In Deep

by Bailey Bradford

  “Wait, no!” Draven clutched at Titus’ hand.

  Titus’ frown deepened into a scowl. “What’s going on, Draven?”

  “Your total is ten sixty-three,” the cashier said.

  Titus slipped out of Draven grasp. “Pay the man. I’ll be right back.”

  “Titus—”

  “Pay. I’m not going to do anything stupid, just taking a peek. You’ll see me the whole time.”

  “Is there a problem, sir? Sirs?” the cashier asked. He seemed worried and sincere.

  Draven grunted and took out his wallet. “No. No problem.” He handed a twenty over.

  “Okay, sir.”

  Draven kept an eye on Titus, who, true to his word, didn’t walk very far, just enough to peek down the aisle.

  By the time Draven had his change and the grocery bag in hand, Titus was back at his side.

  Neither of them spoke until they were in the car.

  “Did you see him?” Draven asked.

  Titus shook his head. “There was no one down that aisle.”

  Draven started the car as he pondered that. “Could have gone down the next aisle.”

  Titus shrugged. “I didn’t see anyone down that aisle except a pair of elderly ladies. Guess your mystery man could have been standing at the endcap.”

  “He’s not my mystery man,” Draven muttered. “He fucking looked like Andres. Identical to him.”

  Titus had been in the process of buckling his seatbelt, but he stopped and placed one hand on Draven’s right forearm. “He’s here?”

  Draven shook his head. “No, he’s dead. I saw him die, saw the sharks start to— he’s dead. It just threw me to see someone who could be his twin. Andres would have aged over fifty years—he was human. It couldn’t have been him. Had to be my mind playing tricks on me and my body’s alert system overreacted.”

  Titus leaned across and kissed Draven. “We’ve been under a lot of stress. A lot. I don’t think you’re hallucinating, but it must have been someone who resembled Andres enough to trigger your senses. I do believe you saw someone. You were as pale as a ghost when I found you.”

  Pale as a ghost. For some reason, those words stuck a chord of fear in Draven.

  “He looked just like Andres,” Draven reiterated. “I know it wasn’t him. It still fucked with me.”

  “That’s understandable.” Titus reached for his seatbelt again. “It would mess with anyone in that situation.”

  “Yeah. Just…weird.” He wanted to get home, lock the doors and get under the covers with Titus and stay there until he felt safe again.

  It was a ridiculous thing to be experiencing. There was no reason for fear to be clawing at his gut.

  Draven put the car in reverse and glanced in the rearview mirror. He stomped on the brake when a figure walked behind the car. “There! Him, the guy behind us!”

  Titus twisted around to the left, then to the right. “What guy? Where?” He pressed his head against the passenger window. “I don’t—oh. Black hair, to his shoulders or so?”

  Draven felt dizzy as he spotted the man via the rearview mirror. “That’s him.” He blinked, and the man was staring back at him. Everything inside Draven froze. He couldn’t look away.

  “Fuck this.” Titus unbuckled and opened the car door.

  Draven tore his gaze away from the rearview mirror and reached for Titus. “Titus—”

  But Titus was out of the car, and Draven threw the gear into park and unfastened his seatbelt too. He opened the door and got out just in time to see Titus jump back and narrowly miss being hit by a car.

  “Titus!” Draven ran to him and wrapped him in his arms. “Gods be damned, don’t—I can’t lose you!”

  Titus hugged him back. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. That was my fault. The guy is leaving now. Let me—”

  “Let him go. He doesn’t matter.” Draven held Titus as tight as he dared. “You matter. Whoever that man is, or isn’t, doesn’t matter. You. Just you.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “He looked identical to Andres.” Draven shook his head as he peeled the label off his beer. “It was creepy as fuck.”

  Riveen looked from him to Titus. “And he was watching you, or Draven?”

  Titus nodded, mouth pinched tight before he spoke. “He was. Standing in the parking lot, just staring at Draven. Even when I got out of the car and was going to approach him, the man never looked away from Draven. I wanted to go ask him what the hell his problem was.” But Draven had stopped him and asked Titus to let it go.

