by Mary Martel
“What are you doing here?” he asked Quinton in a quiet voice.
He seemed genuinely surprised to see me. What were we doing here indeed? I wanted to give Quinton the stink eye but didn’t bother because I figured it would be lost on him. His dirty looks were far superior to anything I might be able to conjure up.
I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off of Dash’s ghostly pale legs. Did he have anything on under that robe? I shook my head. I didn’t need to know.
“If I had known you were bringing her here, I would have put some clothes on, damn it,” Dash grumbled. “Make yourself at home, Ariel. I’ll be right back,” he said without looking at me and then he and his fancy black robe disappeared into the house.
Quinton pushed past me and moved into the house. He looked at ease, relaxed. How dare he be relaxed when I was anything but.
I followed him into the house reluctantly.
He sighed heavily as he shut the door behind us. “What’s the matter with you now, Ariel? You’re frowning again. Why are you always frowning? Your life isn’t really so terrible at the moment that you feel the need to frown all the time, is it? If you’re not careful you are going to end up with permanent wrinkles.”
He was insane. That’s all there was to say. He should have told Dash we were coming, at the very least. And, honestly, I think he frowned more than I did. He was always so serious, so scary. Which meant he had no room to talk.
“I think my presence at his home has made him uncomfortable,” I told Quinton. “I have no desire to make anyone feel uncomfortable, Quinton.”
And, for goodness sakes, you should have called ahead to tell him you were bringing me here.”
“Ariel, Ariel, Ariel,” Quinton said, groaning. “You need to learn to take that stick out of your ass every now and then, and you need to relax.”
My mouth dropped open.
Oh no, he did not just say that to me.
I was going to kill him.
“Quinton,” I said slowly, making sure he heard every word I had to say. “If you don’t shut your stupid mouth right this second, I am going to super glue your lips shut while you are sleeping. I might even stuff something in there before I do it, too. Something that will leave a bad taste in your mouth for all of eternity. Something you might even choke on. Like a turd. Then, I’m going to super glue your lips shut. Honestly, of all the nerve. And you seriously expect me to want to hang around so I can what, put up with all of your bullshit? I don’t think so. Fuck that. You’re crazy.”
I shook my head and muttered angrily, “Stick up my ass. I’m so sure. What a dickhole thing to say to someone.”
“Wow,” Dash said from close behind me. “She’s swearing. The twins say she rarely swears. What did you do to her?”
I whirled around to find Dash standing not a foot away from me. I hadn’t heard him creep up on me. Something to remember, Dash was apparently light on his feet. Good to know.
And, he was a fast dresser too.
He’d put on black cargo pants, the kind with pockets on the side. He had on a white, V-neck t-shirt covered with an unbuttoned black and gray long-sleeved flannel. He’d forgot to put socks on. They all seemed to forget about socks.
His head tilted to the side as he studied me. I could just imagine what he saw. A crazy girl with cheeks flushed from anger with a squinty eyed look on her face. Not a pretty picture. Weirdly, he didn’t look appalled. He looked serious, but then again, I was pretty sure that’s how he always looked. But I was surprised to see a hint of curiosity on his face that matched his voice when he asked Quinton what he’d done to me.
Without taking my eyes off of Dash, I pointed behind me, in Quinton’s direction, and hissed, “He thinks I have a stick up my ass. Do you think I have a stick up my ass?”
“What I think,” Quinton said, “is that it would be unwise for me to answer that question.”
“What?” I hissed angrily.
Dash thought I had a stick up my ass, too!
Quinton started laughing.
“To be fair,” Quinton mused when he stopped laughing, “telling someone you’re going to super glue their mouth shut after you put a turd in there makes you seem a whole lot less uptight.”
“I thought Tyson said she was shy and quiet?” Dash asked, completely ignoring me and my anger.
I bowed my head and practiced deep breathing. I desperately needed to calm down. I didn’t know what was the matter with me but lately my emotions had been all over the place and I was quick to anger. Before, I tried really hard not to get angry about anything and I would have been mortified by how I had just spoken to Quinton. I still kind of was and felt like maybe I should apologize to him for it, but I had no intention of actually doing so because, at the same time, I knew he deserved it. If I didn’t speak up he would bowl right over me and I would eventually turn into his puppet. Nobody wanted that, well, at least I didn’t want that. Who knew what Quinton wanted.
“I think,” Quinton said, “our Ariel is coming into her own skin and isn’t going to be as shy and quiet as we all thought her to originally be.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dash muttered. “And I’m seriously enjoying watching it.”
I hated them.
Both of them.
They were devil’s spawn and I hoped they both choked on turds.
I clenched my hands into fists at my sides and took another deep breath. What in the hell was the matter with me?
A phone started ringing. It rang three times before Quinton answered. Of course, he was rude.
“What?” Quinton growled. I shook my head, that was no way to answer the phone. “You’re joking… They can’t be here right now… Do they know about her? Were they at Marcus’s house first? Shit, yeah, I’ll be right there.”
He hung up without saying goodbye.
