Finding Lily

by Emma Shade

  “You heard his thoughts, didn’t you?” Blake whispered, his breath stroking my face.

  I nodded as an affirmative, and said, “I’m sorry about everything. I better get in the shower and cleaned up. I feel kinda gross.”

  Depositing a kiss on my forehead, Blake pulled away and grinned. “Don’t apologize. Besides, you could be covered in sewer water and I’d still think you’re gorgeous.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the thought. I highly doubted anyone would get within fifty feet of me if I stunk that badly.

  Blake said his goodbye’s, placed another kiss on my forehead, and left the apartment. It left me at a total loss. I had no clue what to do now that I was close to the men in my life again.

  My scattered emotions flickered back to the premonition between Blake and Ashton. Fate, being the cruel bitch she was, refused to reveal my final decision between the two men in my life. And I hated it.

  *****

  After letting Sam know what I was doing, I quickly used the restroom, showered, and then shaved. Once finished, I opened the curtain to see Paige staring back at me.

  I let out a choked scream, grasping my chest to calm my beating heart and ripping the towel from the rack to cover myself. “Don’t you give anyone any privacy?”

  She shrugged, and said, “Not really. Besides, we’re friends and you’ve seen me naked before.”

  “Not by choice, Paige. You don’t seem to understand that your nakedness makes me uncomfortable.”

  “It’s not like I’m lying on the floor with legs spread-eagle to show you my vagina,” she scoffed, her brown eyes twinkling with humor.

  “Yeah, thank God for small miracles,” I countered.

  “Anyway,” Paige said, “we recovered your phone today. The police missed your jackets hanging up at Mystique, so we snuck in and retrieved them.”

  I stepped out of the shower and onto the rug, reaching for another towel to wrap in my hair. “How did you manage that?”

  She frowned, pursing her lips. “Well, believe it or not, that Ward guy let us in.”

  The blood drained from my face, and I gaped at Paige like she’d grown another head. “The Contingent leader?”

  “Yep. The one and only,” she admitted, rummaging through Ashton’s medicine cabinet above the toilet.

  I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat, picturing the golden-eyed jerk who hated me for no reason and called me an abomination.

  “Any who,” Paige said, pulling out a bottle and reading over the label, “the guy suddenly wants to help us for some unknown reason. Sure, it’s sketchy at best, but the man knows who the mole is. Well, sort of, he only knows what he looks like and that they call him ‘Abaddon’. Talk about a loser, using a name like that.”

  “Are you sure that he wasn’t involved in the shooting?” I asked, choking back the fear of being harmed, or worse, killed.

  “No. But Ward swears it was the Enforcers. I’m sure the Enforcers will say it was the Contingent. Somehow the informant, or whatever they call the douche, has been paramount in helping them. And stringing us along like a game of strategic chess.”

  “And you know this is true how?”

  Paige lifted her shoulders, and answered, “We don’t. But how else would the assassins find you everywhere you go? And why, of all things, would Ward and the Contingent invite you to a public club just to effing shoot you in front of everyone? You know as well as I do vampires like their secrecy. Unlike the Enforcers who attacked you in a damn hotel.”

  As she pulled out another bottle of something without a label, she peered through the liquid and tilted it to the light. I watched her, discerning the events over the last few days. Dressed in only my towel, I shivered from the cool air seeping in from the open door of the bathroom.

  The conjurer’s Enforcers found us almost within days of our arrival in Las Vegas. The vampire Contingent discovered my location inside Ashton’s private residence. A mole, or the person they called “Abaddon”, was possibly behind the attacks as of late.

  I brushed my teeth and observed Paige snoop through every nook and cranny of Ashton’s bathroom.

  Somebody, who knew our exact location at all times, was spilling the beans per say. I ran through the people I loved and couldn’t picture any of them putting my life on the line. Ashton’s suspicions about Blake and Alistair were wrong. It had to be an outsider.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The next morning, and after a long and restful sleep, I stretched with a yawn. The apartment was quiet in the wee hours of the morning, and I headed towards the kitchen to start coffee.

