by A. K. Morgen
The fierce lights in Dace’s eyes dimmed, replaced with something curiously like defeat. He rubbed his thumb along my cheek, not answering.
Freki fluttered inside me, little threads of anger leaking around the edges of her prison.
I flicked my gaze toward the flowers. My stomach churned as the truth wormed its way through me, twisting through the very fiber of my being and leaving me cold.
Nowhere was safe for us anymore. Nowhere.
“Throw the flowers away,” I whispered, trying not to throw up.
ou look good, Ari,” Beth Michaelson commented late that afternoon, leaning down to give me a hug. She spoke softly, her voice little more than a whisper.
“So do you,” I said, giving her a quick squeeze.
We were both stretching the truth.
I wore sweats and a hoodie with my hair tossed into a messy ponytail. Untamed auburn strands curled around my face every which way, and not even the concealer I’d dabbed on hid the dark circles beneath my eyes. The sleeves of my hoodie weren’t long enough to cover the mass of tape gunk and bruises left from IV lines on the backs of my hands either.
Beth had taken a little more care with her appearance, opting for jeans, brown knee-high boots, a leopard-print top, blush, and lip gloss. But her brown eyes were puffy beneath, as if she’d been crying. She’d tucked strands of her long, dark hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face, which only accentuated how pale she’d become since Dani died.
Neither of us looked great.
Chelle, Beth’s sister and my closest friend in Beebe, didn’t look much better. She stood directly behind Beth, waiting for her turn to say hello. She and Beth―and Dani―were triplets. Beth and Chelle looked more alike in their grief than they had before. Chelle’s dark eyes were clouded, her face gaunt and colorless. Had she not been hand-in-hand with her boyfriend Gage Carter, I wouldn’t have known which sister was which.
Gage, like Dace, loomed above us, well over six feet tall. His blue eyes were a lot like Dace’s―far too bright to belong to an ordinary human. Gage was Nephilim, the descendant of an angel. He was also Chelle’s other half. He looked out for her, protected her, above anything. The first time I met him―the day Dani died―he was so focused on Chelle, he walked right past me without a word. I didn’t hold it against him, and I’d come to count him a friend in the months since.
“Hey, guys,” I said, giving them both a smile.
They stopped by to welcome me home. I didn’t really feel much like company, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Chelle no when she asked. Despite her own problems, she and Gage visited me almost daily in the hospital. I owed her this visit. Besides, I’d missed her since she last came to see me in the hospital.
“Hey.” Gage stepped aside so Chelle could lean down to hug me too.
“Welcome home,” she murmured, pulling back to look at me.
“Thanks.”
“How are you?” she asked, examining my face.
“Surviving. How are you?”
She gave me a little shrug.
I squeezed her hand in understanding. Her life had become as terrifying as mine in the last couple of months. So had Beth’s, for that matter. The only difference was Beth didn’t know the truth about what lurked in the dark. Chelle carried that burden in silence so her sister didn’t have to endure the same awful truths we were forced to face.
Beth, Chelle, Gage, Ronan, and Dace were all fanned out around my bedroom, but I didn’t see Mandy Chapman, Beth’s best friend.
“Where’s Mandy?” I asked.
“She couldn’t come.” Chelle grimaced apologetically, cutting her gaze toward the corner where Ronan sat, observing our reunion in silence.
“Oh,” I sighed, shooting him a wary glance. As usual, he wore dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and dirty boots. He looked like the leader of a biker gang, with dark, severe features. Handsome in a striking kind of way, but nowhere near my type. He was too rough around the edges, not to mention a little dangerous.
The night Hati attacked me, Ronan kidnapped Mandy and left her in the woods miles outside of town. He claimed he did it because he knew I’d send the wolves to find her, and he’d be able to talk to me alone. I think what he really meant was that he did it so he could get me alone in case he decided he needed to kill me. For reasons he hadn’t quite explained to me, he’d thought I killed Chiran when he found me covered in the poor wolf’s blood.