“Who was that?” I demanded to know. “Was who at Mr. Cole’s house?”
Quinton looked nervous as he slid his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. He squeezed the back of his neck and closed his eyes.
“Dash, can she stay here with you for a few hours?” Quinton asked in a strained voice. “Just until I can get rid of them, then I will be back for her.”
“She can stay the night,” Dash told him.
Yikes.
I wasn’t ready for a sleepover with Dash.
“I’ll go with you,” I said as I walked towards Quinton. “You can drop me off at home.”
I stopped in front of him and still he did not open his eyes. Something was seriously wrong here.
“Who was on the phone, Quinton?” I asked quietly. I wanted to know what was going on, why he looked suddenly defeated.
He dropped his hand from the back of his neck and his eyes snapped open. His dark eyes bored into mine, attempting to crawl into my soul so he could have a look around and see what was inside of me.
I took a step back, to get away from him and that look, but his arm shot out and he grabbed ahold of my forearm, stopping me mid-step. He jerked on my arm, pulling me forward until I collided with his chest. His big, warm hands pressed into the middle of my back, caging me in.
I was trapped in Quinton’s arms and this time I didn’t really want to be there.
“What’s happening?” I asked in a small, panic filled voice.
His eyes bored into mine, still searching for a way into my soul. I had an urge to close my eyes tight and hide from him.
“Do you trust me?” He asked in his deep, rough voice.
The question surprised me, but I didn’t even need to think about the answer and I wasn’t surprised by it.
“Yes,” I told him honestly and without hesitation.
His eyes lit up and he grinned at me.
“Thank fuck,” he said with feeling. “Some Elders showed up at Marcus’s house, probably just to check in on him. He’s been going through a lot lately with the death of his brother, your mother’s disappearance and now he’s moving away from where he’s lived with his f
amily for years. They don’t care that he pulled away from them years ago. If you have magic, whether you want to be a part of our world or not, whether you want to be in a coven or not, the Council of Elders keeps tabs on you. Best case scenario, they are here to offer him condolences and a place back in the fold. Worst case, they are here because they know about you and want to meet you.”
“But-”
“No,” he said firmly. “No buts. You heard what Marcus said the other day about his sister and why his dad kept her secret and how the Council took her away from her family. What he didn’t tell you, what he left out because he didn’t want to scare you, was that the Council was trying to convince her to join with a coven. They had covens come to meet her, to offer her things. Money and shit, you name it and they probably offered it to her. She didn’t want any of it. How could she have when she had been raised in hiding by her father and told that the covens way with girls is wrong, sick even. My father met her once and he told me she was a fucking head case, Ariel. The thought of being in a coven full of men terrified her. The Elders didn’t care, they wanted her in a coven, even if it was one they had to hand pick for her. They thought if she joined a group, it would be the safest place for her and the best way to introduce her to our way of doing things. She freaked, slit her wrists and bled out in a bathtub. We’re not supposed to talk about it because the Council doesn’t like to be reminded of that black mark against them. But it happened, Ariel. They took her from her home, a teenage girl, tried to force something on her that she did not want, and she killed herself to escape it. I’m not saying that’s going to happen to you, I’m not saying that situation is anything like yours, and I’m not trying to scare you. But you need to know what we are up against here and you need to listen to me.”
My mouth had gone dry while he was talking. I swallowed, tasting the bile that had slowly made its way up my throat.
Please, don’t let me puke on Quinton.
I had known the ending of Mr. Cole’s sister, something I knew had been kept from me for a reason, had been tragic and heartbreaking. But nothing had prepared me for this. Poor Mr. Cole, my heart broke for him. Letting him go, after hearing this, was going to be so much harder now. I wanted to stick with him, keep him close so I could keep him safe. He needed someone to protect him from himself. Obviously, he made horrible decisions when left on his own and he gave too much, too freely.
I took in a deep, shuddering breath as I pushed all thoughts of Mr. Cole to the side. There was a time and a place for everything and this wasn’t the right time for me to be worried about him. I would do that later when I was alone and not afraid to cry.
Right now, there were more important things to stress about. Like this Council of Elders. I felt like the guys had been lying to me about these people.
“But, you said-”
Quinton leaned down, getting in my face.
“No buts,” he growled. “And, honestly, Ariel? What would you have done if you were us? Scare you with the truth about these people? I don’t think so. We wanted you to want to stay with us, not run away screaming.”
He kissed my forehead and abruptly let me go. He stepped back, taking his heat with him.
Looking over my shoulder, he completely ignored me and spoke to Dash. It was like he said what he had to say to me and now I was dismissed, he was moving on. Quinton could be quite a jerk at times.
I did not like being ignored which was something I was just now learning about myself.
“She’s yours, for now, but I will be coming back to get her later. Since she’s moving in with you, you’ve got no room to bitch at me for coming back to get her. Tell her whatever you want to about the Council and you better damn well make sure nothing happens to her.”
