Surviving Today
Page 27
“I am a chaos demon, yes.” At her snort of disbelief, he sighed. “Fine, I am the ruler of all chaos demons, their leader, their Prince. I have reformed my evil ways, you know.”
“Leopards aren’t really known to change their spots.”
“Neither is your kind, yet here you are.”
Crap. He had her there.
He stood up straight, arching his other eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one bitching that you needed a break from him? From them all?”
Shanna switched legs. “That doesn’t mean I trust him at a party you threw. I know you too well. And I sure as hell don’t trust him with you if there were girls around. So, how many nymphs did you happen to invite last night?”
He ignored her question, pulling his left arm across his chest. “Thanks, I think. Wait. You don’t trust him, yet you won’t tell him about your friendship with me. You sneak out to meet me. Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?”
She shook her head, dropping her leg. “Nope. I’m not romantically or sexually attracted to you.”
“Ouch. So much for my ego.”
“You’ll survive.”
“You know, there was a time where…”
Shanna rolled her eyes. “And, it’s time to get this party started so I can get some sleep.”
Patrick laughed as he led the way down the winding staircase to the basement gym.
“That was one time, Lanthani. One time I will never live down,” she muttered as she followed him.
Shanna woke up to an unfamiliar beeping sound. She groaned, pulled the blanket over her head, and rolled over.
Thud!
She hit the floor hard. She groggily rubbed her butt as she pulled herself up into a standing position.
“Nice, Corelsand. I give the landing a solid eight.”
“Glad you’re amused,” she muttered, rubbing her elbow where it had connected with the metal frame of the bed during her not so graceful landing. She froze in mid rub. “What time is it?”
Patrick smiled. “Three in the morning.” At her confused look, he added, “You crashed face first on the bed while I was showering. I decided to let you sleep and set the alarm.”
“No voodoo involved, right?”
Patrick blew out a long breath, rolled his eyes, and shot her a look. “Shanna, I have never once, in all the years we’ve known one another in this life cycle, used my ‘voodoo’ on you.” He held up a hand to stop her next protest. “I used magic to level the field that night, but I have never used any of my powers to get you to do my bidding or to try and control you in any way. You always have complete and utter control around me. After all these centuries, you should know me better than that.”
“That’s the problem,” she mumbled. “I know you too well.”
“You’re not exactly a saint, you know.”
Shanna groaned. “Thanks for letting me sleep, but I’m still a dead girl walking.”
Patrick pointed at the mirror above the dresser in front of them. “Especially if you go home looking like that.” He tossed her a towel. “Go get cleaned up. You drool in your sleep. It’s so cute.”
Shanna wiped the corner of her mouth, turned to look in the mirror, and screamed.
His laughter followed her into the bathroom.
The light flipped on the moment Shanna stepped into her room.
Crap.
She blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness. D was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his bare chest, a pissed of look on his face.
She took a second to take in how cute he looked with bedhead, how sexy his muscular chest was, and to take in the fact that he was wearing a pair of green sweatpants with “Irish” down one side of them in gold lettering.
“Is there any particular reason my girlfriend—my fifteen-year-old girlfriend—is sneaking into the house at three-thirty-five in the morning?” he asked evenly, his jaw clenched so tight she thought it was going to shatter into millions of pieces.
Shanna shrugged out of her jacket, throwing it on her desk. “Couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run. Am I grounded Daddy?”
She had thought of the lie just in case. It wasn’t like she had slept with the chaos demon. She had just fallen asleep at his cabin, after sneaking off to workout with him, without her boyfriend knowing about it.
Yeah, see, she really wasn’t helping her own case.
It should be simple enough to explain. No harm, no foul, right?
Yeah, right. She was suddenly Mother Theresa.
She was exhausted and not legally accountable for what might or might not escape her already thin brain-to-mouth filter.
“Do I look like I was born yesterday?” he demanded.
“Do you really want me to answer that on three hours, none of which happens to be consecutive, of sleep?”
“I swear to God, when I find out who this other guy is, I’m going to rip him apart with my bare hands.”
“Good luck with that one.”
“Excuse me?”
She sighed. “Goodnight, honey. See you in a few hours.”
“We will talk about this later, young lady. Get some sleep.”
Shanna saluted. “Yes, sir? Anything else, sir?” At the look he shot her, she collapsed onto the bed with a groan. “Do we have to?”
D stopped at the door, his hand on the light switch. “This is your last freebie. Next time we’re done for good. You need to decide if he’s really worth that being an option.”
She knew she should keep her stupid mouth shut, but lack of sleep and emotional exhaustion left a lot to desire in the brain-to-mouth department.
At least, that was the story she was going with.
“Why one more chance?”
He smiled as he flipped the switch, encasing the room in darkness. “Seeing as you were raped five months ago, not to mention you flinch every time a member of the male species comes near you in a more than friend capacity… Well, I honestly don’t think you cheating on me is an option at this particular point in time. Am I wrong?”
