Three Trials (The Dark Side Book 2)

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Three Trials (The Dark Side Book 2) Page 9

by Kristy Cunning


  I swallow my really curious and irrational jealousy down and refuse to ask Jude who Lake is.

  “I can do this on my own,” Jude tells them. “With just one of us, it’d be less likely for us to get caught once she gets me down there.”

  “How about I just go and all of you stay safe and sound up here?” I ask them, hoping that is going to be the new plan of action.

  “You can’t siphon there on your own, and Lake would never take you whole,” Ezekiel tells me absently as he starts massaging my foot with one hand.

  My eyes almost roll back in my head because it feels incredible. I might even like it almost as much as an orgasm. I didn’t even know to ask for this, because I’ve never seen them do it to the other girls over the past few years.

  “Then I’ll follow her around until she siphons below, and I’ll hitch a ride without her knowing. I’m positive I could siphon out of hell,” I prattle on, suppressing a moan while Ezekiel makes the rest of my body envious of my foot.

  “Too risky. Lake knows how to navigate Lucifer’s illusion in the royal wing. Her father has served directly under him for years. He’ll sense her if she goes snooping, but he won’t know I’m there because I’m not yet pledged,” Jude says dismissively.

  He glances around at the three of them, a hint of something flashing in his eyes too fast for me to discern what, before he schools his expressions.

  “Then I’m coming with you. You’re not going alone,” I tell him.

  “He’ll be with Lake,” Gage says, grinning at me like he sees me already failing at my attempt to pretend not to care.

  “Lake can’t snoop, which means he’ll be on his own,” I say carefully, not admitting to the outrageous jealousy he’s weirdly trying to provoke. “I’m going.”

  Jude doesn’t even argue, much to my surprise.

  Why do I feel like I’m being played all of the sudden?

  “Then be ready by lunch tomorrow,” Jude tells me before backing up.

  Just to pretend it’s no big deal he’s leaving instead of joining us, which I know we’d all really like, I lean over and tap Ezekiel’s shoulder.

  “Mr. Magic Fingers, am I a virgin?”

  Confusion crosses his features as he seems to think about that. “I’m not really sure. We’ve never had a virgin before, so I’m not entirely certain what to look for.”

  “See? It’s not as easy as it sounds,” Kai tells Gage.

  The entire room dissolves into laughter, and the conversation changes. The dynamic shifts before my eyes as Kai’s arm drops around my shoulders, and Gage’s fingers twine with mine.

  Ezekiel continues to gently hold onto my foot, as the three of them talk and laugh about things I’m not completely understanding.

  I glance up, noticing Jude at the very end of the long hallway that I can see, since he left my door open.

  He stands in front of an empty room that has no purpose, just propped against the frame like it’s his room, as he simply stares at us like he’s studying the image and trying to place it somewhere.

  I’m distracted when Kai draws my attention.

  “Tell us something memorable about the days you were watching us before we knew you were watching,” he says casually.

  “You don’t have to make it sound so creepy. It’s really not.”

  He just grins.

  “I always sat at the end of the table. One of you on my left, and one of you on my right. But it always changed, because you never all stayed in the same seats every time. It often felt like you were rotating so you could take turns being the closest to me during our table-dinner nights,” I say distractedly, my attention snagged on the weird cat on TV as he tries super hard to get some lasagna.

  Why have I not seen this cartoon sooner?

  I don’t realize they’ve gone silent until I look around to see them all studying me with indecipherable looks on their faces.

  “What?” I ask, worried I’ve just taken steps back again.

  Ezekiel’s smile starts slowly spreading.

  “We used to always sit in the same spots. For centuries,” Kai says, almost as though he’s thinking aloud.

  “Until about five or so years ago,” Gage adds quietly.

  There are totally butterflies right now, because it almost sounds like they’re saying they sensed me without ever realizing it and gravitated toward me the way I always have them.

  Gage sighs as he drops to his back. “Jude better come around soon. I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m only so fucking strong,” he tells the other two.

