It makes sense that Veritas would know our names, but it still freaks me out.
“I’ll trick the watchman,” I say, my fingertips digging into Wilder’s arm to hold him back. It’s my only chance to save the watchman. All of us are so angry right now, so scared about what happened to Wilder and Van. “You stay and ask your questions. Then be ready to run.”
And if there’s time, I’ll ask my questions.
Reid flashes me a worried look, but I give him a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes.
I’ll give up what I want most to protect these men…even from themselves.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aiden
I never imagined there would be a way to know the truth about that night, but now I’m here, and the opportunity lies before me like a forbidden apple. If I get the answers, I don’t know if they’ll save me or destroy me, and the fear is so deep inside of me that it makes it hard to breathe.
“We’ll follow Izzy and make sure she’s okay,” Reid says, and I wonder if he knows what I’m about to ask.
Van lingers behind me. “I’ll stay here, just in case.”
The group parts ways, and I’m left alone in the dark hall with Van behind me. A chill moves over my flesh, raising goosebumps, and the goddess stares back at me, a challenge in her eyes. I have the sudden urge to turn and walk away, but I don’t move. I’m not sure I can.
“Did you want to ask something?” Van asks, in that easy I don’t give a shit tone he’s perfected over the course of his life, then moves to my side.
“I want to ask about my sister.”
Van stiffens beside me. “About what, man? She died. What more is there to ask?”
Suddenly, I want to say the words to him that I’ve never spoken out loud before, so I do, before I have enough time to second-guess my choice. “I want to know how I killed her. Why I killed her.”
Van moves closer, and all the humor is gone from his face. “You didn’t kill her. There was a car accident--”
“I was driving the car.”
I see it. The recognition. His mind going through all the moments since then that I was a shell of who I was. He never knew I was driving that night. Only Reid and my parents knew.
Those old memories come back to me, like feeling shards of glass run through my blood. From the night, as a stupid fifteen year old, that I got a call from my older sister. She’d gotten drunk at a party, and her drunk friends had gotten into a car and driven home.
Even wasted, she knew better. She’d always been a good girl. This was her one dumb thing, and she didn’t want to be killed in a car with a bunch of idiots.
Even though I only had my learner’s permit, I’d stolen my parent’s keys and gone to get her. I’d thought I was keeping her safe. She’d arrive alive, and my parents wouldn’t have to know about their perfect daughter’s one mistake.
But I’d made the wrong decision.
Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. Looking at the goddess, I say, “Show me what happened that night. I need to know how I killed her.”
Because I still didn’t understand.
I was a good driver, a safe driver. I used my damn blinker. I went the speed limit. But I don’t remember anything before the accident. They said I was driving at a high speed, and that I slammed into the tree on her side of the car, killing her in an instant.
But I had no idea how it happened. I didn’t remember any of it, and I couldn’t think of a reason that I would drive recklessly with one of the people I loved most in the world.
The goddess smiles, and her smile is unkind. Suddenly, she fades away and a scene begins to play. My sister is drunk in the car, but not the happy kind of drunk. She looks miserable, like she’s trying her best not to hurl all over our parent’s car. In that moment, she reminds me so much of Reid. She has his hair, but my eyes, and my heart aches just looking at her. It’s like she’s a piece of myself I’ll never get back.
“Tonight I was dumb,” she tells me, her words slightly slurred.
I smile at her. “We’re all dumb sometimes.”
“But you more than most,” she jokes, resting her head on my shoulder.
I remember that moment. I’ve replayed it in my mind over and over again since that night. The weight of her head on my shoulder. The smell of her fruity shampoo.
“Everyone was nice to you, right?” I ask, holding my breath as I wait for her answer.
She curls up closer to me. “No one took advantage of me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Relief moved through me. “Next time you want to drink, I’ll go with you. I’ll stay sober and keep an eye on you, so you can have fun, and then I’ll drive you home.”
She laughed. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time. Being drunk is awful.”
Always such a good girl.
But I don’t feel happy, because this is the last moment I remember. Everything after it was blank. This is where my memories are simply…gone.
Leaning forward, I stare at the painting, each breath painful as it moves through my lungs. What happened? Show me. I need to know!
I slowed the car to a stop at the familiar place in town, my gaze briefly flickering to four unfamiliar men who stand against the stop sign, then away. They grin when they catch my stare, and I swear one flashes sharpened teeth.
And then we keep going.
Something happens. My expression fades to a creepy blank one. My eyes go distant, and a flash of red dances around the pupils of my eyes. The way I hold the steering wheel changes, and I tighten my hands.
The car begins to accelerate, faster and faster.
My sister lifts her head from my shoulder. “Aiden, what are you doing?”
Our speed keeps increasing. The winding road is just a flash of colors on both sides of us. But my expression remains blank, and my foot pushes the pedal down to the floor.
“Aiden, stop it! You’re scaring me!” Her voice carries a note I’d never heard in my life.
