by Lisa Medley
Like the guy needed to compound his problems by getting drunk with so many demons still on the loose. At least he was safe now. The fact that he came home at all was a blessing. Kylen had been unpredictable at best and dangerous at worst. At times Deacon saw glimpses of the Kylen he’d known in his youth, but lately? Two Kylens raged within his friend, and Deacon wasn’t sure which one he was with most of the time.
He loved the guy, but it sure wasn’t easy.
He poked Kylen’s shoulder with a little more force than was necessary. “Kylen! Wake up!”
When he didn’t stir, Deacon looked at Nate, “Did you drug him?”
“Nope, he ran out of juice and passed out. There’s just nutrition in his IV.”
Deacon laid his palm on Kylen’s chest and pushed a jolt of orange light into him. They tried to keep themselves healthy and energized the natural way—food and rest—because juicing someone else was draining. Most days, Deacon had plenty to spare with the upgrades and all, but it wasn’t a good idea to make a habit of it since they never knew when they would be pressed back into action.
This would be a night off. They’d downed a good score yesterday, making a significant dent in the remaining population. The battle was half-won. Now they needed rest. Besides, Nate had set up everything for his whole Mabon celebration. Given the latest developments and Olivia’s miraculous discovery, it seemed like they might actually have something to celebrate.
Deacon gave Kylen another jolt, and he jerked to life, cracking his head on the bed above him.
Serves him right.
“Welcome back, sunshine,” Deacon said.
Kylen looked around the trailer, eyes wild, trying to figure out where the hell he was. Whiskey would do that to a guy.
“Take it easy, killer. You’re good,” Deacon affirmed, wondering how much liquor he’d actually consumed.
Kylen kicked his still-booted feet over the side of the bed and rubbed his newly bruised head. The guy was suffering all right.
Deacon felt a pang of satisfaction. Kylen had been a Class-A asshole ever since they returned from Hell. They’d given him tons of latitude and coddling. More than they probably should have. As he watched Kylen struggle back to reality from wherever he’d been for the past few hours, the word that came to mind was broken.
“Get your shit together. We have to talk.” Deacon walked the length of the trailer and sat at the little banquet table. Nate closed the door behind him, shutting the three of them into the tin-can house on wheels, and took a seat on the edge of the full bed on the opposite end of the trailer.
“Where’s Olivia?” Kylen asked, head still in his hands.
“She’s cleaning up. I hear she had a rough morning. You did, too, from the looks of things. Still think getting drunk was a good idea?” Deacon asked.
Kylen didn’t answer. If experience was any indication, it would be like pulling teeth to get any kind of response out of the guy. Of course, this was going to be more of a lecture than a conversation. Lucky for him, Deacon was in a lecturing sort of mood.
“Olivia was dead, Kylen. Nate says he doesn’t know how long, but somehow…someway, you brought her back. Nate thinks something about your energy in particular is sustaining her.”
Kylen raised his head to make eye contact with Deacon, then flicked his gaze to Nate, clearly skeptical.
“I know. Go figure. None of us wants to risk juicing her, Kylen. She has some tie to you. Maybe it’s because you forced the demon from her. I don’t know why. But what we do know is that we all want to keep her alive for as long as you can.” Deacon leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Do you think you can help with that? Keeping her alive?”
Kylen lowered his gaze and studied his boots like they were a map, and he was lost in a dark wilderness. “Yes.”
“Good. I was hoping you would say that. You do realize it means you’ll have to take better care of yourself. You can’t feed her if you don’t feed yourself. Right?
“Yes,” Kylen assented.
Nate shifted like he was uncomfortable, and then lifted the side of the thin mattress to reveal a dozen more knives in various lengths and sizes. “Nice use of storage.”
Deacon stood and walked to the door. “Get yourself cleaned up. You reek. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Nate wants us all in the backyard for the bonfire and celebration afterward. I’d appreciate your company. You used to like a good party.”