  Titus still thought he should have followed his instinct and confronted the man.

  “Andres is dead,” Riveen said. He took a long pull of his own beer then set the bottle down. “I saw him. I stayed to make sure of it.”

  Draven blanched. “You stayed and watched?”

  Riveen nodded. “Yup. That fucker needed to be dead. No way he survived having his limbs…er. He’s dead.”

  “Right. Dead.” Draven sighed. “I know that. He was probably staring because I was acting weird. I tried not to, but he threw me off. And he smelled—”

  “Smelled like what?” Titus prodded.

  Draven shook his head. “It’s crazy, just my mind playing tricks on me because of the resemblance. He smelled like…like blood and water and peppermint.” He whispered the last word.

  Titus saw that Draven’s hands were shaking. He straddled Draven’s thighs and took Draven’s hands in his. Draven looked at him, and Titus caught the hint of fear in his expression.

  “Whatever is happening, we’ll get through it,” Titus murmured before dipping his head and kissing Draven’s lips. It was a chaste kiss, not that that fact kept Riveen from whistling and cat calling.

  Titus brushed his lips over Draven’s again, then nuzzled his cheek. “Your brother is as mature as a tween boy.”

  “Hey!” Riveen huffed.

  Draven snickered and released Titus’ hands, then wrapped his arms around Titus. “I think you’re giving him too much credit.”

  “Assholes,” Riveen said. “I was going to offer to buy dinner, but never mind. I’m ordering from Noodle Bowl and having it delivered. Your treat, bro.”

  Draven might have flipped Riveen off—Titus felt him move one hand, and Riveen barked out a laugh.

  Titus wondered, though he didn’t speak the words, if there was some way that Andres could have been reborn or stitched together, something. The way the man in the parking lot had been looking at Draven, that had not been curiosity. If Titus had to guess, he’d say he’d seen anger, lust, hate, and something else, something possessive and greedy in the man’s expression. There’d been a palpable current of something otherworldly in the air.

  But Draven didn’t seem to have noticed, and Titus didn’t want to weird him out, or come across as being dramatic—or worse.

  He kept his mouth shut and as the evening moved on, the mood seemed to lighten. Titus thought the matter of Andres had been dropped until Draven was in the bathroom and Riveen scrambled over to sit by Titus on the couch.

  “Tell me exactly what that fucker at the store looked like,” Riveen demanded in a low voice, his eyes narrowed and anger all but sparking off him. “Hurry up, before Draven gets back!”

  Titus didn’t waste time arguing. He gave Riveen all the details he could in the time that Draven was out of the room.

  Riveen darted back to his seat then leapt up when Draven returned. “So! I think I’m going to go, let you two lovebirds have some time alone. Thanks for the food.” His smile didn’t quite come across as sincere, and Titus saw that Draven was frowning at his brother.

  “What’s going on?” Draven asked, glancing back at Titus.

  Titus shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Riveen sighed as if he were the most put-upon person in the world. “Nothing is going on except I’m horny and want to hit up the club.”

  “That smile of yours is as fake as that excuse,” Draven muttered.

  “Uh, no, it
isn’t,” Riveen retorted, then frowned and rolled his eyes as he exhaled. “I mean, it isn’t a fake excuse, and my smile…well okay. That might not have been full-on-beam, but I’m saving the genuine one for whichever handsome stud I decide to take home tonight.”

  “Riveen—”

  Riveen flapped a hand at Draven. “Nope. I’m out of here, bro. You two have fun. Lots of dirty, sweaty, sexy fun.”

  “Bye,” Titus said. He got up and followed Riveen to the door. He hoped for a moment to ask Riveen what the heck he was up to, but Riveen flashed that smile again and sprinted down the steps without giving Titus the chance to speak.

  “Damn.” Titus locked the door. He turned around and Draven stood. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” Draven replied. “He’s up to something.”

  “He asked me about the guy,” Titus admitted. “While you were in the bathroom. Then he split right after.”

