She sucks in a deep breath and rings the bell.
The black door with shiny brass fittings swings wide revealing an equally exited girl with a vague resemblance to Gretchen. Behind her I hear squealing and shrieks. Maybe adding more sugar to the mix isn’t the smartest plan.
“Hi, Kayleigh. This is my...this is Nic.” Jasmine blushes at her almost slip up.
“I’m a friend of your sister’s. Is she around?” I taste the air but other than a miasma of prepubescent hormones, pizza and cosmetics there’s nothing funky emanating from the house.
“Not sure. She spends a lot of time at my grandmother’s house.” The girl barely gives me a second glance.
“How about your mom?” Someone must be watching these kids.
“She’s in the kitchen. Mom, someone wants to talk to you! Come on, Jazz, we’re all set up in the living room.”
“Bye, Nic.” Jasmine gives me a final wave before she disappears and the squeals hit a fever pitch.
“Hi there,” A slender woman with blond highlights drawls. She has more Southern honey on her tongue than either Kayleigh or Gretchen. She’s dressed casually, wearing yoga pants and an oversized cable knit sweater and carrying a glass of chardonnay. She’s what Sarah would have termed a “quintessential basic bitch.”
“You must be Jazz’s older sister,” she croons at me. “Well, I’m Marla and don’t you worry none, honey. The girls and I are gonna have lots of fun tonight.”
Marla is, without a doubt, human. No fey would ever be so cookie cutter.
“Okay, my cell number is in Jasmine’s phone in case you need it, and of course Gretchen has it. We’re in the same grade at school.”
“Bless your heart,” she says.
I can’t take anymore and slowly back up from the door. “Have a good night.”
Another round of squealing follows me down the flagstone path and back to the truck.
“All clear?” Aiden asks.
I nod. “It’s a good thing we left you in the truck. Something tells me Marla would have taken a shine to you.” Especially if that wasn’t her first glass of Chardonnay.
Aiden’s laugh is low and husky and he pulls me over the bench seat until I’m wedged up against him. Draping an arm around my shoulders, he sighs. “That’s better. I don’t want anything between me and my girlfriend.”
“Like that, do you?”
He nods slowly. “I like anything that means you’re accepting me.”
The night air is cool and I snuggle against him, glad for the warmth as much as the intimacy. “Do I get to know where we’re going now?”
“Soon.” He turns the key, and then puts the truck into reverse. Once we’re cruising through town he asks, “You said earlier you had something to tell me.”
This wasn’t how I imagined it. “We can talk about it later. I don’t want to spoil our date.”
“Nic.” He brakes for a red light and turns to look at me. “This isn’t about playing pretend. We’re still us, complications and all. You won’t ever ruin anything by being honest with me. I want you to tell me everything without fear or censoring, okay?”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath and then dive into it, head first.
I tell him about letting go of the branch, awaking in the river sprite village. Aiden showing up, with the bond broken. He listens when I tell him how I sent him away. He asks no questions when I reveal meeting the woman who called herself Pharaildis and claimed to be my mother. Confronting the dead aunt who’d abandoned me, leaving him to lose an eye, encountering his parents.
He says nothing when I repeat the riddle, tell him about the future Sarah has showed me or even when I talk about the runes and seeing the dead, not just souls I’ve tethered to the Hunt with my Goodnight Kiss. But all those who have died.
Aiden stops the truck, turns the engine off. He’s facing forward, his knuckles clenched on the steering wheel.
I let out a shaky breath. “So much for not killing the mood. Of course, it wouldn’t be a night out with me if I didn’t kill something.”
He shakes his head.
I want to beg him to say something, but I just dumped a whole truckload of grief on his doorstep. It’s not my place to make demands.
Instead, in an effort to distract myself and let him digest it all. I look around. Night has settled around us and we’re parked on an unfamiliar dirt road, though we haven’t driven far. “Where are we?”
“My place.”
I swing my gaze to him. “What do you mean your place? Since when did you have a place?”
“It’s just a piece of land at the moment, though I plan to build on it.” After extracting the key from the ignition, he pops the door to the truck. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
I take his hand and let him lead me out of the woods and up a small hill to a clearing. With a snap of his fingers, torches that had been standing cold a second ago flare to life, as does a pile of wood in the center of a massive fire pit. “This will be the hearth. I’ll be building bookshelves on either side. The great room will have a vaulted ceiling with exposed wood beams. Skylights on either side with automatic shades so we can look up at the stars.”
“We?” I ask. What exactly is he asking me here?
He turns to look at me. “I know you have your own place. But the farm gets crowded. I thought this would be nice, to escape. Whenever you need a break.”
He paces out a dozen strides, shows me where the kitchen will be, explains details of the built-in booth that he’ll make instead of a standard dining room table. The island counter with a Viking stove that he’d already bought off Craigslist. The bathroom with a rainfall shower and sunken tub, big enough for two. I’m blushing before he gets to the spiral staircase leading up to the single bedroom.
I can see it all, every step he’s walking me through. “It sounds amazing. But, who’s going to do all this?”
“I am.”
I snort. Then blink when his expression falls. “You know how to build a house?”