Dash and I both scowled at him as he walked out the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Fingertips trailed lightly down my spine, making me jump. I let out an embarrassing squeak, loud and girly. As soon as it left my mouth I desperately wished I could stuff it back inside. It was a sound that should never, not ever come out of me when in the presence of other people.
Placing my hand on my chest to slow down my beating heart, I shuffled to the side and whirled to face him. I think he sniffed my hair before I could put some space between us. How weird was that?
“What are you doing?” I breathed out.
Some of them were getting far too comfortable with touching me. Dash shouldn’t have been one of them. He didn’t even like me and he had no business touching me.
“Hey,” he said in a low voice as he held his hands out in front of him, palms towards me. “I didn’t mean to scare you and I’m sorry that I did. You don’t have anything to be afraid of while you’re here with me. I promise. I’m going to be the perfect gentlemen.”
If I wasn’t so embarrassed by that hideous noise I had made I would have rolled my eyes at the word promise. Here was another one. And I didn’t know this one well enough to trust his word yet.
“You startled me,” I whispered, which was the truth. Did I tell him not to touch me again? No. Did I tell him I had embarrassed myself? Nope. Not his concern on the last and I didn’t want to be mean with the first.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
He looked harmless and contrite standing there with his hands up and the worried look on his face.
I was beginning to feel bad about my reaction to him touching me. It wasn’t that he’d touched me. Honestly, I had forgotten about him even being there. It had more to do with someone coming up behind me without me knowing they were there and not hearing them approach. It had freaked me out.
“Are we good?” He asked as he lowered his hands.
I nodded, silently telling him that, yes, we were good.
He scratched his jaw, itching at his beard in what looked like a nervous gesture. I was glad to not be the only one uncomfortable in this situation. Not nice, I know, but it was the absolute truth.
“Are you hungry?” he asked awkwardly as he continued to play with his facial hair.
I shrugged a shoulder casually and said, “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know if you’re hungry or not?”
“My stomach is in knots,” I told him honestly. “That’s the only thing I can feel in my belly right now.”
His hand dropped from his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. His arms were covered in freckles. They were cute.
“Do you want to see the house?” he asked me.
I nodded, enthusiastically.
“This way,” he said as he turned and walked away.
“Do you really think the Council would take me away from here against my will?” I asked quietly as I followed close behind him.
My eyes took in as much of his house as I could as I followed him.
The front door opened into a small, mud room. The walls were painted a warm, inviting gray. The walls were empty, no shelves, no hooks for hanging up your coat, nothing decorative at all. Two pairs of shoes were on the floor, pressed up against the wall. Guys flip-flops, black with thick gray straps. And black, lace up the front ass kicking boots. I needed a pair of boots like that in my life.
He talked as he walked.
“Honestly,” he said, “they aren’t as scary as all that. What happened with Marcus’s sister was not a normal happenstance. I agree that it was a horrible, tragic thing to have happened, but it’s not like the Council killed her. Quint shouldn’t have made it out to sound like that.”
He paused inside a cozy living room, giving me time to take in the sights. The walls in this room were painted the same gray of the mud room. A fireplace with a black, marble mantle had a fire blazing brightly in it. In front of the fire place sat a black couch, covered in orange toss pillows with a bright orange ottoman in front of it. The hardwood floor was sadly devoid of rugs, but I thought it could use some. A large, flat screen television had been mounted above the fireplace and was currently off. Black shelving ran around the entire room, r
ight below the ceiling. It was stuffed to bursting with both movies and books. The walls in here were bare as well.
When I had seen it all, I looked to him, hoping the expression on my face told him that I wanted him to continue with his speech about the Council.
He didn’t disappoint.
“They didn’t take her from her home thinking they would cause her any harm. They took her out of there thinking they were helping her. Marcus’s dad was not entirely right in the head. I mean, who has a child and hides them away from the whole world? That’s crazy.”
I followed him out of the cozy living room as he kept talking.
“She was messed up in the head from being sheltered and hidden away like that. Hell, Ariel, her own brother wasn’t even allowed to breathe a word of his sister’s existence. It must have been some serious threat that kept him from speaking up about her. Can you imagine?”
I shuddered at the thought. Yeah, I actually could imagine the kind of threat that would keep a person from speaking out.
Dash didn’t point out what room we were standing in for this tour. He simply kept on with his story, pausing long enough in each room for me to take everything in.
The more he talked, the more I relaxed around him.
The room after the living room was the dining room. Same gray paint. Same hardwood floor with no rugs in sight. The table surprised me. It looked antique. It was huge, dark wood, and I counted ten heavy looking chairs. Four chairs on each side, one on each end. The walls were barren in this room as well.
“When girls are born, and it’s determined they have magic, in our world that’s a reason to celebrate, a reason to throw a party. And the Council wouldn’t have taken her away from her parents, they don’t do that if your parents have magic. And, in some cases they will leave you with the parent who doesn’t have magic if something unfortunate should happen to the other one. That’s what happened with me. My mother petitioned the Council to keep me after my father died. Anyways, if you have a girl and she has magic, your entire family gets treated like royalty. They would have wanted for nothing.”