Whatever his misguided reasons though, the results were the same. Mandy had been terrified out of her mind, and Hati nearly killed me. Chelle managed to convince Mandy to tell everyone she’d wandered too far and lost her way, but Mandy hadn’t said a word to Ronan since. When she visited me in the hospital, if he came in, she left. I didn’t really blame her. Ronan did a stupid thing that could have cost her more than a few nightmares.
I wasn’t sure if he cared about that or not.
He looked at Chelle and me levelly, then went back to staring out the window.
“You owe her an apology, you know,” Beth said, stomping across the room. She stopped in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest. Whatever sense of kinship she’d felt for him over Dani, he’d effectively destroyed it. “Your sick joke could have killed her.”
Ronan turned his head to look at her, his expression blank.
I fought the urge to shudder. I hated how he did that, moving nothing but his head in some creepy raven way.
“You knew there were wolves out there. They killed Dani,” Beth said. Her bottom lip quivered, but she didn’t burst into tears. She took a deep breath and scowled. “One could have killed Mandy.”
“They wouldn’t have bothered,” Ronan said.
He was right, if a little too blunt, but Beth didn’t know that. She didn’t know the wild wolves living in the woods surrounding town were harmless. They didn’t kill Dani or try to kill me. The real monsters walked among us, lived beside us… and wanted to kill all of us. But Beth never would know that, because Chelle didn’t want her to, and we couldn’t deny Chelle that right, even if it meant the wolves, our wolves, took the blame for the horrible things happening.
“What did you say?” Beth asked, her voice lowering an octave.
“She’s not important,” Ronan said.
Beth blanched, curling her hands into fists.
Dace growled silently, his anger flowing through our bond like the crack of a whip striking flesh. I jerked at the sting, but no one noticed. Everyone’s eyes were on Ronan and Beth.
“Maybe you should leave,” Gage said, glaring at Ronan. He placed his hand on Beth’s arm, to keep her from punching Ronan, I thought.
“I think I’ll stay,” Ronan said.
Gage shot him a dirty look, his eyes narrowing to thin slits.
“Why are you here anyway?” Beth demanded. “Ari doesn’t even like you.”
I cringed at her brutal honesty.
Ronan didn’t react.
“Ugh!” Beth threw her hands in the air, disgust written all over her face. She swung to face me. “I’m sorry, Ari, but if he doesn’t leave, I will. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“Beth―” Chelle started.
“I’m serious,” she said, cutting her sister off. “He’s an asshole, and I don’t know why you guys even let him hang around. Dani would be disgusted with him if she were still here.”
Beth’s face paled as soon as the words left her lips, but it was too late to call them back.
Ronan and Chelle both flinched, Dani’s name hanging in the air like smoke from a bomb blast.
“She isn’t here,” Ronan said, his voice quiet and remote. “She’s dead.”
He stepped around Beth and out the bedroom door without another word.
Great. Just great.
I rubbed my temples.
“I’m sorry,” Beth mumbled when the sound of his footfalls on the stairs receded. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine,” Chelle said, her voice faint and pained
.
Beth sank down in the windowsill, hunching her shoulders as if trying to disappear. Moisture swam in her eyes, misery pooling in twin drops of water. “I miss her,” she whispered. “I miss her so much.”
My heart broke for her, for Chelle. And for Ronan.
All three.
couple more steps, Ari,” Dad said, wriggling two fingers.
I shuffled forward. My legs trembled until I felt like Bambi learning to stand for the first time, but Dace stood at my side, so I knew I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. Not this time, anyway.
“You’re doing good,” he said, squeezing my hand in his.
Easy for him to say. Every time I moved an inch, it seemed like the couch did too.
I hated walking.
“Why does the couch keep moving?” I complained, glaring balefully at the leather sofa.
“It isn’t.”
I arched a brow.
Stop whining. You can do this.
I ignored him, mostly because he was right. I could do this, and I was whining.
