Oh my god... I was pretty sure I screamed that several times out loud, but I wasn’t paying attention to any of the words or noises that erupted from me. I wasn’t even sure I stayed in this universe.
But reality loomed, waiting for us, knocking on the car door for us to let it in. Literally. A few minutes after Ryker made me cry out, I heard a knock against the Chevelle.
“Bhean?”
“What do you want, furball?” Ryker sighed, sitting up.
“I said Bhean, not seal clubber.”
“What do you want, Sprig?” I curled up, leaning my bare chest into Ryker’s shoulder. Our clothes were far away, scattered across the room.
Being fae, neither Ryker nor Sprig thought twice about nudity, but I still held a human bashfulness, which seemed silly since many strangers had seen me naked at DMG when they ran tests on me for two weeks. But now my shyness wasn’t just about being undressed; it was why we were naked, and the fact they probably heard us quite clearly.
“Well, I wanted to let you know Purple Dumpling is gone.”
Ryker leaned his head back, his hand rubbing my knee. “Not really surprised.”
I felt a tiny rush of guilt for Amara. “Do you know when she left?”
“No. I woke up and she wasn’t here,” he replied. “And what happened to the assprick and Leanbh? I woke up and no one was here. I would have thought you left me, but then I heard the sound of rutting pigs and—”
“Okay, thanks, Sprig. We’ll be out in a moment.” I cut him off, laying my temple on the back of the seat, looking at Ryker. He turned his head, staring back.
“We aren’t especially nice.”
“Don’t think for one moment she wouldn’t have done the same or worse.”
I felt briefly nauseated at the thought of Amara naked in the car with Ryker instead of me.
“Don’t.” He tilted forward and kissed me, then lifted his head, reaching for the door handle. “Come on. Time to deal with shit.” He opened the door and climbed out, stretching his arms up to the sky, unabashed. Nor should he be ashamed with that physique.
I climbed out of the car behind Ryker, Sprig already gone.
Ryker swung around, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me to him. “Whatever is ahead, we’ll deal with it. We will rescue your sister and Annabeth.”
“And Croygen?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“If we have to.”
I smiled, rising on my toes and kissing him. “Wherever we go, can we be sure it has a shower? I feel extremely dirty.”
“Just the way I like you.” He grinned. I had never seen him smile so much. It made my heart patter. “Though you literally have grease and oil marks all over you. What did you do to get that one there? Or the tire marks across your stomach?” His eyebrows shot up in mock wonder.
I smacked his ass and stepped out of his hold, going for my clothes. He went to grab his discarded jeans in the corner.
“Where are my boots? Do you see them over there?” I searched the space for my shoes, finding my bra on a carburetor.
“Got them,” he responded from the corner, pulling up his jeans.
We had our night—and morning—in a bubble, and now it was late morning. But I couldn’t push away the face of my sister or the tears in Annabeth’s eyes.
The night was long gone, and we needed to focus on what was really important.
What loomed ahead was frightening and overwhelming, but there wasn’t a choice.
Lives depended on me.
FIFTEEN
“Where did all the honey go?” Sprig dug through the box on the table when I ventured out of the room, mostly dressed.
“You ate it all.” I ran my fingers through my hair, knotting it up in a bun. I seriously needed a shower. I knew I smelled of sweat, sex, and motor oil.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“There were ten packets left. You never allow me more than three.”
“You don’t remember.” He sometimes lost bits of time before he went into one of his honey frenzies. “Croygen and Lexie fed them all to you, so you’d pass out.”
“Why?”
I conveyed to him everything that happened while he had been out, that they wanted him to go to sleep so they could sneak out on him.
His mouth hung open. “They tricked me?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“But all my honey is gone, and I don’t even remember eating it.”
“We’ll get you more.” Ryker came beside me, handing me my boots.
Sprig’s face lit up as he licked his lips. “It’s way past breakfast. I need to catch up. Can we get breakfast and lunch?”
“You mean brunch?” I said, slipping my feet into my shoes, tying them up.
“Nooooo.” He looked aghast at my question. “Brunch is still only one meal.”
“We’ll see.” I touched my head, a sudden thumping began in my skull.
“I ate my breakfast like a good boy.” Ryker smirked, looking at me intently. “It tasted delicious.”
Heat flamed my cheeks, burning my face.
“Wha-what?” Sprig stood up on his hind legs. “You ate without me?”
“Sorry, buddy. It was too tasty to stop.”
“Oh my god.” I put my face in my palms.
“Is he intercoursing with me, Bhean?” Sprig looked between us.
I groaned louder, which caused Ryker to chuckle.
“You better not be intercoursing with me, Viking, or I will fart on your face in the middle of the night.”
“Now, that’s territory I haven’t gone to before.”
“Okay. Stop.” I held up my hands, then pointed at Sprig. “You, stop talking. And you.” I narrowed my lids on Ryker. “You just stop.”
His mischievous smile forced me to inhale and glance up at the ceiling, gathering strength.
“Right now we are going to get our shit together, get something to eat, and move to a different location where we will plan what to do next. On the way, we will try to find Amara,” I stated firmly. “All right?”
