Rylan jumps in the passenger seat, giving a nod to Buff Dude who sits in the driver's seat. I don’t get much time to ponder on what the hell is going on as the guy speeds off with Rylan giving him directions to my house.
“So, wanna tell us about a certain book you read from before or after you tell us what just happened in the alley?” the Buff Dude asks sharply, sounding none too sensitive, even when his eyes spot me in the rear view mirror rubbing at the tender spots where the creep’s hands dug into my flesh. Asshole.
“Silas, man. Maybe you should wait to question her until we get her home safe” mutters the blonde from beside me.
So that’s what said asshole is named.
My response isn’t a highly intelligent one, but it’s all I can manage to push out through the pain in my throat and the shock that decides now is the best time to make an appearance.
“Fuck.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Silas
“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know what it was?! And what about you? You’re a fucking demon, too?! Those are things you tell your best friend of six years, you jackass!” Livvie yells, referring to the Grimoire she read from the night before and in response to Rylan explaining to her about his half demon status. She pouts angrily like a five year old and looks far too cute in the process. What? When did I start thinking things were cute? Since confronting her at the club, it seems. I run my hand through my pitch black hair in aggravation.
All five of us are spread around Livvie’s living room, her slouching in the middle of the three seater sofa with her chin resting on an ice pack to soothe the damage that Ghoul fucker did to her neck and her arms crossed in indignation. Said best friend sits on the vintage chest that seems to be used as a coffee table directly in front of her. I’m stood near the door, arms crossed against my chest, while Lathan lounges lazily on the smaller sofa to the right of Livvie’s, his signature smirk in place, and Chase sits crossed leg on the floor, his back leaning against the wall under the window, his playful blue eyes watching the verbal tennis match between the witch and the half-breed best friend like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. I’ll admit, even I’m amused, and I’m not easily amused.
After we arrived at her house and got introductions out of the way, the three of us just spent the last two hours witnessing Livvie’s discovery of her genetics. It seems our summoner had no idea she was a witch, one descended from a long line of powerful witches, and she apparently summoned three demons without even knowing it. How the fuck one does that, I will never know, but I’m more than intrigued by the situation we’ve all found ourselves in.
She also found out that her best friend of six years just so happened to be part demon, too. Chances, right? I take my proverbial hat off to her, though, because she hasn’t freaked out once. The only thing that gave away her shock was the widening of her eyes and a very quiet “What the shit?” escaping her lips. While she may not be in hysterics, the woman is mighty pissed, though to be fair, she seems to have good reason from the sounds of things.
Although she may be taking things somewhat in stride, I’m suffering with a serious internal struggle. An array of feelings and emotions for our little witch course through me. It’s been like this since my eyes landed on the tiny redhead as she sat on the stool with far too much leg on display to prevent me from checking her out thoroughly before approaching her. I keep feeling bursts of protectiveness every time she frowns, longing when she looks at me, and the urge to kiss her, amongst other things, when she pouts. These strange desires and urges just won’t seem to leave my system, yet I have no idea why. I don’t know this woman, she’s a stranger to me. I’ve known her for barely three hours, and she accidentally summoned us, so why am I pining over her? One look at the other guys in the room, Rylan included, tells me I’m not alone in my struggle. Hello, uncharted territory.
“Livvie,” Rylan groans in exasperation before raising his voice to yell back, “Two things here. One, it’s a creepy fucking attic. Why would you go into an attic at night? Have you forgotten every horror movie you’ve ever watched in your life?!”
Livvie opens her mouth to reply, likely about to point out his evasion to the second issue she brought up, but before a word can leave her mouth, Rylan presses forward, “and two, the fucking book was glowing. Glowing, Livvie. Wouldn’t that cause some alarm bells to ring in that beautiful head of yours?”
“I was totally wasted, Ry. I had my own uptempo background music playing in my head like I was the star of my own movie, not alarm bells. Plus, drunk me is not a good influence and very convincing. She told me to go into the attic, so I did. She told me to read from the weird looking book, so I did. Drunk me wants what drunk me wants, and she usually gets it,” she says, reining in her temper to feign innocence, shrugging her shoulders and throwing her arms out in a “what can you do” gesture while she uses her chin to keep the ice pack in place.
My lips twitch with a smile I refuse to let loose at her fake nonchalance. Chase and Lathan, however, have no qualms about showing their amusement at the little spitfire we’ve found ourselves tethered to by mistake. If I wasn’t already intrigued by her, that would have done it for me.
Their laughter goes on for a few minutes, and when I look back at Livvie, I see her trying to fight her own smile. Her little nostril flares and lip twitches are what cause my smile to finally break through. I’m not a smiler, so this is a rare occasion for me, but I can’t help it.
The woman isn’t fooling anyone, though. A fact that’s confirmed when Rylan pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head back, taking what seem to be calming breaths, before chastising her “Buttercup, this is serious”.
Those words cause any humor our spitfire was trying to hide to vanish completely. Anger and hurt begin to take its place again, her features hardening the longer she looks at Rylan. My chest pinches uncomfortably at the clear hurt in her expression, causing an unusual ache to form. The need reach out and comfort her somehow grows to a near overpowering compulsion, but I manage to push it down and stay where I am, silently observing.