“I used to like a lot of things.”
Deacon started down the stairs, Nate following, but he turned back after a couple of steps. “Go easy with her, Kylen. Don’t break her.”
With that, they left the camper, shutting the door behind them.
* * *
Kylen’s head felt like a legion of imps were beating the shit out of each other inside his skull. No, the Jameson had decidedly not been a good idea, but it was the only way he could have gotten through that list.
Both dreading to see Olivia again and craving it, he couldn’t shake the image of her lying on that bed. Exposed. Vulnerable. Dead.
He’d seen a lot of bad shit in his life.
Done a lot of bad shit. But that was the worst thing since…Kara.
Fuck.
How many times had he relived her murder in his head?
His mind was a jumble of death and destruction and darkness. How could he have anything to offer Olivia? But it sounded like it was too late for him to make that call. Was he tied to her now? What about when the electric-blue juice stopped working? No way was he watching another woman die on him. His shirt was stiff and crunchy, still caked in blood and gore from their confrontation with the hosts. He was a wreck and he needed a shower.
Walking over to the sink, he took slow, determined steps, careful not to jostle his aching head any more than necessary, and managed to brush his teeth, a minor miracle in itself. Grabbing a change of clothes from the top bunk, he opened the door to the full dark of evening. He’d missed an entire day…again.
How many more days did Olivia have left?
Chapter Seventeen
Nate and Ruth had prepared a feast while Olivia was out for the count. There was so much food, and she felt a special appreciation for the abundance.
She also felt…good. And hungry.
Somehow they all managed to crowd around the small kitchen table, and Nate insisted on serving them. Two large pillar candles sat in the middle of the table: one black, one white. Nate placed a heaping bowl of what he declared to be autumn stew in front of her. It was different from the stew she’d shared with Kylen the previous night.
Just last night?
Her inner timetable was so confused. She couldn’t even remember how long she’d been here anymore.
Deacon and Ruth whispered and laughed across from her while Kylen sat to her right, stoic and silent, like he always seemed to be.
She hadn’t even had a chance to thank him for redoing her list. The yoga pants Ruth had given her didn’t have pockets, so she’d stuffed it into her sports bra.
Finished with the preparations, Nate joined them, taking the empty chair next to Olivia’s after lighting the candles.
“Let’s join hands for a prayer,” Nate said.
He reached for Olivia’s hand, and Olivia searched under the table and took Kylen’s hand in hers. A jolt coursed through her palm and up her arm. She jumped and Kylen tried to tear his hand away, but she held onto it, refusing to let him go. She smiled at him, but he didn’t return the expression.
It occurred to her that she hadn’t seen him smile in the entire time she’d known him. However many hours that was now. She’d have to see if she could change that.
“Kylen?” Deacon reached across the table for his other hand.
You would have thought the guy was going to come unglued by the thought of touching another person. Reluctantly, he took the proffered hand. For Kylen’s sake, she hoped Nate would be brief. Otherwise the big blond badass might just spontaneously combust.
She suppressed a giggle.<
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Nate sighed and closed his eyes. “Equal hours of light and dark, we celebrate the balance of Mabon and ask the gods to bless us. For all that is bad, there is good. For every feeling of despair, there is hope. For the moments of pain, there are moments of love. For all that falls, there is the chance to rise again. May we find balance in our lives as we find it in our hearts. Let it be.”
“Is this where I get to say ‘pass the bread’?” Deacon joked as Kylen pulled his hand out of his grasp like it was on fire.
Everyone dug into the feast eagerly. And it truly was a feast, in every sense of the word. Dark bread, stew, and a corn and red pepper casserole were passed around while four bottles of wine sat open and ready on the table.
Nate filled his own glass and offered the bottle to Olivia.
Why not? She still had #52 get drunk to complete. Time was short and from the looks of things, the wine was plentiful.