I took another shuffling step forward, and then another. My side ached and throbbed. I gritted my teeth and kept moving. One baby step at a time.
“Atta girl!” Dad cheered from across the room when I finally bumped up against the dark leather arm of the couch.
Dace helped ease me down, grinning.
“Congratulations,” Ronan said, holding out a blanket for me. He quickly snatched his fingers away when Dace closed his hand over the purple microfiber.
Dace grunted before placing it over my lap and settling down beside me.
I rolled my eyes.
“You’ll be running in no time, hon,” Dad said, oblivious to Dace and Ronan’s childish display.
“I’d settle for a brisk walk,” I muttered. Being an invalid sucked. I’d come a long way in the last month, but I still couldn’t even pee without someone helping me to the bathroom. And I was the only girl in the house. Talk about awkward.
Dace slipped his hand into mine.
“Have you found anything?” I asked, glancing between him and Ronan.
Ronan propped himself up against the wall, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to find.”
I snorted, more frustrated than disbelieving. “Sköll and Hati didn’t pluck the flowers from the side of the road.”
“No, they didn’t,” he agreed, looking at me levelly. “But I’ve read the memories of every nurse and tech at the hospital. No one remembers where the arrangement came from.”
“Ugh.” I scowled at the room in general. How the hell did two monsters send flowers like that and then disappear into oblivion? Better yet, how the hell did they live out in the open and never raise suspicion?
“The same way we do,” Dace answered, shrugging a shoulder when I turned my scowl on him. “We’ve been hiding who we are from the world without being discovered. Why would it be any different for them?”
“Because they’re crazy murderers?” I snapped.
Dace and Ronan flinched. The corner of my dad’s mouth turned down.
Crap.
“Sorry.” I really needed to learn to control what came out of my mouth. Easier said than done though. Being home was as hard as I expected it to be. I felt caged, restless. I couldn’t relax, and I desperately missed Buka. Thanks to the hunters scouring every inch of the woods around town for the pack though, Kalei refused to let her visit me. It sucked.
And my head refused to quit hurting.
The endless barrage of nightmares didn’t help either. Nor did the fact that Sköll and Hati were out there and we couldn’t find them. Not a single trace. The demon wolves could have strolled right up to my door and set the vase down themselves, for all we knew.
That wasn’t an excuse for taking it out on Dace and Ronan though.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, guilt weaving through me.
“It’s fine.” Dace gave me a grim smile.
“We need another way to find them,” I said, giving in to the inevitable.
“We can keep sorting through the myths,” Dad offered.
I glanced at the books stacked precariously on the coffee table and wrinkled my nose. They contained nothing useful. Everyone had a theory on the harbingers of the apocalypse, but no one had anything helpful to say about stopping said harbingers.
“What about Sol’s descendants?” Dace asked, looking at my dad. “Have you or Edwards found anything helpful there?”
Dad shook his head.
“Lovely.” I sighed. Why couldn’t the descendants of gods come with name tags? A forehead tattoo that said “I’m in danger. Save me.” or something suitably obvious would do.
“We need to consider the possibility that they’ve already been killed,” Ronan said.
Dace raked a hand through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands.
You know he’s right, I whispered to him before he could argue with Ronan. I didn’t want to consider the possibility that we were that far behind either, but we couldn’t rule it out. We knew who Mani’s descendants were, but only by sheer luck. We had no clue who Sol’s descendants were, or where to find them, and Dace knew it.
And honestly, I didn’t want to listen to another argument between the guys. If Ronan said it was raining out, Dace took offense. If Dace said the sky was blue, Ronan argued about why. If I had to watch them go at it again, I would strangle one of them. I really would.
“In every life I remember, we found Sol and Mani’s descendants in the same area of the world,” Dace said, his jaw set. “I’m not willing to accept that the rules suddenly changed. Whoever they are, they’ve got to be here.”