“You know what’s serious, Rylan?” she asks in an eerily calm tone that even has the hairs on my arms rising. I’m one tough son of a bitch, but I really wouldn’t want to be him right about now. Man’s about to get one hell of a verbal lashing from the looks of things. There’s a fire in her eyes when she continues before he has a chance to reply, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I’m a witch-”
She stumbles over the word witch, allowing a glimpse beneath her bravado, but she carries on. My increasing respect for the woman ratcheting up that much more when the steel in her voice hardens, “-and that you knew but kept it from me for six years? Or how about that I got attacked for who knows what by an ass smelling weirdo that you call a Ghoul, whatever the fuck that is, outside a club in which I was told that I’d somehow summoned three demons without my knowledge or even knowing was possible? Or maybe, maybe the serious part is that you’re a fucking demon-”
“Half demon,” Rylan interrupts like he isn’t getting his ass chewed. Dumbass.
Ignoring him, she continues, “-and you kept that from me, too. What happened to no secrets, Ry? Hmm? Because it sure seems to me like you’ve been keeping a few from me. Some that I had every right to know”.
The last two sentences make Rylan flinch from the anger and hurt she pours into them. There’s that need to comfort her again. I don’t know her from Adam, yet the need to protect and support her through what she’s going through simply won’t leave me. Rylan goes to say something, but Livvie cuts him off quietly.
“You even had my mother’s necklace, Ry. For who the hell knows how long, and you hid that from me, too. What’s up with that, Muffin?”
Rylan flinches again at the use of the nickname and the soft, sad way she says it, her anger disappearing, only the hurt lingering now. Lathan and Chase are gazing at Livvie with the same look of yearning and desire to reach out to comfort her
, too. In fact, Chase looks like he’s about ten seconds away from snatching her off the sofa and scooping her up for a hug. What’s wrong with us?
“I’m so sorry, Buttercup. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was going to explain everything tonight, though, I swear. You have to believe me. I didn’t want to frighten you or run you off,” Rylan tries to explain, reaching over to hold her hands. She snatches her hands away from his. She moves the old ice pack and picks up the fresh one I brought her, placing it against the red fingerprints on her neck. She does, however, allow him to put his hands on her knees. I guess that’s what six years of friendship will allow.
A weird little spike of jealousy pierces my chest, at both the touching and the simple fact that this man has known the little witch for six years, when I’ve only known her for mere hours. I smother it down, because I’m obviously going crazy and rationality has left the building. I force myself to focus on their conversation instead of his thumbs rubbing the inside of Livvie’s knees.
“When have I ever been one to scare easily? You almost piss yourself every time we watch a scary movie, and I don’t flinch at all,” Livvie quips back, causing Lathan and Chase to start laughing all over again. Despite my surprise at her response, I smirk when I see Rylan's mouth pop open in shock and notice Livvie’s mouth forming a smirk to mirror my own, clearly proud that she managed to get a dig in. The smirk disappears not a minute later, her face growing serious again before she speaks.
“No more secrets, Ry. Starting now. Deal?” she asks, already over her anger, which surprises me again. This woman is full of them, by the looks of things.
“Deal. I promise, no more secrets,” agrees Rylan, though he gets a peculiar look in his eyes.
Ahhh, I get it now. He’s in love with her. Makes sense with the way he was acting in the club. What he fails to spot is the scary little twinkle in her eyes that I catch right before it disappears. She’s up to something, if that look is anything to go by.
“Now all that’s settled, what do we do? We have a Grimoire we need to look at, and we need to figure out what the hell went down with that Ghoul in the alley,” I question the now silent room, breaking in before Rylan can confess his love for her or Livvie declares war against him.
Livvie looks at me, and I get lost in her beautiful, bright green eyes until they lower, slowly scanning over every inch of me, her gaze leaving a trail of fire across everywhere it lingers. If she keeps looking at me like that, I will not be held responsible for my actions. I fake a cough, a knowing smirk spreading on my face when she snaps her eyes back to mine, a cute rosy hue creeping up her cheeks when she realizes she got caught checking me out. I can see Rylan frowning, so I guess he caught that, too.
She clears her throat once, twice, before answering me, “Uh, well, I’m going to bed. Today has been a crazy birthday, and I don’t know if I can deal with much more crazy right now. You can explain to me what the thing in the alley was tomorrow once I’ve slept and had a bowl of coffee. I think I’ve dealt with enough for one night. A girl can only take so much,” and then she quietly adds, “that’s what she said” at the end of her sentence. She probably doesn’t realize our hearing is better than the average human, and each one of us heard her little joke.
Lathan and Chase are looking at her with pure amusement, Chase smothering his laughter behind a fake cough.
“Well, you guys can crash on the sofas, if you want? I’ve got sleeping bags and blankets and stuff upstairs that you can use if one of you wants to sleep on the floor, and we can work out what to do tomorrow,” she says, looking over each of us.
It’s Lathan who answers her.
“Sure, Red. That works. I’ll take the floor, so sleeping bags would be great, thanks”. He gives her a wink which causes another flush to race up to her cheeks.