“Nope,” she responded immediately.
Hmmm…
That was some damn good logic on his end.
CHAPTER 33
August 2015
Montana
Screwed.
That was what Derrick was. He hadn’t missed that PMP that was sent out earlier. He had felt every excruciating moment of its travels through his brain waves.
What did it feel like?
Well, imagine a Slipknot concert—or any heavy metal band you know or like. Now host the mosh pit in your head. That about covered the pounding that reverberated through his skull. Hangovers looked like a gift from God compared to a pulse wave—psychic, magnetic, or basic.
He also knew that whomever had been powerful enough to pull a wave of that magnitude off…well, they now knew his dirty little secret. He wouldn’t being freaking out about that detail so much if he hadn’t sensed that the wave had come from right here on this farm of crazy people.
If someone here knew even the smallest detail about his secret, then ten to one that cat was completely out of the bag and dancing the jig throughout the farm.
If there was one superhuman around—excluding himself, obviously—on the farm, logic dictated that a few, if not all of the others, were also superhuman.
Wait. That actually explained a lot about his girlfriend…
Yeah, about Megan. She was currently MIA from their room.
She had been there, curled up next to him when he’d fallen asleep. She had still been there a short while ago when he had rolled over and accidently smacked her in the face.
And then poof she was gone.
He swore to God she vanished into thin air.
Okay, so it was highly possible that she had snuck out while he was snoring like a freight train headed for the great party in Dreamland, but she had been more exhausted them him. She could barely move by the time she had crawled into bed.
Once Derrick had realized Megan had vanished, he didn
’t go knocking on people’s bedroom doors asking if they had seen her. He didn’t even search the grounds. He knew he didn’t have to. Something told him all he had to do was knock on Scott’s door and The Mystery of the Vanishing Girlfriend would be solved.
So that was how he currently found himself pounding impatiently on Scott’s door. He should be trying to figure out how to make a graceful exit from this freak magnet of a farm without throwing suspicion on himself, but no. Instead he was hunting down his girlfriend who had more secrets than the entire U.S. government.
Deciding that he was done waiting for an answer, he tried the knob. It twisted easily and the door swung open. That was a good sign at least.
He stepped into the darkened room. The curtains covering the only window in the room were heavy, but a few stray rays of early morning sunlight made it into the room. It was enough to see around the room.
Derrick found Megan passed out in the middle of the double bed, buried under the covers, her dark hair fanning out around her face. She looked peaceful. He should be mad. He wasn’t though. He had known he would find her here.
He was starting to realize that, while he hadn’t shared some key points about his life with her, she had more than a few things she’d kept from him.
By day’s end, though, he would find out what her relationship to Scott really was. He wasn’t buying the current sales pitch they were trying to hook him with. There was something more significant going on here. Something that was going to break his heart. He could feel it deep in his bones.
Speaking of his lying, no good best friend—yes, he was a hypocrite, hear him roar—where the hell was he? Megan was definitely alone in the bed.
He caught something shift on the floor underneath the window out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to find Scott passed out cold, spread eagle on his back, on top of a sleeping bag.
He heard something hit the wall on the other side of the bed. It was followed by muffled swearing.
Derrick took a few steps to the left to find Julian sitting up on a pile of blankets, rubbing his elbow and looking a bit confused.
“What time is it?” he mumbled in a slurred voice.
Derrick pulled his phone from his back pocket, glancing down at the screen. “A little after eight in the morning. What are you doing in here?”
Julian scratched his chest, yawning. “Must have fallen asleep while talking.”
“What were the three of you discussing?”
Julian untangled himself from his blankets and stood up. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Actually, I would. Which is why I asked.”
“Stop being an ass, Lavi.” Scott sat up and stretched.
Derrick spun around to face his best friend. “Let’s see here. My girlfriend is asleep in your bed when she should be in my bed. Sorry if I’m not exactly a ball of freaking sunshine right now.”
“Do you see me in bed with her?” Scott demanded as he jumped to his feet. “I’m all the way across the room, on the floor, for Christ sake.”
“That really doesn’t make me feel any better. While I was pounding on the door, you had plenty of time to move onto the floor,” Derrick returned.
“He’s got you there,” Julian said, pulling his shirt over his head.
“Shut up, Julian,” Megan groaned from the bed, throwing a pillow at his head. “You are so not helping.”
Julian laughed, ducking the projectile. It crashed into the closet doors behind him.
“I’m just saying. The man has a valid point. No need to try and take my head off for it.”
Before Derrick could respond or blow a gasket, all three of their cell phones went off.
They all looked at one another, groaning in unison. Without looking at their phones, they moved as a unit.
Megan rolled off the bed, landing fluidly on her feet. Julian threw her a brush and a pair of jeans. She quickly changed into the jeans as Scott changed into a pair of tan cargo pants. While Julian started folding blankets, Megan started brushing out her long, tangled mass of curls.
By the time she had her hair in a ponytail, they were all standing at the door looking at Derrick expectantly.