“The rules did change.” I shrugged apologetically when he set his gaze on me. “Think about it, Dace. Ronan’s memory is failing. I can’t shift. You and Geri can barely communicate with each other. And Hugin wasn’t even reborn. We’re lucky we’ve made it this far. We can’t pretend things aren’t different this time, because they are. Besides, how much do you really remember about our last lives?”
“I remember enough,” he snapped.
“Do you? Because I don’t. Neither does Ronan. We’re broken, and we can’t pretend that doesn’t change things. We might never find whoever else we’re supposed to protect, if they even exist. For all we know, they’re on the other side of the world, or their line faded away like Freki.”
“Then what do we do?” Dace demanded. Frustration whipped through our bond, crackling like lightning from him. Every line of his body radiated the same intense frustration. His stance was rigid and his jaw set. His eyes blazed with green fire. He wasn’t upset about me siding with Ronan though. The situation in general had Dace on edge.
“I don’t know.” I looked at my dad and Ronan, hoping one of them had an answer because I didn’t. I didn’t know any more than Dace did. I didn’t think any of us really had a clue what we were doing. We didn’t know enough. We weren’t strong enough.
Sometimes, destiny could be a fickle, unhelpful bitch.
“We’ll keep looking,” my dad said with false confidence. Trying, I think, to give us a little hope. “There’s got to be something out there we can use.”
“I’ll go out again tomorrow.” Ronan didn’t look thrilled about the prospect. “Maybe I’ll find something new.”
Dace snorted, his disbelief obvious.
He’s trying, Dace.
Yeah, well, it’s not enough. We have to find them. His fear twisted through me like smoke. I won’t lose you again. He reached out to touch my face. His fingers trembled against my cheek, the emotion in his eyes stabbing like knives into my heart. I can’t lose you again.
Ronan met my gaze briefly and then glanced away.
I silently prayed for a miracle.
Unfortunately, miracles were in short supply these days. We were going to have to get ourselves out of this. Find a way to protect ourselves.
“I want a gun.” I blurted the thought I’d been quietly playing with for days.
Thre
e sets of wide eyes settled on me, making it evident Dace hadn’t homed in on that particular line of thought before now. No one said anything for a long moment as they processed my confession.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ronan said then.
“Are you kidding me?” Dace yelled at the same time my dad said, “Absolutely not!”
I cringed as they both turned to glare daggers at Ronan.
So much for forestalling another argument.
“She can’t protect herself like this,” Ronan said, a lot more calmly than I would have with Dace and my dad both looking like they were ready to throw a punch. Ronan jerked his chin in my direction as if to illustrate his point.
Dace growled aloud at the reminder that I needed help to walk across the room.
“She’s smart enough to use a gun safely,” Ronan said, eying Dace levelly.
I don’t think Dace scared him in the least. Lucky Ronan. When Dace growled at me, I wanted to hide beneath the covers. I knew he’d never hurt me, but reconciling fierce alpha Dace with scared boyfriend Dace was an exercise in futility, and I’d given up trying. There were two sides to him. Two very different, very confusing sides.
“I’ve made it through forty-four years without bringing a gun into my home to protect my family,” Dad said, his voice soft and intractable at once. “I won’t bring one in now.”
Ronan arched a brow at me as if to ask if I was going to let them make this decision for me.
I squared my shoulders.
“You’re not getting a gun, Arionna.” Dad cut me off before I could even speak up in my defense. He looked at me, expression firm. “End of discussion.”
Dace nodded an agreement, a smug edge to the emotions he sent filtering through to me.
I huffed, narrowing my eyes at both of them. “I’m an adult, you know.”
“You’ll always be my daughter.”
“This should be my decision.”
“Why?” Dace asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a bad idea.”
“Says you,” I muttered, turning my face away from him and all of his superiority and smugness. Men were irritating.
“And virtually every shooting related news article ever written,” he retorted, refusing to be cowed that easily. He placed his hand on my arm. “Accidents happen, Arionna. Guns discharge. People die. I won’t let that be you.”