  Paige snored on the couch, her copper tinted hair the only thing visible from under the blanket. Sam slept on the floor next to the couch, cocooned in a sleeping bag with his T-shirt as a pillow.

  The coffee machine gurgled and sputtered to life. The bitter, heady smell filled the atmosphere as I impatiently waited for the carafe to fill enough for at least one cup. Neither Sam nor Paige stirred, and I sighed in relief. They needed sleep just as much as I had. Pouring a cup of coffee, I saturated the black liquid with hazelnut creamer and added a few tablespoons of sugar.

  Dressed in nothing but a tank top, sans bra, and baggy sweatpants, I slipped on a pair of flip-flops and made my way quietly down the stairs to the VIP area of the club. The smell of stale cigarette smoke infused the air, even though the space was spotless after Revive’s Saturday night crowd. The only light in the space at seven in the morning was the illumination inside the fridges encased in glass and the red exit sign at the back entrance.

  I plopped myself down in the nearest bar stool soaking up the peace and quiet. It was odd seeing the VIP area so empty. Sporadically the refrigerators hummed to life, their buzz at odds with the dark, quiet space.

  Gary, Ashton’s favorite body guard, strolled in to VIP and stopped when he saw me. Setting his phone on the bar next to me, he said, “Ms. Canton, what are you doing up so early this morning?”

  Holding an arm across my chest to hide the fact I skipped my bra, I sipped the coffee with the other hand, and said, “I woke up early and wanted to get out for a little bit to enjoy some quiet. What are you doing up?”

  He glanced around the space, and shrugged. “I usually do a perimeter check at all hours of the day. I’ve been doing it more so recently, especially with all the threats. You just never know who could get inside the doors anymore.”

  “You aren’t kidding. Where’s Ashton and Blake?”

  Gary, all hard muscles and a chest build like a wall, crossed his arms, bicep muscles straining against the sleeve of his red T-shirt. “Ashton is running some errands, and Blake is probably asleep in the guest room upstairs.”

  “Oh. What errands could he be running this early in the morning?” I asked, disappointed that Ashton hadn’t checked on me throughout the night.

  He shrugged, scrutinizing me with his hard eyes. He said, “Really, it’s none of your business. But if Ashton wants to tell you, he will.”

  “Okay,” I replied with a sarcastic singsong voice.

  “Are you going to be down here for a while, Ms. Canton?” Gary questioned, glancing at the door of the apartment.

  I frowned, taking in the way his eyes darted at the exits and the apartment entrance. Either this man was hiding something, or he wasn’t too keen on playing babysitter with his boss’s love interest. “I’m fine here by myself, Gary. I can’t stay cooped up inside that apartment for the rest of my life. Contrary to popular belief, I can somewhat take care of myself.”

  “Still, you are recovering from a gunshot wound. I doubt Ashton would want you out and about by yourself in case there are complications,” Gary said.

  “Fine,” I sighed and removed myself from the bar stool. “I’ll go back upstairs if that’ll make you happy.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Canton,” Gary replied with a short nod.

  I started to turn, but noticed Gary’s phone light up. I snatched up my coffee cup, curiosity getting the best of me, and s
nuck a peek at the phone. A text message from a privately marked number flashed across the screen along with the message that read: It’s taken care of.

  Doing the best to hide my surprise, I slid the mug off the bar and said my goodbye to Gary with a fake smile.

  As soon as the apartment door closed, I rushed up the stairs, stumbling on the last step, dropped the coffee, and the mug shattered as it landed on the hardwood floor.

  Paige jumped up from the couch and tripped over a groaning Sam. After she gained her footing, she narrowed her eyes at me and the busted mug. “Can’t you people stop waking me up with loud noises and scaring the shit out of me?”

  “It’s Gary,” I blurted out, out of breath from adrenaline and jogging up the stairs.

  Sam yawned, and mumbled, “What about Gary?”

  “He has to be the informant,” I insisted, throwing my hands in the air.

  “What are you talking about? Gary the security guard? Ashton’s Gary?” Sam asked, shaking his head in denial. I nodded and he scoffed. “No way. They’ve known each other for years. It can’t be him.”

