by Elicia Hyder
“A sleepover?”
I grinned. “Sort of. When you see him, can you tell Orion I need to talk to him soon?”
“Sure.” He looked up at me and smiled. “You’re gonna be all right, Nyx.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re gonna make a great scion.”
I thought of the Water of Lethe inside my safe. “You know I might not be a scion forever.”
He looked at me like I’d expected Essex to the night before—like I was crazy. “Why?”
“Because I want my old life back.”
His brow pinched. “But you can go back to your old life anytime you want. It’s not like you’re stuck here.”
Guilt rushed through me.
“That is true.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I like you.”
I smiled. “I like you too, Flash.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “And I think you’ll make an excellent guardian.”
His chest puffed out. “Will you come to the ceremony if it happens?”
“There’s a ceremony?”
“Yeah. Becoming a guardian is a big deal.” He spread his arms wide.
I smiled. “Am I allowed to come?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s in Synora, not Imera.”
“Then I wouldn’t miss it.” I offered him a fist bump.
He just stared at it. “What are you doing?”
“It’s kind of like how we give high fives these days.”
“Oh!” He held up a fist. “Like this?”
I bumped my knuckles against his, and he giggled.
“I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah. Good luck with your friend.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next time I awoke, I was alone and covered with two heavy blankets. On the pillow beside me was a sheet of torn notebook paper.
Gone to rid the city of paint thinner. Please don’t leave before I come back. I’ll bring food.
The clock on the nightstand said 2:48 p.m. It had been just after one when I’d hidden the ergane bag and flash drive in my backpack and had slipped back into my body. Essex was already gone, and I’d intended to get up and look for him then. Apparently, my body had other plans. With a satiated moan, I stretched my arms and legs across the bed. I hadn’t slept that long or well in weeks.
Karma whimpered beside the bed. I sat up. “Morning, Picasso.”
The dog’s head fell to the side.
“Wanna go out?”
His tail wagged against the floor—the red-paw-printed floor.
“All right.” I swung my legs off the bed and reached for the discarded white-and-red-streaked T-shirt beside the dog. It still smelled like Essex when I put it on.
There were zero bottoms anywhere. My clothes from the night before had been left in the kitchen. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand; Essex had plugged it in to charge.
“Come on, Karma,” I said, forgetting the German command. He trotted beside me down the hallway, and I let him out the back door.
After going to the bathroom myself and giving my teeth a good scrub, I returned to the kitchen. Essex had made a pot of coffee. Bless him. I poured a cup and sat at the bar, as the stools were the only seats paint free.
There was one voicemail and eleven missed texts on my phone. Most were from the group chat. The newest one was from Bess. Saw your car was gone. Just checking in.
Another was from Paps. DID YOU MEET SHOOTER???
I messaged him back first. Not this time, but I think he’s still in town. I’ll keep an autographing pen and paper handy.
Then I messaged Bess. All good. Be home later. Maybe.
The group chat could wait. I checked my voicemail. “Good morning, Corporal Nyx. This is Warden McCain at the Nevada State Penitentiary. Please give me a call as soon as you’re available. Thank you.” He left a phone number.
I returned the call. “Warden McCain,” he answered.
“Hello, Warden. It’s Saphera Nyx. I’m sorry I missed your call earlier.”
“Oh, hi, Corporal. I was calling to let you know that your father’s autopsy was completed.”
This should be good. “Anything turn up?”
“The medical examiner said Elias’s injuries were consistent with a possible animal attack, but I assure you, no signs of an animal have been present in the prison and no—”
“Warden, you don’t need to worry. My family won’t be suing the prison.”
There was a pause.
“I hope I don’t come across as only caring about a lawsuit, Corporal.”
“Not at all, sir.”
“We all want to know what happened to your father.”
I believed him. I also knew that wasn’t possible. “Try not to lose too much sleep over it. My father was an eccentric man. I’m not surprised that his death would be unusual as well.”
It was clear from the silence that Warden McCain was unsure how to digest that statement. After all, how could any sane person not at least be curious about what had happened in that cell?
“Well, the body has been released to be cremated. It’s scheduled for this afternoon, if you’d like to come pick up his remains.”
A lot had changed in the few days since I’d seen the warden, but I still had no desire to keep Elias—in any form—in my condo. “What will happen to him if I don’t?”
“The ashes will be interred here in the prison cemetery.”
“OK. That’s fine with me.”
“All right.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“OK. Goodbye, Warden.”
“Goodbye, Corporal.”
When I ended the call, I stared at the screen for a moment. Elias really wasn’t coming back. The corners of my eyes burned, but another message from the group chat popped up before any tears fell.
Legeiza: Taking my day off to spend with the fam. You jokers be careful out there.