She ignores her red cheeks and raises her eyebrows at the new nickname, but she just shakes her head instead of addressing it and makes her way to the stairs. Her arm brushes mine as she walks by, which causes an odd, yet not entirely unpleasing, current to trail up my arm. It’s gone as soon as her skin disconnects from mine. She briefly freezes at the contact but before I can question it, she’s turning around and facing Rylan.
“You can stay in your room if you don’t want to go home yet. I’ve put the new bedding on and everything, so you’re welcome to stay” she offers.
“Thanks, Buttercup,” he says, his frown at her checking me out finally disappearing. He walks up to her and gives her a kiss on the temple before whispering in her ear “I have one more thing I need to talk to you about, but it can wait until we don’t have an audience.”
She glances at Lathan, Chase, and I, then turns her head back to face Rylan before nodding, “Okay, sure.” Rylan, happy with her reply, gives her a hug and walks up the stairs to what I’m assuming is his room. The soft click of the door latch sliding in place indicates that he’s shut the door after himself.
“I’ll go get you the blankets,” she says, but before she can take a step, I reach out for her arm to stop her before I can think better of it. That same current shoots up my arm again from where I touch her bare arm. She looks down at my hand resting on her arm with a confused frown on her beautiful face, but she doesn’t shake it off. She looks up at me, the look in her eyes telling me she’s feeling the same whirlwind of emotions I’ve felt all night, as well as the confusion.
“You good? I’d have thought a person would freak out a little more about this kind of information overload. You moved passed Rylan hiding shit from you pretty quickly, too” I comment as though it’s my business, blocking out the current travelling up my arm so I can focus on checking her wellbeing, despite having no idea why I’ve suddenly become so concerned for her. Three and a half hours isn’t enough time to garner these kind of reactions. It’s definitely something I need to figure out before I go caveman and throw her over my shoulder to cart her away somewhere she’ll be kept safe.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she tells me, lying through her teeth. I don’t know how I know, but one glance at the other guys tells me they can sense the same thing. She’s not as fine as she’s trying to make out. I ignore the lie, because I can’t justify how I could possibly know that she’s fibbing when I hardly know her. Instead, she continues “Weirdly enough, the whole witch thing kind of makes sense to me now that the shock has worn off, and I can think about it properly, so I’m not totally freaked out over it,” she says before dramatically whispering, “I named my cat Salem, so what does that say about me?”
I surprise myself, along with Lathan and Chase, when I chuckle. I don’t remember the last time I actually laughed. If Chase and Lathan’s baffled expressions are anything to go by, it’s been quite a while. What is this woman doing to me?
“As for Rylan,” she continues, a dangerous smile stretching across her face, and her eyes full of mischief, “Well, let’s just say he’s not as forgiven as he may think. Payback’s a real bitch.”
She finishes the sentence with an evil chuckle and villainous hand rub, which in turn causes me to laugh again. Seriously, what is she doing to me?
She smiles at me once I’ve stopped laughing and tilts her head to the side slightly. She shocks me when she remarks, “You have a great laugh, you know.”
I give her a small grin, because I’m apparently a smiler when she’s around, and another one of her blushes rises up her cheeks. She looks down to the floor, coughs and shakes her head. She goes to turn away, but I stop her before she moves away from me.
“How’s your neck? The redness seems to have gone down a little more,” the concern I can’t seem to shake shining like a single bulb in a pitch black room.
“A little sore, but I’ll live,” she gives me a soft smile, and before I can hold her up with more conversation, she says, “I’ll go get those blankets for you guys”.
She’s up the stairs before I can stop her, my worry for her still sitting uneasily in my chest. I turn and make my way back into the living room where I se
e Lathan and Chase with their hands over their mouths trying to hide their laughter.
“Which part are you assholes laughing at?” I question with an eyebrow raise.
Lathan is the first to reply to me, seeing as though Chase is still trying to smother his snickering.
“Silas, man, you hardly ever laugh, and she made you laugh twice in a matter of minutes,” comes his response, chuckles continuing to escape him. His amusement mixed with awe as he taunts, “She must have superpowers or some shit because that’s talent, right there.”
I glare at the dick before Chase’s reply to my initial question makes my glare instantly disappear, “I so want to be there when that woman gets her revenge on him. I’d pay very good money to witness that showdown.”
I roll my eyes at the two, but I can’t help the smile that makes its way on my face before responding, “She’s something, alright.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Livvie
I’m a big fat stinkin’ liar, that’s what I am. Not freaking out, my ass. I’m a witch. An actual goddamn witch. I. AM. A. WITCH. I need a brown paper bag because I think I’m hyperventilating or something. I can’t breathe. Did someone turn off the air? I think someone stole my air.
There’s a knock at the door, and I see Rylan poke his head around the door from where I’m sitting on the floor in nothing but boy shorts and one of Ry’s old, grey t-shirts I stole years ago. I changed out of the ridiculous witch costume, har har Muffin, after dropping off the assortment of blankets and stuff to the demons, I repeat the demons, in my living room. I shove my head back between my legs and continue rocking myself back and forth.
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