  “I’m almost positive. I went downstairs to drink my coffee in peace when Gary came in and talked to me for a bit. He was all elusive, watching the doors like an intruder was going to barge in at any minute,” I said, frustrated that he hadn’t believed me.

  Sam chuckled. “Lily, that’s what a guard does. He’s gotta have eyes everywhere.”

  Paige rolled her eyes, and mocked, “Oh, no. This security guy was watching the entrances like he was...doing his job.”

  “Seriously!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at the two of them. “He got a text message before I left and it said ‘It’s taken care of’. What’s taken care of? It was a blocked number, and showed private.”

  Paige held her finger against her lips, hushing me. “If what you’re saying means Gary’s involved, we need to keep it down. Vampires can hear a pin drop from two rooms over. He’s probably listening to us right now.”

  Sam nodded as he cleaned up the broken mug and spilled coffee. “I don’t believe it, but we can’t rule anyone out at this point.”

  “Where’s Ashton?” I asked, heading to the guest room.

  “Lily...wait,” Sam called out, but I opened the guest room door and wished I listened to Sam.

  Blake stood beside the bed, hair wet from a fresh shower, surprised at my abrupt entrance. And he was naked. I gulped at seeing Blake in nothing but his magnificent birthday suit. Besides his beautiful body, the backs of his thighs had crisscrossed scars weaving over the bare flesh. Because he wore pants, or shorts when we swam, I never knew they were there. Curiosity kicked into high gear, wondering what they were from and how he got the marks.

  Blake, face flamed with embarrassment, pulled up a pair of basketball shorts, and cleared his throat. “I guess I should’ve locked the door.”

  “Blake, how did you get those scars?” I asked, unashamed and too interested not to inquire about them.

  “Um, it was a motorcycle accident,” he answered, not meeting my eyes.

  Pursing my lips, I questioned, “Just on the back of your legs? Wouldn’t you have road rash in more places than just there?”

  “I, uh, wrecked into a field and the vegetation caught my legs,” he answered, and pulled on a T-shirt.

  I opened my mouth to argue his statement and lies, but Sam’s hand on my arm stopped me. He shook his head, eyes wide. Frowning, I realized that Sam had been inside Blake’s head.

  My mouth curved into an O, and I said, “Okay. Blake, we’ll be outside when you’re ready for breakfast. Pancakes okay?”

  He smiled, and I spotted the relief in his voice when he said, “Sure. Be in there in a minute.”

  I followed Sam and as soon as we entered the galley style kitchen, I pinned him against the counter with my finger. Whispering, I demanded, “Tell me what those scars are about.”

  “Sorry,” Sam replied with a sad smile, “I can’t. Remember when I said some memories can’t be unseen?” I nodded and he continued, “Those are one of those said memories.”

  I bit my lip and tilted my head, debating on lecturing Sam for not spilling what he knew. But, the more I thought about it, I understood that if Blake wanted me to know, he’d tell me. Whatever the scars were from, pain was certainly involved.

  Paige, making her way into the kitchen, eyed Sam and I with a frown. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Lily was just being grouchy because she spilt her coffee,” Sam lied with a shrug. “We’re going to make some pancakes. You hungry?”

  “Duh. I could eat an entire cow right now. Let’s see if Ashton has any blueberries or chocolate chips,” Paige said, opening cabinets to find the ingredients.

  “Oh! Let’s make mimosas too!” Sam cried, grabbing a box of orange juice and a bottle of champagne.

  After Paige and I assured that the box indeed held orange juice and not blood, we began preparing breakfast and dancing along to the music from Sam’s phone. Blake eventually strolled close to the kitchen, laughing at us as he leaned up against the counter.

  Ashton was a no show, and it worried me. It was so unlike him to be gone all night and during the morning hours. Especially with me back in town. Oddly enough, I missed waking up in his arms. Which was no surprise really, especially with the memories of staying here in the past.

  While we ate, we filled Blake in on my suspicions about Gary and his mysterious text message. Blake, like Sam, denied that Gary could be involved. I tried to prove my point, and at least had Paige convinced. Nobody else was informed of our locations from Ashton, other than Gary. And if he’d been playing us all, he knew my location long before Ashton and Blake had.