He nods. “I’ve done it before.”
I want to ask more, but he leads me around to the far side of the fire. “This will be the front porch. Check out the view.”
I stare out at the endless rolling landscape lit only by moonlight. It’s otherworldly, peaceful. He picked a glorious spot.
The firelight reveals a picnic blanket, a basket and plush pillows for sitting. Aiden takes the rose from the dashboard of the truck and carries it over to a crystal vase set up on the blanket before turning to me.
“Your farmhouse is about two miles that way. The next mountain top over.” He pulls me against him and points over my shoulder. “I come here every night after you go home, near enough that I can be there in an instant if you need me, but far enough away so I don’t interfere. The property came on the market earlier this summer and I bought it.”
I stare at the lights barely visible through the leafy canopy. Come winter when all the leaves fall, the long-range view would be virtually unobstructed.
“How long?” I ask, not daring to move. “How long did you watch me from here?”
“Since the Fates moved you here. When you were six.”
I swallowed. “I thought Brigit kept you caged all that time.”
“There are different kinds of cages,” his words are cryptic and full of pain. “You’re right about me, you know. That I’ve been punishing myself for Nari.”
“Aiden—” I turn to face him but he looks away.
“There was a point where I thought I felt you there. In the caves with me. I chalked it up to hallucination but maybe, maybe Underhill really did bring you back there.”
It feels as though my insides are being crushed. “I hated leaving you. I’m so so sorry.”
But he’s shaking his head. “You were right to leave me there. Though I can’t promise that I learned any great lessons or that I won’t wind up in a similar situation.” His posture is tight, his hands buried deep in his suit pockets.
> “It didn’t feel right. It felt like a betrayal. If our places were reversed I wouldn’t have understood if you stood by and did nothing to help me.”
His lips twitch. “That’s because I would never do that.”
I shove him and he laughs, catching my hand and threading his fingers through mine. “So clearly you are a better person than I am?”
His other hand comes up to cup my cheek. “No. It means you have what it takes to be a queen. An underfed queen at that. Come on, let’s eat.”
I’m half expecting a box of open stale cheese crackers and a few bottles of mountain dew. Again, Aiden surprises me.
Our picnic is a combination of all my favorite foods. Spinach artichoke dip, baked apple cobbler, fresh fruit, bread and cheese. And weirdly a platter of pancakes.
“What’s with the pancakes?” I quirk an eyebrow at him.
Reaching into his suit pocket he extracts a familiar vial. “Goes better with syrup.”
“Is that...?” I reach for the vial, my heart pounding.
Aiden nods. “I’m ready, if you still want me to break my oath to you.”
Oath breaking is a big deal to him. I recall what the dream version had told me, about the corner of Hel reserved for oath breakers, where the dragon Nidhogg gnaws forever on their bones.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “You were planning this, even before I told you about the gauntlet.”
He nods. “This choice has been before us all along. I wasn’t ready for it before.”
“Why not?” I whisper and step closer to him. “What are you afraid of?”
His green eyes are guileless. “Without my oath of obedience, that lacking the ability to command me, you’ll send me away.”
As I’d done in the heart of Underhill. I breathe his name and put my arms around his neck. “We’re past that.”
“You did it in my dreams,” he points out.
“To protect you. I didn’t want you to watch me die. Again.”
“I know and that gives me hope.” He pushes some hair behind my ear, intent on doing it just so. “Nic. We’ll be in uncharted territory. You won’t be able to control my wolf.”
My fingers curl into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to control any part of you. But don’t drink this for me.”
His green eyes narrow. “I thought you wanted this.”
“I do. But I want you to want this. Drink it because you believe in us. Drink it because you believe you shouldn’t be ordered around by anyone for any reason. Drink it because you trust yourself and in the hope that maybe one day you will forgive yourself.”
His hands shake as he fumbles with the cork.
I step back, giving him room, vowing that if he dumps the syrup out on the ground, I won’t ever ask him to break his oath again. His choice, this must be his choice.
He stares at the vial then up to me. “This will change everything. I don’t know what will happen to the mate bond without the oath. If we can still communicate mind to mind.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”
Green gaze locked on my face, he upends the vial, swallowing its contents in one gulp.
Heart in my throat, I study him, waiting for some sort of sign. There is no light, or explosion of magic.
Aiden? I think at him.
Yeah? It’s an automatic reply, as though he’s distracted.
“I can still hear you,” I breathe. “Did it work?”
Maybe the magic in the syrup expired. Or we missed a step.
“One way to find out.” His green eyes are practically glowing in the low light. “Tell me to do something.”
“Kiss me, Aiden,” I order.
A slow smile spreads across his face and he doesn’t even twitch. “No Nic, you come here and kiss me.”
“Gladly.” I move into him again, claiming his lips with my own.
“IF I’D KNOWN I’D BE this well fed, I wouldn’t have snitched that brownie.” I lay back on the blanket, my hand curving over my bulging stomach.
“I’m glad you liked it.” Aiden stretches out alongside me. We’re both seriously overdressed for an outdoor picnic in the wilds of a North Carolina night, but neither of us mentions it.