  “Definitely up to something.” Draven walked past Titus and looked out of the window. “He walked here. Bet we can follow him without him noticing.”

  “Do you think he’s going to do something dangerous?” Titus asked, grabbing the house keys off the entryway table.

  Draven snorted and unlocked the door, then opened it. “This is Riveen we’re talking about.”

  Titus followed Draven out the door and locked it. “What happened with Andres? I mean, how did Riveen see…um.”

  Draven cupped Titus’ elbow as they started down the steps. “We had the big confrontation on one of the little islets to the south of here. Andres admitted he’d been trying to sell us out, that he’d suspected I was not entirely human. He pulled a gun on me. Riveen came flying out of the water and tackled Andres. I dove in, and Andres tried to shoot Riveen. I got the gun away from him. He had a knife and he knicked Riveen. I kind of lost it. Someone pulled me off Andres and he got caught in the riptide. Then the sharks came. Not shifters, just sharks. I couldn’t get to Andres. I saw…so much blood. Andres yelled once, and that was all. A few of our cousins had been loitering nearby, waiting and watching. They held me back when I tried to get to Andres. Then they forced me away from the pier.”

  “You couldn’t have saved him,” Titus said.

  Draven swiped his free hand over his face. “I don’t know if I would have. If I’d been given the time to think it over and not act on instinct. Andres wanted to expose my kind, me, my family, to the world. Do you know what would have been done to us?”

  Titus could only imagine, and it wasn’t good. “But Riveen stayed behind and watched.”

  “He says so. I don’t think he’d lie about that,” Draven admitted.

  “There was something unnatural about the man you said looked like Andres,” Titus muttered. “I felt it. Is there any way he could still be alive?”

  “Even if he was still alive, he’d be almost eighty,” Draven responded. “Not young. He was human. He’d have aged.”

  Titus wondered if there were more supernatural beings in the world than even Draven knew about.

  * * * *

  “He’s not going to the club,” Draven muttered as he and Titus trailed behind Riveen. They’d followed him to his place, then waited across the street in the shadows until Riveen had come back outside. “He wouldn’t be wearing all black if he was.”

  “He did dress more…flashy…when he was out dancing,” Titus agreed, sliding his hand in Draven’s. “That looks like a cat-burglar getup.”

  Draven’s gut went cold. Riveen had proven himself to be the more dangerous of the two of them, despite all his joking and party lifestyle. It had been Riveen who’d watched as Andres had been ripped apart by the sharks. Whether or not he could have intervened, Draven would never ask. Riveen was his brother, and he loved him like only a sibling could. The devotion and loyalty were stronger than any differences they’d ever have.

  “I can’t see him,” Titus whispered, squinting in the direction Riveen had gone.

  Draven could see him. “He’s heading back the way we came. Maybe he’s going to turn off somewhere else.” He and Titus slipped out of the shadows and began following Riveen.

  Minutes later, Draven cursed as Riveen parked himself in the copse of palm trees across from Draven’s home. “He’s watching out for us.”

  “He thinks someone is coming for us,” Titus pointed out. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here. Who does he think is coming for us?”

  Draven grunted because he honestly didn’t know. Except, it couldn’t be Andres. “Andres is dead.”

  “Is he?” Titus asked, turning to face Draven.

  Draven frowned at him. “Yes, he is. Riveen wouldn’t lie about that.”

  Titus shook his head. “I don’t think he’d lie but…but what happens to a person after they die?”

  Draven blinked. “What?”

  “What happens to a person after they die?” Titus repeated. “I never thought much about it. I don’t like thinking about death, but that guy stared at you like he wanted to do something to you. I’m not sure what. That isn’t the way a stranger generally ogles someone. It was very…intense. I’ve been thinking about it. It was like he knew you.”

  Draven didn’t know what happened to people when they died. He’d always just assumed they were dead and gone. Heaven and hell had never been real places to him. He shivered as he remembered the man in the parking lot. “He looked identical to Andres. Identical.”