  Later that day, Paige, Sam, and I snuck out and had lunch at the diner down the street. Enjoying every minute of our freedom, we were unsure how long it was going to last. The two different assassins were eerily quiet, which was an uncomfortable thought.

  We slipped back into Revive, and found Ashton waiting for us as soon as the back entrance to the VIP was opened. His arms were crossed, and he shook his head in disappointment.

  “You do realize that by sneaking out, we wouldn’t know if something would’ve happened while you’re gone, right?” Ashton questioned, barring our entrance.

  “We just wanted to have lunch, Ashton,” Sam grumbled, sulking a bit for being caught.

  “You should’ve just asked. And you,” Ashton said and pointed at me, “should know better. Are you just asking to be killed?”

  “Really? Sure,” I quipped sarcastically, “I’m begging somebody to put me out of my misery.”

  “It’s not a joke,” Ashton reprimanded.

  “I know. And you, “I said and pointed back at him, “need to relax and quit being Mr. Serious all the time. When was the last time you relaxed and had a good time?”

  He frowned, wrinkling his brows as if the thought never occurred to him. His face changed in a split second and he smirked down at me. “Is that what you want? To have a good time and be able to relax?”

  Uncertain of his motives, I observed him suspiciously before answering, “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Fine, meet me in an hour,” Ashton instructed. “Be showered and ready to go. You don’t have to dress fancy if you don’t want. But I’ll be right here waiting on you.”

  And with that, he turned on the ball of his feet and left the room, the three of us watching him go.

  Sam’s snicker caught me off guard, and I glared at him. “What did he mean?”

  Waggling his eyebrows, Sam said, “Nothing major, I’m sure.”

  Shaking her head, Paige pushed past the two of us, and called over her shoulder, “You two are a bunch of trouble makers. I’ll probably get my ass chewed for leaving...again.”

  I laughed at the audacity of her statement, and I hollered back, “Takes one to know one!”

  Sam wrapped his arm around my elbow and led me in the direction of the apartment entrance. “You girl, have to get show
ered. If you haven’t shaved, I suggest you do so.”

  I peered at Sam and he just winked. With a sigh, I asked, “You’re not even going to tell me what’s going to happen, are you?”

  “Nope,” he said, “you’re going to figure that out all on your own.”

  As we made our way up the stairs, I fretted over the plans Ashton had for us. He instructed me to wear whatever I desired, but I wasn’t going to show up in rags. Besides, I’d be stopped by Sam and forced to change before I even made it out the door.

  Blocking all thoughts, Ashton’s mind was closed for business. He assured I’d have no inkling to the upcoming events. My nerves flared to life, sputtering my supernatural abilities along my skin. Alone with Ashton. On a date. This was going to be interesting.

  *****

  An hour later, I paced back and forth in the VIP area of Revive. Dressed in skinny jeans tucked into tall boots and a black, silky camisole, I kept checking the time on my cell phone. Ashton was two minutes late.

  To my surprise, Jeremy Morrow meandered into the VIP area and eyed me up and down. “Going somewhere?”

  “Actually, yes. I’m going out with Ashton for a bit,” I admitted, not that it was any of his concern.

  “Big plans?” he asked, spanning his arms across his chest.

  “Not really. Just going...” I started, but Ashton’s voice cut me off.

  “What a surprise. Jeremy Morrow,” Ashton sneered. “You always seem to show up uninvited. After the stunt you pulled with Liliana, you better have a good reason to be here.”

  “Actually,” Jeremy corrected him, “Lily chose to work with me. It was her decision to leave. And she’s an employee. A paid employee I might add. One who was supposed to give up her entire past to work with me. So I have every right to check in on her.”

  Ashton’s eyes met mine, and he asked, “You agreed to give everything up to work for him?”

  I shrugged, rolling my eyes. “If I remember correctly, I thought my best friend was dead. Forgive me for reacting the way I did.”

  “Yes,” Jeremy scorned, “let’s get into this deception that caused Lily to run.”