I want to scream for myself to listen. To stop. To save her before we lose her forever. My hands clench into fists, and I’m holding them out in front of myself as if I can turn back time and change everything.
But I can’t. I just keep watching while tears run down her cheeks and she begs me over and over to stop. And then I jerk the wheel.
Time seems to slow as we are thrown about the interior of the car. Items from the floor lift around us as we come down the hill, in the air, and then we strike the tree.
My sister’s face is a mask of terror, and then the trunk of the tree crunches in on her side of the car. She’s gone. In an instant. At least they were right about her not suffering. And I’m there, unmoving, the air bags burning marks into my arms and face, a bloody gash in my forehead. And I know my arm broke as it hit the window, but I still don’t react.
Time rolls on. Our headlights stare at nothing. The car is silent. The night is silent.
And then, another car’s lights illuminate the miserable scene. I see the four men from the corner step out of their car and move to stare inside ours.
One of them frowns. “You were supposed to have a little fun, not kill them.”
A face I sense is familiar to me shrugs. “They’re only human.”
All the men laugh, except for one. The one who doesn't leans into my window. There's regret on his face as he looks at me “This one is still alive.”
“Should we drink his blood?” one of them asks. “Or hers? I hate to waste it. She’s still nice and warm.”
He shakes his head. “Let’s just get out of here, and make sure you wipe his memory.”
The scene fades away, and I realize I’m shaking. I wipe at my face, and I’m surprised when I find it wet, even though my brain can’t seem to understand why.
“Fucking hell, Aiden,” Van murmers. His hand clutches my shoulder and squeezes. “Vampires. They were the reason for the car accident.”
“I shouldn’t have p
icked her up that night.” My voice shakes, and my teeth chatter together.
Van turns me away from the painting. “Until this moment, I was pissed about all this god stuff. But now? I’m not. You know why? Because you and I are going to use our godly powers and kill those bastard vampires. Do you understand me? Because none of that was your fault.”
My teeth chatter together harder. “I should’ve told my parents to get her.”
“And maybe all of them would be dead,” Van says, emphasizing each word. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It-- was,” I say, feeling panic clawing at my mind.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I was-- supposed to protect her.”
Van shakes me harder. “It wasn’t your fault, and we’re going to kill them for what they did.”
I feel myself slipping into darkness.
He shakes me again, drawing me back, so that his face is all I can see. “We’re going to get revenge for your sister. We can’t turn back time, but we can do that. And you are going to tell yourself every fucking second of the day that it wasn’t your fault until you know it as deeply as I do.” He shakes me again. “Look at me! I’m not soft like Reid and Wilder, I wouldn’t tell something to coddle your damn feelings or ease your guilt. So when I say you did nothing wrong, you sure as hell better listen.”
And for the first time, I hear him. I hear someone. Because no matter how many times my parents said it, I didn’t believe them. They’d come to the scene. They’d spoken to the police officers. And I knew that they blamed me for her death. Who wouldn’t? An inexperienced teen driver. A high speed.
Logic said I’d murdered my sister.
My counselor said it wasn’t my fault, but she said it the way a counselor is required to. Like, here, let’s give the fuck-up some reason not kill himself.
But with Van? He’s telling the truth.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I say, really slowly.
He gives a sharp nod. “Damn right.”
“And you and I are going to find those vampires and kill them.”
He jerks his grip on my shoulder. “Slowly and painfully.”
I nod and wipe the wetness from my face. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats, releasing me.
“But can we keep this between us?”
He smirks. “You know I can keep a secret. Always have, and now we’ve got prison honor, and all that shit.”
“We’re not in prison,” I say.
He shrugs. “We may as well be.”
Then I look at the painting again. “Is Izzy’s sister alive?”
The goddess flashes that cruel smile of hers. “Yes.”
“Where is she?”
The goddess’s smile fades and confusion fills her expression. “I don’t know…right now.”
“So, I guess you don’t know everything.”
Her eyes narrow. “Ingrate.”
I start to turn and follow the others back toward the guard, but when Van speaks I freeze.
“Hey goddess, not that I care, but do my parents actually love me?”
The goddess’s voice comes cold and cruel. “No, Van. But then, you already knew that. You already knew that you’re a failure and a disappointment to them. If your own parents don’t love you, the people who know you best, then it’s unlikely anyone will.”
I turn slowly around. The look on Van’s face makes my entire chest ache. It’s like she reached into his body and pulled out his heart, leaving him a wounded mess.
My gaze jerks to the goddess. “Maybe this painting isn’t all that great, because I know at least a few people who love him.”
The look of hurt on Van’s face disappears in a flash. But he shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. “I don’t care about my parents anyway. Just don’t want to get written out of the will.”
His words are light, but I know he’s lying.
I follow him out of the art gallery, my legs shaking. I have a feeling my nightmares are going to get worse for awhile. That deep sense of guilt and loss will claw at me until I want to rip my hair out. But unlike last time, now I know the truth.
It wasn’t my fault, but I know who’s fault it is. And with Van at my side, some vampires are going to regret the night they took my sister from me.