She nodded, and Nate filled her glass to the top with sparkling white wine. Only when she went to reach for her glass did she realize that Kylen was still holding her hand under the table. Her reflex made him release his hold, and she immediately regretted it.
Raising her glass, she took a tentative sip. It was cool and refreshing, with the tiniest bite at the end.
Delicious.
No, #52 would not be a hardship at all.
* * *
Deacon pushed back from the table. “I wish every day could be Mabon. That was an awesome meal. My compliments to the chefs.”
Nate stood and cleared away the dirty dishes, piling them into the sink.
Ruth beamed. “Nate orchestrated it all and even bought the groceries. I just helped him assemble everything. And wait until you see the dessert Olivia made.”
Olivia shifted in her chair, her cheeks blushing at the attention. “It’s the first time I’ve made it. I hope it’s good.”
Kylen watched as Nate carried a pie plate from the kitchen counter and placed it in the center of the table with a flourish, giving a nod to Olivia. “Would you do the honors?
Normally not tempted by sweets, Kylen found his mouth watering as she cut into the top of the oozing apple pastry.
It smelled so damn good.
She served him first, and to his surprise, he realized he was already holding his fork in anticipation. Her hand brushed his as she placed the pie in front of him and sparks flew between them that were clearly visible to everyone.
“Whoa!” Ruth said. “You two are a fire hazard.”
Kylen forked a bite of the pie, ignoring the others as Olivia served them dessert. He neither wanted nor needed the condescending look that Deacon was sending his way. This whole family-dinner fiasco had been exhausting. He was not family. Or if he was, he was the black sheep or the third cousin twice-removed who’d recently been paroled from prison.
“Oh. My. God. This is the best dessert ever, Olivia,” Ruth said, closing her eyes as she wrapped her lips around her second forkful of pie.
“She’s right, Olivia. It’s very, very good.” Deacon offered, punctuating his praise with a smile.
“Amen that,” Nate agreed.
Kylen shoveled in his first bite, and for a horrifying moment, he felt like making a Valley-girl proclamation of his own. It really was the best dessert ever. And that was saying something from a guy who’d been around for more than a couple of centuries.
The girl could bake.
He finished his piece, and then rose from the table to escape outside, away from the supernatural Brady Bunch, away from the love-fest that was threatening to dull his edge.
Olivia’s list came to mind as he walked out into the chilly fall night—#52 make the best dessert ever. Her list was getting shorter.
And so was her time.
* * *
“Thank you all,” Olivia said, carrying the empty pie plate to the sink.
“For what, hon?” Ruth stacked the remaining dishes into the soapy water.
“For helping me enjoy my last few days. It’s been…interesting. But I really am ready to go home now. Tomorrow, I’d like to leave. I have…commitments to fulfill.”
Deacon came up behind Ruth and slid his arms around her waist. “Olivia, I know it’s difficult to accept or even believe what you’ve learned these past few days, but all things considered, I think it’s for your own good to stay with us a little longer.”
“Deacon, there are things I still want to accomplish before it’s too late. Things I can’t do out here in the middle of the woods no matter how kind or intriguing you all are.” She searched his face for understanding, fully realizing that he was the one in control of this group.
“You might be a target for the demons again now that they have you on their radar. Please consider staying here a little longer.”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain to you. I don’t have ‘a little longer.’ It’s my life. I understand the risks more than most. I’m not going to spend the rest of my time under lock and key. If you won’t help me leave, I’ll find another way. But I am going home. Tomorrow.”
Nate dried his hands and set the last clean dish in the cabinet. “Maybe Kylen could go with her? Protect her while she does what she needs to do, and then bring her back here?”
“We would all be safer if we just stayed here,” Deacon said.
“Of course, but we made a big bust last night. It should take the demons at least a couple of days to regroup. Besides, none of us likes living in a bubble, Deacon. I’m pretty confident that Kylen can handle himself and protect Olivia.”
“Would you send Ruth out there with him?” Deacon asked.