  “Why did you wear combat boots with your tuxes?” I ask, as though this is the perfect time for that forgotten question.

  Laughter follows that, though I’m not sure what’s so funny about it. No one even bothers to answer me. They tend to laugh when I’m actually being serious, and stay serious when I’m trying to be funny.

  When I remember Jude watching, my eyes dart up to see the vacant spot where he was. My heart squeezes a little bit, because even when he’s an ass, I still can’t stand the thought of him feeling left out.

  With a sigh, I curl up closest to Kai’s side, since I haven’t had nearly as much close time with him, and let his arm drape around me. He doesn’t kiss my head, but his hand stays fixed to my ass.

  We stay up late, watching cartoons, laughing at stupid jokes, and drinking more alcohol.

  The entire time, I can’t even enjoy it as much as I should, and they all feel it too. After all, Jude’s a much bigger piece of their lives than mine.

  One person is missing.

  Chapter 10

  A smear of red polish goes along the side of my toe, and I curse as I wiggle on top of the bar. Apparently, the skill to paint one’s toenails is not in my arsenal of hidden talents.

  “Damn it, that girl made it look so easy on the tutorial. I’m tempted to find her address and go slap her across the face for misleading me,” I growl, streaking the side of my toe again.

  “The kitchen bar is usually used for something other than painting one’s toes,” Kai says idly from beside me as he drinks his coffee and sharpens his sai.

  It’s almost noon, and I’m supposed to be ready by the time Jude returns from soul collecting with the other three. Kai overslept.

  Kai. Overslept.

  It was a first for him. So he stayed in bed with me all morning and into noon. I was beat.

  “Can you keep a secret?” I ask on a sigh.

  He mimes the motion of zipping his lips, never glancing at me, and I go phantom, imagine my toenails painted the exact same shade of red, and all colored inside the lines. Then I turn whole and wiggle my toes in a pair of snazzy sandals that showcases them best.

  Kai glances over at my feet and smirks.

  “It was actually a very thoughtful gift, but I’m apparently terrible at such girly things when I have to actually do them physically.”

  “You’re saying you’re spoiled,” he suggests.

  “Just don’t tell Ezekiel,” I say on a sigh as I screw the lid back on the nail polish.

  The guys appear in the kitchen, and Ezekiel flashes me a grin when he sees me holding the red polish, while showcasing my pretty new red toenails.

  However, he looks a little unimpressed when he sees my toenails, and looks over his shoulder as Jude jogs up the stairs.

  I expect Kai to sell me out and tell him I’m a cheater, but he just keeps sharpening his sai.

  “How bad was it?” Kai asks absently.

  Ezekiel shrugs as he props up beside me. Gage goes to pull out sandwich stuff.

  “More than usual but not too many for us to handle, even the day after the third trials. It almost feels like today’s task was just to test us and see us after the trials—energy levels and all.”

  Kai flicks his gaze over at me. “I bet Jude didn’t look as well rested as the two of you,” he quips, smirking when he hears Jude stomping back down the stairs much harder than necessary.

  I’m too busy preening
and trying to get Ezekiel to tell me how awesome I did at painting my toenails for my very first time. He doesn’t know I cheated, after all.

  “You ready?” Jude asks me, his gaze not meeting mine as he pulls a black masquerade mask from behind his back.

  “Are we going to a party?” I ask, edging my foot over the counter, pushing it closer to Ezekiel.

  “I’d rather no one see my face, and a masquerade mask isn’t too uncommon in the royal part of hell,” he tells me without ever glancing my way.

  Ezekiel is paying him more attention than my freaking feet.

  “For fuck’s sake, so what if she cheated? She spent an hour trying to paint the damn things just because you bought her the fucking polish. Give her a compliment already,” Kai says, confusing me, until I realize he’s angrily directing that toward Ezekiel.

  “It’s that obvious I cheated?” I ask dryly, as Ezekiel’s grin grows to take up his entire face.