  Titus bit his bottom lip then released it. “Could he have been something more than human?”

  Titus’ cheeks went ruddy when he asked the question.

  Draven mulled it over. “I—I had a limited education,” he finally said. “Limited environment. My kind didn’t hang out with humans until the last century, not that I know of, anyway. Too many torch-bearing, pitchfork-wielding angry people about. For that matter, I don’t know much about our own history.”

  “Would Riveen know anything?”

  “I doubt it. We were taught together,” Draven explained. “More about survival than anything else. Reading and writing were things we didn’t learn until we were almost adults. Working in this world was never an issue. Sunken ships provided a lot of, hmm…income stability over the centuries. That much I do know.”

  “You two are loud enough to wake the dead.”

  Draven bit back a yelp of surprise. Titus didn’t. They both spun around to find Riveen snickering.

  “Seriously, I heard you while we were heading back here,” Riveen said. “And, um, let me just point out, if you were spying on me…you lost track of me, and here I am—ta-da!”

  Titus groaned softly and covered his face with his hands. “I suck at this.”

  Riveen patted his back. “Don’t feel bad. You both suck at stalking.”

  Draven opened his mouth to argue, but Riveen was right. Instead, he asked, “How much of our conversation did you hear?”

  Riveen shrugged. “A lot. I don’t know much of shifter history, either. We just were never taught it, and maybe there’s a reason for that.”

  Titus had lowered his hands. He looked at Riveen. “Could Andres be back? Reincarnated? Or maybe he wasn’t strictly human? Or human at all?”

  Another shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, if he looks exactly like Andres, and he was staring like y’all said…” Riveen shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s not right. Something fucked up is going on, and I’m worried, so I want to keep an eye out, preferably without everyone and their mama knowing I’m doing it, so, you know. If you two would just…scoot along? Go have sex or something.”

  Draven shook his head. “No. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

  “Yeah. This involves us,” Titus said.

  “But you both suck balls at surveillance. And I don’t mean that in a good way. Can’t you just help by being the bait?” Riveen asked.

  “Bait?” Draven didn’t like that at all. “No, we aren’t going to be bait. I don’t want Titus in danger.”

&nbs
p; “But I’m in danger anyway,” Titus pointed out. “As evidenced by what happened to my house.”

  “Double danger,” Riveen added, nodding. “From that psycho ex and from the revived-from-the-dead Andres.”

  “It can’t be him,” Draven protested even as his gut went colder.

  “Stranger things…” Riveen trailed off with a scowl. “I don’t know the rest of that saying, but the point is, we don’t know everything. Why wouldn’t there be other supernatural beings in the world besides shifters? Or how can we say, without a doubt, that reincarnation isn’t a thing? I know one hundred percent that the Andres who betrayed you died. There was no chance he survived. If he’s back, then, well, it stands to reason he is either a supernatural being or he was reincarnated and can either access his memories of past lives, or maybe you were just really familiar to him.”

  “Fuck.” Draven didn’t know what to think. “I—”

  A loud popping sound distracted him, and he glanced toward it.

  Titus gasped. “Your house is on fire!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Huddled with Draven on the couch at Riveen’s place, Titus wrestled with the anger pressing down on him. Draven had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, and Titus didn’t want to wake him, not even long enough to get him into the bed in the guest room. Draven had been—understandably—distressed over the loss of his home. Almost twenty-four hours later, he was getting the first sleep he’d had in days.

  Titus wasn’t able to join him in that possibly blissful escape. Someone had torched Draven’s home. By the time he, Draven and Riveen had crossed the street, the entire property had been engulfed in flames. Even the staircases had been burning, and once the fire department had done what they could, nothing much was left besides ashes, melted lumps of appliances and a few torched beams.

  That it had been arson surprised no one.

  Titus’ first inclination had been to think Joel had found him, but after the weirdness of the maybe-Andres thing, he wasn’t certain at all that Joel had been the arsonist. A call to Deputy Martinez hadn’t helped Titus to decide one way or the other about who might have started the fire.