“After what I saw him do last night? Yeah, I would. He may be a social train wreck, but he’s damn efficient at exterminating demons,” Nate said. “And keeping her alive.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Deacon, Nate is right,” Ruth said, turning in Deacon’s arms to give him a light kiss. “She’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions. Have you learned nothing about women over the past four months? We’ll find a way. It’s easier if you help us instead of fight us.” She smiled up at him.
“If you can convince Kylen to go with you, I’ll back off.” He gave Olivia a smug smile. “Good luck with that.”
Nate headed to the back door. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s start a fire.”
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia wasn’t sure if it was the starry night, the warmth from the last smoldering logs on the fire or the bottom of her second glass of wine, but she felt utterly content sitting in the canvas sling chair beside the dying bonfire.
Nate added the final touches to a beautiful Mabon altar full of gifts from the woods nearby, including acorns, three huge oak leaves, pine needles, apples from the farmers’ market, pumpkins of various sizes and a full glass of wine. He’d encouraged them all to consider what they were thankful for as he lit the bonfire, but he’d spared them from having to recite their blessings aloud when Kylen threatened to retreat to his trailer. Their prayers were supposed to float straight up to the gods from the fire. She’d sent up several, including a request for a few more days.
Deacon had promised he’d withdraw his objections to her leaving if Kylen went with her. Since Kylen hadn’t said even one word to her since dinner, she was less than hopeful about his answer. She barely knew him at all, and yet she already knew better than to ask him in front of everyone else.
He would not be happy to babysit her while she was on her list-completing mission. Considering the remaining items on her list, the whole prospect was rather mortifying. Still, she was determined to see it through.
Across the fire pit, Deacon took Ruth’s hand and pulled her to her feet, leading her toward the house.
“Good night,” he said. “Olivia, please don’t leave the mowed perimeter of the yard. You’ll be safe as long as you stay within the circle of protection, but it ends at the perimeter.” He directed a hard stare at Kylen, which felt like a warning, even to Olivia.
&
nbsp; As they crossed the lawn, she wondered why there was still so much animosity between the two friends. Ruth had explained some of their history, but there were some missing puzzle pieces, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to get answers from Kylen. To say that he wasn’t a talker would be the understatement of the century. He’d said less than a hundred words to her.
Most of those in one-word sentences.
Nate followed. “I’m going to turn in, too. Olivia, I’ll sleep out on the couch. You can have my bed if you’d rather not spend another night in a hospital bed.”
Olivia felt her cheeks redden and was thankful for the cover of darkness. “That’s very kind, Nate.” She decided not to tell him that she’d be sleeping out here, under the stars.
She watched as he disappeared into the house, too.
The fire crackled and popped, and then winked out, leaving her alone in the growing darkness with Kylen and one more bottle of wine. The vacuum of silence was overwhelming as she leaned forward for the bottle. She was reasonably sure she’d succeeded quite well in fulfilling #52, but her anxiety about making a request of Kylen—about being alone out here with him—demanded more fuel.
As she fumbled for traction on the wine bottle, she lost her balance and fell forward. Kylen flashed in front of her, pulling her away from the fire just before she fell onto the smoldering coals. Blue sparks raced up her forearms where his hands were touching her flesh. Her head was fuzzy and swimmy, her legs unsteady beneath her.
“Oops. I guess maybe I’ve had enough?” She shivered.
He looked amazing in the moonlight, which made his hard features seem softer despite the scowl on his face. His blond hair all but glowed in the darkness, and the desire to touch his face was so strong she curled her hands into fists to resist the impulse. She couldn’t help but wonder what his smile might look like.
“Yes, you have. You need to go inside to bed. You’re cold.”
“No…I mean, yes, I am cold, but I’m not going inside to bed. You read my list. Tonight is #55. Do you remember #55?” Emboldened, she reached into her shirt and down her sports bra, retrieving the list. Unfolding it with meticulous precision, she turned it toward his face and pointed to #55.