  “First timers make a mess,” Ezekiel says with a shrug. “But yours look perfect.”

  I beam. “Thank you. That’s the closest to a compliment any of you have really paid me. I’ll take it,” I say as I slide off the bar and go phantom, fashioning myself a long, understated sexy dress.

  Silver high heels offer the black gown a pretty contrast, along with a silvery mask that makes it look like we’re ready for the ball. Even if he is wearing tactical gear with his mask instead of a tux.

  I’m actually sick of seeing them in tuxes since the trials. Bad memories are involved with tuxes.

  Jude arches an eyebrow as he sweeps his gaze over me. “I can’t even right now,” he says, batting a hand in my direction before reaching through me and siphoning us before I can tell the others goodbye.

  However, I don’t complain as we land in a parking lot outside of a condemned shopping mart.

  “This is a creepy meeting place,” I tell him, twirling around in my phantom form. “And I think I’m entirely overdressed.”

  “Remember this is a very important contact to all of us, and don’t do anything to ruin that relationship,” he says quietly, as though he’s worried someone may be listening.

  “Why would I do anything to ruin it?” I ask suspiciously.

  He gives me a look.

  “Fine,” I grumble, rolling my eyes and deciding not to argue, since I’m supposed to be pretending I don’t care so much. “I promise.”

  We stay quiet after that, for a very boringly long time.

  No Lake shows up.

  A sizzling sound has me zapping myself across the lot to a wall, and Jude is right behind me, both of us staring at the burning words as they appear.

  It’s an address in New Orleans. Why is that—

  A tingle passes through me when Jude’s hand touches my phantom hip, and suddenly we’re inside a hotel.

  My breath catches, and I race behind him, still in phantom form as he walks to the front desk. The guy behind the counter looks up with a bored expression on his face, despite the numerous weapons strapped to Jude’s body like he’s going to war.

  The guy never speaks to Jude, and Jude never says a word. A key card is passed over without any other exchange, and Jude walks over to press the elevator buttons.

  As soon as the doors open, he boards, and I join him.

  “What’s going on?” I ask him warily when we’re all alone on the elevator.

  His eyes flick up to the tiny red dot on a panel, and the plaque under it informs us there is indeed a camera watching the elevator. Right. He can’t talk to me in here.

  When the doors open, he steps off first, but I’m right behind him, scanning the hallway. I really don’t like this cloak-and-dagger stuff. It’s making me paranoid.

  Honest people don’t have their friends sneak around like criminals to meet them, right? Clearly, Lake is not as awesome as I am.

  “I don’t think bringing in new people at this point is the best idea. I know my opinion doesn’t matter, but we learned a lot about the Devil’s intentions through the trials,” I state, knowing he can’t argue with me in the hallway.

  He holds the key card up to a door, and he pushes through it.

  Pulling out a compass-looking contraption that looks oddly familiar, Jude moves to the desk in the room. He opens it, does something to it, and then leaves it open.

  As he draws all the curtains completely shut, he pulls off his mask, and I lose mine as well.

  “We can speak and not be heard, even if the room is bugged now,” he tells me.

  “What if someone is pressed to the wall with a glass to their ear?” I point out.

  I love it when he looks exasperated with me. It means I have at least some effect on him. The wrong effect, but I’ll take it.

  “That device makes it so that only silence can be heard in this room, unless you’re physically in this room.”

  “I’m not physically in this room, but—”

  “Just stop talking,” he says, his hands up like he ‘just can’t with me’ right now.

  “Why did she send you to this place?” I ask him as he pulls out his phone, but doesn’t do anything. “Shouldn’t you tell the guys where we are?”

  He shakes his head. “We never text locations. Phones are too easily traced. My GPS is off, but anyone could be reading our messages. They know Lake is paranoid and would send me to another location to meet,” he tells me.

  I poke my head through the outside wall, looking down and noting we’re on Bourbon Street. I know this because the guys come here on occasion when they’re taking a much-needed break from all the reaping.