I’ll make sure of it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Izzy
When the watchman saw us, his eyes went wide, his mouth falling slack, as if he were stunned. “Well, this is fun,” says an unfamiliar voice in my mind. I push the voice away, even while I can feel my magic stretching out around us in a strangely comfortable way.
“That’s it,” Wilder says in my ear, an edge to his voice. “He saw our faces, Izzy. Either the game’s all over and we’re dead, or…”
“He’s not seeing our faces.” Even I could hear the mischief and the laughter in my voice--was that me or Loki? “He thinks the three of us are raccoons.”
“Raccoons?” Wilder frowns down at me.
Then the watchman flutters his hands at us. “Get...get out of here.”
I turn my delighted smile onto Reid’s shocked face, then to Wilder. They know I’m telling the truth, even if they can’t see my magic. The watchmen wouldn’t be shooing the three of us away if he saw us as humans.
Wilder’s expression is still…not quite him. I can see the man I care for in his eyes, but I can also sense the god there. So I do the only thing I can think of: I lean forward and kiss him.
At first he’s tense, then slowly he relaxes against me, and we’re kissing for real, our lips melding with each other, arousal wrapping us in its hot grasp.
When I force myself to pull back, I’m panting.
“Wow,” Wilder murmurs.
I smile. Now this is my Noah.
“How did you get in here?” the watchman demands, and I turn back to look at him, having forgotten for a moment where we were. He looks around for something to chase us off with, then grabs a disembodied steel leg from the suit of armor that had attacked us earlier. “Go on, get!”
To my surprise, Reid runs past him and jumps agilely onto a table. He throws out his arms, looking to me with a grin on his face. “Does he hear what we say as raccoon chatter?”
“Yes, he does,” I say, absolutely certain, even though this is technically my first time making someone think I’m a raccoon.
“We could lead him out into the main library and then double back to meet the others,” Wilder says.
“Now you’re thinking, my friend,” I say, grabbing his hand to tug him after me before I slipped past the guard.
Wilder chases after me. Reid jumps off the table and runs straight for the watchman, who stumbles back in a panic before Reid veers to one side.
Reid turns around, grinning. “Is he… scared of raccoons?”
He is. I chose this glamour for a reason. Even though, again, I wasn’t sure how I knew. But I wasn’t going to try to explain something to the guys that I myself didn’t understand.
“Unbelievable. Raccoons are really just weird cats who love trash,” Wilder says. Then he admits, “And they’re kind of adorable.”
His admission makes me grin, feeling even more fond of Wilder than usual, and that’s saying something.
“Be nice, you guys,” I chide. “Don’t scare the poor security guard too much.”
The three of us run around the room, jumping on the furniture and generally causing chaos, leading the security guard toward the door. He bangs the disembodied leg against walls and tables, trying to scare us, even though he’s the one who seems overwhelmed.
“Are raccoons horny?” Reid asks. “I feel like I definitely saw a Youtube series of horny raccoon videos.”
Wilder shoots him a look. “Sometimes you really worry me. Why can’t you watch hentai like a normal guy?”
Reid just rolls his eyes, a faint smirk coming to his lips, before he reels me in against his body and kisses me.
Reid’s fingers thread through my hair, poss
essive and confident, just before his lips sear mine.
I almost gasp in surprise, and then I’m kissing him back. Suddenly Wilder is against my back, his hand sliding around my waist.
Wilder’s lips brush my cheek, and I tilt my head back to kiss him. Our lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss.
Behind us, the security guard wails at the sight of three fornicating raccoons in the middle of the relic warehouse.
Grinning, I break away from the guys and they chase me as I scampered for the door. Whenever one of them catches me, he pulls me closer and covers me in kisses, his hands wandering, and the other would catch us both and continue kissing me.
My cheeks are flushed with exertion and desire by the time the watchman runs ahead of us to open the door for our escape.
“Go on, get!” he shouts again. The three of us streaked out of the warehouse…
...and deep into the stacks of the library.
He heaves a sigh. “Oh my God. I don’t get paid enough to deal with this.”
We lead him on a merry chase through the library. Luckily, there are a couple of mice creeping around the library this late at night, and I stop and put a spell on them. Then, as newly-promoted raccoons, they ran off, and he blundered after them.
I’m laughing as I straighten. “Well, that’s made for an odd night for him.”
“You’re amazing, Iz,” Wilder says, and I turn around to find myself in his arms.
I smile wickedly up at him as he cages me against the bookshelves. “We should stop meeting like this.”
“I like meeting you like this,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that turns into another and another. He breaks away after a minute to add, “I don’t just mean that your magic is amazing. I mean that you’re amazing. Keeping us all out of trouble.”
My lips purse ruefully. “I wanted to come in here more than the rest of you did. I think I’m responsible for a whole lot of the trouble.”
“We’d do anything for you,” he tells me, and I knew that he meant it. “Let’s get back to the painting and ask about your sister, okay?”
I nod, and when he offers me his hand, I take it.
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