“Ready?” Julian asked.
What the hell? What just happened?
“Uh, yeah,” Derrick answered. “Where are we headed?”
“The barn,” Scott explained as they made their way out of the room.
“Our presence has been requested,” Megan said as she led them down the hallway towards the stairs.
“How do you all know that if none of you so much as glanced at your phones? Are you psychic or something?”
There was silence as they made their way down the stairs.
“We’d been waiting for the texts,” Julian pulled out of nowhere as they entered the kitchen.
Corbin looked up from the kitchen table, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “Interesting,” he said under his breath. “Anyway, uh, guys, before you all make a beeline for the barn, there’s someone you should probably see.”
They all stopped just inside the door, looking at him expectantly.
“Hey! Over here guys. Yeah, that’s right. He’s talking about me.”
“How the hell did you get free?” Scott demanded, rubbing his temples.
The dark haired man arched an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest as he crossed his ankles, propping a shoulder against the door jamb leading to the living room. “Did you really think that pathetic attempt at containment was honestly going to hold me? Besides, I’m not your biggest issue at the moment.”
“Well, I was kinda hoping, yeah,” Scott mumbled, dropping into the nearest chair. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.
Corbin looked back and forth between the two men like he was at tennis match. “I’m lost…” His jaw dropped. “You didn’t!”
Julian scrubbed a hand over his face. “I guess I missed something major after I got shot. Do I even want to know? Or is this another ‘I’ll explain later’ situation like earlier, Nox?”
Megan looked at Scott. “I…uh…well… Crap.” She looked from Scott to Corbin, then back to Scott. “I probably should have said something.” She looked back to Corbin. “Wait. It’s not like people in this group are particularly attached to the truth or anything.” She turned her narrowed eyes to Julian. “Right?”
“Wait.” Derrick make a rewind motion with his hands. “Back this train up. You were shot? When the crap did that happen?”
Julian suddenly looked nervous. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, never mind. It was a stupid question. Let’s put the spotlight back on Megan and her drama. I’m more comfortable with that.”
“Traitor.”
“Damn straight, Nox.”
“Wow, some things really never do change.” The guy no one had called by name or introduced to Derrick studied Megan. “You look like shit, Megs. I really hope you got the license plate of the truck that hit you.”
“You sure do know how to sweet talk a girl, Logan. You being single is really a conundrum with game like that. You’re right, some things really never change.” She glared at the man now identified simply as Logan.
Derrick took a second to size him up. Logan was an inch or two shorter than him. He had dark brown hair and eyes a shade or two lighter than Megan’s. He was dressed in black tactical cargo pants and a black T-shirt.
“What? You can’t say I’ve ever been anything but honest with you.” Logan shrugged.
“Yeah, you’re a real pillar of the truth community there, Logan,” she muttered. “And no. I didn’t get the license plate of the Mack truck that ran me over. This is what happens when experimental drugs, no sleep, and me being kidnapped and dragged kicking and screaming back into the Nightmare on Elm Street overlap one another.”
“So, which one of us is Freddy Krueger?” Corbin asked.
“Do you really want the answer to that?”
“You said it a bit
nicer than I did,” Scott said to Logan. “I sort of told her she looked like she crawled in a fifth of Jack and died.”
“Nah, man. I’ve seen her after a round or two with Mr. Jack Daniels. She looked ten times better than she does now,” Julian contributed to the conversation.
“Look you little Gremlin’s. Yes, I went there. You all can kiss my ass. I’m sorry I don’t look like Angelina Jolie after waking up from an eight hour hellish acid like trip through my own overactive mind and then immediately having to go into superhero mode and save all of your sorry asses.” She glared at them. “You’re all freaking welcome, by the way.
“Then there was the whole after party in my bed…head…sub…oh, screw it,” she continued to ramble. “There was the whole impromptu meeting thing. Then there was the dream thing…” She cleared her throat, taking a break from the sudden rush of words, a slight blush creeping up her neck. “And, we can’t forget the awesome waking up in Scott’s room…Derrick knocking on the door… Damn it, I know I look like hell, but there is no need to freaking rub it in my face! I’m not a dog that did something wrong! And I swear to God, if you do not change the subject, none of you will leave this room alive.”
They blinked at her, their jaws hanging open in surprise.
“I think you may need to take a chill pill there, Megs.” Logan pushed himself off the wall, worry crossing his face as he held his hands out in peace. “You need to calm down. Now.”
“I’m trying, Piperel. Believe me.”
Ah, so the man did have a last name. Excellent.
Logan looked a Scott, mild panic in his eyes. “Now might be a good time to get Derrick out of here, Scott.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Rick, Logan. I have a sneaking suspicion he’ll be just fine and can hold his own,” Corbin said from his spot at the kitchen table. He calmly took a sip of whatever was in the cup in his hand, his eyes meeting Derrick’s.
He knows.
Scott shot Corbin a nasty look. “Now’s not the time, Evans.”
What? Scott knew?