  Pulling back in, I face him as he pours himself a glass of the drink I got shit-faced on last night. I’ll pass today. I need to be level-headed.

  “How do you know Lake?” I ask him, sitting down on the bed.

  “Are you going to talk the entire time we have to wait?” he groans.

  “Does she always keep you waiting so long?” I muse.

  He rolls his eyes as he throws back some of the drink and starts removing his straps of weapons with his free hand.

  “She’s paranoid. She’ll watch the outside of the hotel for a while. She’ll watch the lobby. Then she’ll gradually move up to her own room and watch the door. Then, when she’s certain I haven’t been followed, she’ll come in.”

  “That’s a lot of paranoia,” I agree, as though that’s what he’s saying.

  He studies me over the rim of his glass when he sits down—weapon free—and stares at me.

  “We met Lake over a century ago. She went into the trials a few decades back, and because of her, we were able to get a lot of information about the process of selection.”

  Alarm bells go off inside my head.

  “Wait, you thought Manella was in charge,” I remind him. “And he wasn’t. Sounds like she’s feeding you bad information.”

  “Or the Devil lied. Which is far more likely, since he made it sound like he had our backs right before he shoved us into the third trial to die,” he points out. “Lucifer is playing with us, and Lake is hesitant to meet with me because she’s worried she’s next. There was a culling in the underworld shortly before the third trial.”

  My eyebrows lift.

  “He eliminated all his guards—both hell’s throat and royal guards. Lake is an escort, and half of her kind have been replaced because the others were already recycled,” he goes on. “She thinks it has something to do with everything going on with us. Something big is happening, Keyla.”

  I wave my hand dismissively. “I’ve decided that name no longer fits me. While I have some sentimental attachment to it, and might keep it as a middle name, I need a new name to define me now. Something badass.”

  He blinks at me before muttering something under his breath that I probably wouldn’t like, so I don’t ask him to repeat it.

  “Why’d you agree to let me come with you so easily?”

  “Because if you’re here, I don’t have to worry about the three of them doing something stu
pid while I’m not there to reel them back,” he fires back without even having to think about it.

  I knew it seemed too easy.

  “Why do you think I’ll cause problems for you and this contact?” I ask him, reminding him of what he said in the parking lot.

  His lips twitch, but he doesn’t respond immediately. “You gave your word you wouldn’t, so the reason doesn’t matter,” he says evasively.

  “Why the culling?” I ask him, going back to the matter at hand.

  He shrugs a shoulder. “I have no idea. Unless he felt he couldn’t trust any of them, given the Lamar deal. Which would mean he had no part in what happened to Lamar.”

  “Which conflicts with our theory that the Devil has been behind all of it. What if he’s just behind part of it?” I ask him, my eyes not moving from his.

  He raps his fingers on the edge of the chair, smirking like he’s already figured that part out and I’m slow to the game.

  “This is what you were all discussing last night, isn’t it?”

  “When you stormed through for an alcohol run? Yes. Yes, it is,” he states with a bored drawl.

  Frowning, I look down at my pretty toenails in my elegant, high-heeled sandals.

  “Why didn’t the others tell me?” I ask quietly. They spent the night in my room, after all.

  “Don’t look so devastated,” he says bitterly. “They’re too busy trying for the impossible to think straight right now. Your fault, really. The evil pussy is just backfiring a little, it seems.”

  This is what we do. Line our insults with snark, never being real with each other. Jude is quite literally never going to stop wanting to hate me, because he sees me as…impossible.

  “Despite what you think, there is no jealousy between the three of them. It is possible,” I say on a sigh.

  “A few nights does not make the impossible possible, comoara trădătoare. It takes longer for such resentments to fester, and they always do. Just like there will always be a price. Just like there will always be a favorite.”

  That last part makes my eyes roll. “My favorite changes based on who has made me happiest at the moment. I’m rather capricious that way.”

 

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