“Can I have more to ea—?”
“Zip it!” I cut off Ryker, holding my fingers together. “I didn’t say you could open your mouth.”
He arched a brow.
“Not. A. Word.” I knew where his mind went because mine was already there.
He ran his hand over his mouth and chuckled.
“Now, do you have any idea where Amara would go, and should we be concerned she’s gone?”
“Amara,” a woman’s voice spoke behind me, “didn’t need to hear her former lover and his new girlfriend fucking each other’s brains out all night.”
I whirled around to see Amara leaning against the doorjamb, holding a white paper bag in her hand. Her expression was anything but teasing. “So I went for a walk. Then I thought on my way back to grab something to eat for everyone.”
My jaw went slack, and Sprig sat back on his hindquarters, eyes wide.
She ignored our expressions and walked to the table, tossing a bag of doughnuts on it. Sometimes people could surprise you.
I had to admit I wouldn’t have done something like that. I probably wouldn’t have come back. In that moment I realized how alone Amara really was. How painful it had to be for her to stay with us. She no longer had Ryker as a boyfriend, but she still clung to him. He was the only thing she had left. I didn’t really like her or trust her, but I couldn’t deny my heart softened toward her right then.
It could have easily been me in Amara’s shoes, the one who had to watch and listen. “I’m sorry,” I whispered so softly only she could hear me.
Her eyes darted to mine, then away. She pushed back her shoulders and continued laying out the containers.
It wasn’t a truce or even close. But I took it.
####
Today was one of those gorgeous fall days, but typical of this area a hint of change was in the air as clouds gathered in the distance, indicating an impending storm. Autumn
in the Pacific Northwest jumbled sunny and cloudy days like a blender.
Even in the crisp afternoon my black hoodie became a sauna. Beads of sweat trickled down my back. I wanted to rip it off, peel it away from my hot, sticky skin, but it was the only protection I had to keep from being noticed. Crowds of people swarmed around me creating a thicker cocoon of heat, sharpening my headache. My body trembled, showing the signs of withdrawal, which I recognized more and more after the stone gave me a boost. I hadn’t realized I took so much of a hit from it the night before.
The city had blocked off several streets and opened it to a huge farmers’ market for people to buy, sell, or trade goods. Citizens of Seattle and the surrounding areas were getting back on their feet, lifting us back into the land of the living. Stands and tents dotted the area along with the food trucks, offering anything from herbal medicines to clothes. People also offered their services, like carpentry or physical labor, for room and board. I heard many of the hospitals reopened and that much of the electricity had been restored. The city still bore scars, and the already bulging homeless problem had tripled.
Tempting odors from the food trucks pervaded the streets and caused my empty stomach to growl. Lines curled and weaved around the entire area, hindering the people trying to walk through.
The smell of Mexican food drifted over to me, reminding me of my hollow stomach. I had barely eaten what Amara had brought back to us, my stomach queasy. Dying had also rattled my system a bit. Go figure. I really needed to stop dying. It messed up my day and only contributed to the monster-size headache, jittery, restless, and irritable feeling. The only thing bringing a smile to my face and a flush to my cheeks was Ryker, along with the memories of what we did and how he felt.
Damn. Another round of desire ran through me like a drunken squirrel, my stare drilling into the massive hooded figure a dozen yards away. And as if he could sense my gaze, his neck twisted back, his white irises narrowing straight on me. Our eyes connected briefly, but I sensed the intensity, the unspoken words. The promise for more to come. He turned back, snaking through the cluster of bodies, his shoulders tense and alert.
I could sense that Ryker wanted to get away. He didn’t feel safe this close to so many humans. Even though my sight picked up a lot of fae around, it was better to hide in the masses than stand out on our own. Also lifting goods from the vendors came easy to me. Each stolen item smacked on Sprig’s head as it plopped in my bag.
“Bhean, if you’re going to have it rain food, make it something softer,” he hissed at me through my messenger bag. He sat at the bottom, holding his honey jar backpack with Pam inside.
“Like honey?” I mumbled back.
“I swear you can read my mind.”
I tossed in another pinched item.
“Ugh, fairy farts, is that a banana?”
“Shush.”
I glanced over the crowd, keeping the large Viking in my view. The three of us spread out because we were too noticeable moving together. Ryker led us, while Amara brought up the rear. Having her watch my back was not terribly comfortable for me, but Ryker demanded I be in the middle. I hoped it was because of the stone I carried and not because he was being an overbearing caveman.
Right.
Nudging through the gaps, I already felt edgy, but I kept fighting the feeling of being watched. A strange chill skated over my spine and stabbed at the base of my neck. My head jerked around, and I searched for the source, following the line of trees shading the area behind the food trucks. The pull of someone’s intense gaze dragged my focus to a space between a large shrub and truck.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Dark, beady eyes cut through the people, ramming into me. A gasp pelted from my lungs. A lanky man stood there, with scraggy, long, dark hair and beard, looking like he could be one of the homeless. But the puckered scar zigzagging down his face knotted my airways.
I blinked. A scream built in my chest.
