Charcoal Tears by Jane Washington

handed him my battered purse. He unlocked the car and I turned back to the jeep. They saw me heading back to them and Noah jumped behind the wheel. Cabe opened the passenger door for me, and then climbed into the back.
    “Where are we going?” I asked.
    “Home?” Noah shrugged. “Unless you want to go somewhere in particular?”
    “Home sounds fine.”
    He offered me a smile and then turned on the radio. I curled my knees to my chest, looping my arms around myself. As we pulled into the apartment building, Cabe was there to open my door again and I fidgeted all the way up to the top floor. Noah caught my hands, pulling one of them away. He held it and drew me into the apartment. Cabe closed the door and they headed straight for the kitchen. It seemed a routine of sorts; Cabe grabbed an armful of snacks, and then they both walked down the sunken living room and Cabe kicked open one of the doors. This room looked back onto the city, and there was a grand piano set against the glass wall. Bookshelves hugged the inside walls, and this room had another sunken part, boasting the piano and a few couches. The raised part held the bookshelves and a comfortable armchair, as well as a computer desk littered with electronics.
    The door to the apartment banged open as Cabe put down his snacks, and Noah’s grip on my hand turned to iron. He sent a panicked look at Cabe, whose expression had gone blank.
    “I forgot to tell him,” Cabe muttered. He raced out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
    Quiet male voices drifted to where I stood and I rounded on Noah.
    “What was that? Who’s out there?”
    His thumb brushed over the inside of my wrist, his turbulent eyes distracted. “Miro,” he said. “He doesn’t want to see you right now.”
    “Huh?” I started to pull away, wanting to peek through the door, but Noah swooped me back with a chuckle.
    “Hey, little ghost. You wouldn’t leave me here alone would you?” He planted his hands on my hips and shifted my back against the side of the piano.
    I pushed him lightly, warring feelings of panic and solace seizing me and making my head spin. There was some part of me—an alien part of me—that recognised Noah and Cabe as familiar, and comfortable. But the real me was afraid. “You can’t distract me. Who’s Miro?”
    His mouth hooked into a smile and he captured my other hand, tugging my arms together and tucking them behind me, effectively forcing my body forward and fitting it into his.
    “I can distract you.” His voice was both amused and breathless, his head nudging mine to the side.
    He was switching on the compelling gravity of his personality again, and I started to forget what we were talking about. My head fell to the side and the now familiar haze descended over my mind, filling me with an elation that wasn’t quite mine, and sedating me with a weakness that confused my senses. The air crackled with electricity and he grunted, pushing against me.
    I blinked my eyes open and my head snapped up. Did I just zap him?
    He backed off, his eyes stormy. He slowly allowed my hands to pull back to my sides, and he lifted his brows at me, gradually coming to the same realisation. He seemed confused for a moment, and then he released me.
    “Stay right there.” He pointed at me: a warning. He moved to the door.
    It was quiet outside, and a minute later I heard the front door opening and closing as well. Whoever Miro was, Cabe had already taken him out of the apartment. I moved to the piano bench and slumped down, pushing listlessly at the keys. I’d never accidently zapped a person before. Was he in pain?
    I tried to recall what I had been doing, or what he had been doing, but the memory was off, slightly unfocussed. It took a few minutes for them to return, and when they did, Cabe was almost bouncing off the floor with excitement.
    “Show me!” he demanded.
    Noah was gruff. “I don’t think she even realised, calm down.”
    Cabe made a face, marched to me,