The citronella torches keep the bugs at bay and the fire pit adds just the right amount of heat and light to make us comfortable. I stare up at the night sky, stars so familiar and yet I know nothing about them.
Aiden of course does. “That’s the constellation Virgo. People born under that sign tend to be neurotic as hell.”
I laugh. “What, are you an astrology expert too?”
“You’re a Scorpio. Fun fact, most serial killers are born under that sign.”
“Good to know the universe has a plan. What about you.”
“I’m older than most known constellations.”
I sigh and then turn to face him. “Can I ask you a question? Why did you buy this property?”
He exhales, his gaze still trained on the stars. “Because I wanted a place where I’d always belong. It’s something I haven’t experienced since I left Asgard. That sense of belonging.”
I scoot closer and stare down into his eyes. “You belong with me.”
He quirks a brow. “Not to you?”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, Aiden. With me. I figured something out while I was in Underhill. I kept trying to do things to protect you, to keep you from getting hurt. Most of the time, no matter what I tried, things only got worse. And the only way they could get better is if you made your own decisions. I don’t own you, but there will always be a place at my side for you if you want it.”
His brows draw together and he looks as though he’s in pain. “Nic, there’s something I—”
My phone rings.
I retrieve the device from where I stashed it at the corner of the blanket and frown at the display. “Sorry, hold that thought. What’s up, Jazz?”
“Nic. It’s me. Er...Gretchen. Can you come back here?”
I sit bolt upright. “Is everything okay? Why are you calling me on Jasmine’s phone?”
“Just hurry.” There’s a click and then silence.
“Did you hear that?” I ask, anxiety spiking.
Aiden is already on his feet. “Sparks or truck?”
“How long by conventional means?”
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
“You go on ahead. Make sure Jazz is all right. I’ll take the truck. Call me if you find out anything.”
He reaches out and douses all the flames as easily as he had lit them, then hands me his suit jacket. “Keys are in the pocket.”
I barely catch it when he dissembles into sparks.
“And things were going so well, too.” I grumble as I dash for the truck, keys in hand.
Bitching keeps me distracted from freaking out over what Gretchen might possibly want. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being led into some sort of trap.
“Gretchen is human,” I say as the truck fishtails off the dirt road. A Toyota swerves as I fight to right the wheel and force the truck into my lane. The other car barely misses my left quarter panel and I hear the driver shout something as I zoom past. Probably calling me a crazy bitch.
I blow him a kiss in my rearview, then focus on the road.
All the tranquility I’d experienced on the peaceful hilltop is long gone. One night off, hadn’t I at least earned one night off from all the craziness? But my bitterness can’t overtake the worry I feel. If anything has happened to Jazz....
I skid to a stop at the mouth of Gretchen’s driveway and see she and Aiden already out front. No firetruck or ambulance or police cars. Gretchen is wearing a long nightdress and her feet are bare. Aiden’s got a dark scowl on his face. Jasmine is nowhere in sight.
“What?” I ask “What’s wrong? Is Jasmine okay?”
“She’s fine.” Aiden moves to stand between us. “But we have a problem.”
“What so
rt of problem?” I frown, looking from him to Gretchen and back.
Wordlessly, she hands me a manila envelope.
The first photo is grainy, obviously taken from a distance probably with the zoom in feature on the phone. My face, however, is easy enough to identify, bent as I am over a fresh corpse.
“Shit,” I say, recognizing the guy I’d offed on my last night out with Sarah. Something Anderson. From the angle of the photo, it looks as if I’m picking his pocket, which I had been. For my I.D. collection.
“There’s more.” Aiden’s tone is grim.
The next photo is of a wolf skulking through the trees. Nothing bad, except the one directly after that is a naked Aiden, his face shown in profile.
I start flipping through them faster, my brain whirling through damage control scenarios. How much does Gretchen know? There’s me and Aiden, half formed in a shower of sparks. There’s Chloe, oh gods no, with her eyes swirling. When was that from?
Freda in her helmet and Nahini with the ghosts. The Wild Hunt in all their unnerving glory. Us and the Valkyrie nest at the trashed apartment complex. Damn it, I knew someone had been in the woods.
And then photo copies of my diary. I recognize the picture. Paul freaking Anderson.
She has it all, enough evidence to convict me, to lock me up and throw away the key.
“What are you?” Gretchen asks, eyes round, tone incredulous.
I exchange glances with Aiden.
One kiss and it could be over. I’m not sure if the thought is his or mine. We are both thinking it though.
Could I really kill an innocent to keep my secret?
One thing is for sure. The next few minutes will change the course of all our lives.
~End of Book 2~
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Jennifer L. Hart knows that surviving as a military spouse takes persistence, comfort food and a stellar sense of humor. Her books often focus on people who've lived the military lifestyle and zany antics of neurotic heroines, who like to eat, drink and have fun. Her works include the Misadventures of the Laundry Hag mystery series, the Damaged Goods mystery series, the Southern Pasta Shop mysteries and Mackenzie & Mackenzie P.I. Follow her on social media using the hashtag #mysterieswithhart
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