A body slammed into my shoulder, tripping me. Hands shot out and grabbed me, keeping me upright. He was taller than me and built, but the baseball hat dipped low over the man’s brow and kept his face obstructed from view.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, a hint of an accent sprang off the one word before he slipped by me. My gaze trailed after him, but the crowd quickly absorbed his large frame. I spun back to where I spotted the other man.
The location looked empty.
I scanned the space, looking for a hint of who I thought I saw.
“Hey, what’s the holdup?” Amara reached me, her voice low. “Who are you looking for?”
“N-no one.” I pushed myself forward, the familiar scarred face flashing in my mind.
There’s no way. It was just stress and tension creating paranoia that we were being hunted by everyone. Old and new.
But Arlo’s face and the memory of the last time we saw him in Peru stuck in my mind...
Arlo held a lot of resentment toward Ryker, and I’d brought him a great deal of humiliation when I beat him up in front of his men. Would it drive him to the far edges of the earth to seek revenge?
####
Ryker found a rundown motel away from the main thoroughfare in an area called Atlantic. It reminded me of where he took me the first night he caught me when he tied me to the bathtub. Now if he did, I would want him to.
Amara glamoured the front clerk to give us a room in back then forget he ever saw us. She was the only one who could control her powers right now. Ryker and I were too sporadic to rely on.
“Shower!” Amara was the first to dart for the bathroom. I placed my bag on the table, taking Sprig out. He had broken into the stolen candied walnuts and ate half the bag before passing out. Sugared chunks stuck to his hands, tail, and face. I brushed off what I could before setting him on a pillow.
“How are you feeling?” Ryker sidled up behind me, putting his hands on my hips.
“Crappy.” I leaned back into him.
“Not surprised. I really should have forced you to sleep last night. Your system needs to recover after injury.”
I twisted to face him. “You mean after dying.”
He frowned.
“But, hey, look at the positive side. You don’t want to kill me anymore.”
He half smiled.
“True.” He unzipped my jacket, pulling the hood off my head. “But now I want to do other things to you.”
He kissed my neck.
We both knew it wasn’t only my “death” which had me restless and fevered. But after our last fight, neither of us wanted to bring up the stone.
“I thought I saw Arlo at the market.”
His body went rigid. “What?”
“I swear I saw him behind one of the food trucks.” I rubbed my aching head. “Maybe it’s lack of food and sleep affecting my brain.”
“Arlo?” Ryker’s grip on my waist constricted. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” My arms dropped. “No. It happened so fast. He was there, then he was gone. I’m probably just imagining things.”
Ryker sucked in a deep breath. “Maybe, but it’s still good to be on guard.”
“As if we don’t already have enough people gunning for us.” I heard the water in the bathroom turn on. I so wanted, needed, a shower. “Do you think he would track us down?”
“Yes,” Ryker responded quickly. “We embarrassed him. Fae kill each other for a lot less. Between his hatred and wanting the stone, I have no doubt he’d come for us. I should have killed him when I had the chance. Teaches me to be nice.”
“You?” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Fine. I could have let you finish him off.” He smirked, leaning over, grazing my ear. “But Arlo is the least of our problems. I’ll be on the lookout, but he’s the last thing I’m worried about right now. Not on my radar.”
“Oh?” I grabbed his sweatshirt, his breath tickling my neck. I knew one thing which would help me feel better. “And what’s on your radar?”
“Right this moment
?” Ryker moved slowly to my breastbone. “You.”
I smiled, whispering low. “We have at least eight to ten minutes before Amara gets out.”
“Not enough for what I really want to do, but I can work with it.” He hooked his hands in the shoulders of my hoodie, pushing it slowly over my arms. He tugged at fabric, drawing my arms out of it, and tossed it on the bed next to us.
A flicker of off-white fell out of the pocket and fluttered to the floor. I looked down at it.
“What?” Ryker noticed he no longer had my attention.
I bent over and picked up the item. It was a thick, parchment type of paper folded neatly several times.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t in my pocket earlier.” I peered up at him. “You leaving me love notes now?”
Ryker laughed. “Do I look like the love-note type?” He took a small step back. “I’d much rather show you than write about it.”
“Me too.” I grinned at him before turning back to the note, unfolding it slowly. Cursive scrolled over the page. It looked to me like male handwriting. Both the parchment and handwriting looked old fashioned, like he learned penmanship back in Shakespeare’s day.
Tomorrow night. Sunset. I have imperative information. Near Chittenden Locks. Your companion will know the place. Be sure you are not followed.
My eyes went up to Ryker’s, his gaze still roaming over the page.
“Imperative information?” Ryker took it from my fingers, rereading it. “Who put this in your pocket? Who could have known where to find you?”
“I don’t know.” I pushed past Ryker, needing to move my feet. “I get this note and think I see Arlo. Is that just a coincidence?”
“This is not Arlo’s style.” Ryker rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Not sure he even knows the word imperative. And he’s not one to plan. He just slinks in on someone else’s raid and steals it.”
“Then who else?” I tossed up my arms with irritation. “It’s not like we have a lot of people on our side.”
“Do we have any?”
From Burning Ashes (Collector Series #4) Page 18
