I usually refused to do. I hated Grayson as much for how he was as for how he made me be. He made me understand my Pair, care about him, think of his past and cringe, feel sorry for the abuse he had grown up with. I didn't want to be able to empathize with my partner, but Grayson was heartless, the cruelest I had ever met. Often when I would daydream it would be of his death, unless Levi was around. He frowned upon my indulgent fantasies.

I had already decided that was Grayson's true purpose, the reason Abby had set him as my tutor. The old wizard may always stick to his original excuse, that Grayson was simply the best there was at what he did, but I knew Abby always had secondary and tertiary motives for everything. And Grayson's was clearly to make me think of my Pair's past, to understand how he was, to explain why he was. Abby knew I didn't listen to him, so he made me think of things on my own, come to my own conclusions. He was too nosy for his own good, too manipulative, and yet somehow not in a sinister, controlling way. Damn that old meddling wizard.

I dragged my feet as I made my way across the room. I opened my door to see the only thing that could make my mood plummet even further, James. He stood looking dull and empty across the hall leaning on the wall, clearly waiting for me.

"Abraham wants me to join in your tutoring today. He wants to meet with us both tonight after Parish and Prey as well."

His voice sounded lifeless and it made my chest tighten, but I ignored the feeling along with my anger at what he had done the night before. I didn't want him to know how awful the memory had been for me, how deeply I had fallen into it once he left, how long it has persisted. Instead I merely nodded, walking down the hall towards Ailech and Ember who were just turning the corner.

My mind must have still been thick, as I was knocking on Grayson's door before I comprehended the disaster that was about to ensue. I thought of grabbing James' arm and rushing down the hall, or somehow trying to block his view of who was about to open the thick paneled door in front of us, but as I heard the handle turn I knew I was too late. A moment later the door swung open and Grayson stood before his newest pupil...and a very old one. I don't know how it hadn't come to me, that Grayson and James meeting would most likely end in my tutor's death, but I had been so caught up in my own mind that the thought hadn't even crossed until it was too late.

Now our little group stood in silence, James by my side staring at Grayson like he was a nightmare come to life, and Grayson looking back with unimpressed eyes, taking in James' skinny frame as if he had expected better of his old student. I could feel my heart pounding. I could hear it rushing in my ears, and I silently wondered if I would try to stop James when he killed Grayson. I didn't think so.

"Can I help you, Mr. Darke? I believe my lesson is with one insufferable apprentice today, not two."

Grayson's voice didn't sound as I'd expected. I had expected a waiver of fear, of apprehension, of surprise, but instead Grayson looked just as critical and prickly as usual, a sharp aire of boredom surrounding him.