Jones: I’m in. Hell, can I come in now? LOL
McCollum: I’m out. I plan on getting 100% of my Vitamin Beer intake later today.
Everly: Count me in!
Baker sent a photo of a wild-eyed man with the words, “Work overtime, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”
Blinking hard a few times to dry my eyes, I scrolled back to the beginning of the messages I’d missed in the group chat. Baker, Jones, and Everly were working overtime. Rivera, per usual, was being a dick.
Rivera: You’re all a bunch of bitches. Don’t you know we’re off today?
Baker: OT, baby.
Rivera: Why? You saving up to buy a better personality?
Baker sent a meme. It was a picture of the old lady from Titanic with the caption, “It’s been 84 years since I worked a 40-hour workweek.”
Essex: Don’t you assholes ever sleep?
The time stamp on his message was two hours ago.
Jones: On a cop’s salary? You can afford to sleep when you’re dead.
Everly: Welcome to night shift, Sarge.
Rivera sent a picture of a skeleton behind the wheel of a patrol car, captioned, “A healthy work-life balance.”
McCollum sent a news article that made my heart plummet again.
Suspect in the Death of Ryder Stone in Custody.
The front door opened and Essex walked in. In one hand he had a paint can. In the other was a to-go box from Sugar Pine Bakery, the best bakery on the planet. Originally from South Lake Tahoe, it was one of my favorite transplants to Sapphire Lake.
My eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?”
He pushed the front door closed with his boot. “If you think it’s cinnamon rolls for me and a bran muffin for you, then you’re way more excited than you should be.”
I scowled and put down my phone.
He leaned over for a kiss. An inch away from my mouth, he paused. “I’m lying. It’s two cinnamon rolls with extra cream cheese fros
ting.”
“Sarge, you might never get rid of me.”
He kissed me long and slow. “That is my plan.”
I opened the box and took a deep and delicious inhale as he carried the paint to the counter by the sink. It clanged against the countertop when he set it down.
“What else did you buy?” I asked, pulling out a fat and gooey cinnamon roll. It was covered in fluffy white frosting so thick it could almost be measured with a snowfall gauge.
“The guy at the paint store said if anything will get the paint up, it’s this stuff.”
I stuck my finger into the heap of cream cheese frosting. “Does it contain a magic potion?”
“Hey, bigger miracles have happened to me in the past twenty-four hours.” He opened the back door for Karma.
I offered Essex my finger, still loaded with frosting.
He smiled as he walked back to me. Then he bent and sucked the creamy goodness off my fingertip, scraping his teeth across my skin. “Mmm.” He kissed me again, and his eyes fell to my bare legs. “You know what? Screw the floors. Screw breakfast. Let’s just take that frosting back to bed.”
I laughed and pinched off a hunk of the roll. “We can save some, but I need sustenance. I haven’t worked out that hard all week.”
“Hell, me either.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat beside me.
I stuffed the bite into my mouth, and my eyes nearly rolled back into my head. “God, that’s amazing.”
He watched me lick my lips.
A text message lit up my phone’s screen. I checked the screen to see if it was Ransom. It was Rivera. I ignored it, but Essex pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Does this group chat ever stop?” He showed me his screen. It was another meme from Rivera. This one had a picture of a cop and a dentist side by side with the caption, “They all hate us until they need us.”
I laughed and almost sucked cinnamon roll down my windpipe. “OK. That’s funny.” I wiped my mouth. “And to answer your question, no. It never stops, it’s rarely ever anything important, and it’s often offensive.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“We’re a good team though. If any of us are ever in trouble, everyone comes running.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Did they wake you this morning?” I asked.
“You did.”
“Me?” I asked.
“Yeah. You were ice cold. I got up and loaded you down with blankets,” he said.
“You could have stayed in bed and kept me warm.”
“I definitely considered it.” He picked up his roll. “Did you see the article McCollum sent?”
My shoulder’s fell. “I saw it right as you were coming in, but I didn’t read it. Does it name Teek?”
“No, but charges are coming faster than I thought.” He took a bite, and his eyes closed in ecstasy. “Damn, that’s good.” He got up to get napkins and handed me one. “I made a call today.”
“About what?”
“I got permission for us to visit Teek at Sterling Heights this afternoon if you want to go.”
“Really? I’d love to go. He hates that place, and god knows, nobody but Gramma T will visit him.”
“Figured you’d say that.” He took another bite.
“It pisses me off that he’s there. Even if he isn’t all right upstairs, he doesn’t deserve to be locked up in that awful place.”
He wiped his mouth. “I know. I’ve been racking my brain all morning, trying to think of some way to clear him. The courthouse is on the way to Sterling Heights. We’ll stop by and talk to Birch.”
I couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ve already seen Birch today.”
“You left while I was gone?” he asked without thinking.
“I left while you were still here.”
“That’s right.” Essex looked like he was having a brain cramp. “You said you would.” He put down his roll. “How’d it go?”
I told him everything Flash and I had overheard.
Essex shook his head. “Like you said last night, stupid fucking politics.”
“That’s not all.”
His brow rose in question.
I got up and walked to my backpack on the other side of the island. Then I returned with the ergane bag and flash drive. I took it out and placed it in front of him. “Got a computer handy?”
“What’s this?” he asked.
“I didn’t have any luck finding the surveillance tapes from the Drexler, but I was able to download the video feed from Birch’s office for the past two days.”
“Damn,” he said, impressed.
“If they were blabbering that much about it today, I guarantee there’s been specific talk about Teek and what happened to those tapes.”
“Only one problem,” he said.
I knew it before he could say it. “I’ll make some enemies if anyone knows I have it.”
“Big enemies. You throw the mayor and the DA under the bus, and you won’t have to worry about Magnus firing you.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?” He took another bite of cinnamon roll.
“Find out what’s on the video and then decide. I can’t let them keep an innocent man in jail for the sake of my job.”
“I agree, but”—Essex licked some icing off his thumb—“as the arresting officer, you still should talk to Birch before you call him out. He should hear your opinion of Teek, and he might listen to it.”
“I don’t think Magnus wants me to talk to Birch.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, but he brought up the missing video feed from my car. He made it a point to tell me he had defended me, kinda like he was holding it over my head.”
“You really don’t trust him, do you?”
“Without all this shit, I don’t know the guy enough to trust him. And if he is Icelus, then he’s even worse a villain than I ever accused my father of being.”
“That’s a big statement. You think he could be that bad?”
“I hope I’m wrong, but something is off with that guy.”
“He would have a cool supervillain name if it was him. Magnus,” he said dramatically.
With a laugh, I pushed the box and what was left of my pastry toward him. “I’m hoping Orion can check him out.”
“What do you know about this Orion guy?”
“Not much, but he’s been helping me, so I think he’s on the right side of all this.”
“Could he be building your trust to burn you later?”
“Possibly, but if he wanted to kill me, he’s had a few chances to.”
Essex scowled. “Like with the car.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t detached when that happened, so it wouldn’t have done him any good. Only the blood of my spirit is valuable.”
“Valuable how?”
“Orion says if a fallen god drinks my blood, they’ll be immortal again.”
“Where did he learn that?”
“Imera, I guess.”
“Huh?”
“Imera. It’s where all detached human souls go to live.”
His head pulled way back. “There are more of them?”
“Apparently, a lot more.”
“What’s it like?”
I shrugged. “No idea. I’m not allowed to go there.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “So some strange ghost-man has appeared in your life out of the blue, from a place you’re not allowed to visit, and you’re convinced he’s not a suspect?”
“I’m not saying he isn’t a suspect, but I don’t think it’s him. He gave me the blade to protect myself.”
“The blade on my nightstand?”
“Yeah. It’s a poisoned magical dagger.”
“You mean, the dagger you held at my throat last night?”
I bit down on the insides of my lips.
“Wow.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s a good thing you’re hot, Nyx.”
&n
bsp; I turned toward him on my stool, letting my knees drift apart. With a smile, I leaned toward his ear and lowered my voice. “You didn’t seem to mind so much last night.”
His eyes fell to my bare thighs, or maybe to his shirttail barely covering the space between them. After a second, he jerked his head up and laughed. “Woman, do you want me to help figure this out or what?”
“Feeling flustered, Essex?”
He ignored my teasing. “We’ve learned talk like that is not the way to make my brain function at its best.” He held up what was left of my cinnamon roll. “Pastries are the key.” He took another big bite.
“Or tacos.”
“Or tacos,” he said around the food in his mouth.
I closed my legs and faced forward again. “Fine. Who else could it be?”
“What about your new roommate? Odd timing for her to show up with all this going on.”
“Bess? That was a random traffic stop.”
“Or so she would have you believe.”
I laughed. “She’s not organized enough to be diabolical.”
He pointed at me. “What about that guy, Delaney, from the Irish bar? You haven’t known him very long.”
I folded my arms over my chest and laughed. “You are totally jealous of Delaney.”
“Duh.” He closed the bakery box. “Wouldn’t you be jealous if some attractive woman was sniffing around the goods?” He gestured to himself.
I leaned toward him. “Do you not remember what’s-her-face from Sin City Tacos?” I squished my boobs together.
“Oh, Carly,” he said with a devious smile.
“Yeah. Maybe the demon is her.”
He shook his head. “I think it’s Delaney.”
“Could be, I guess. He definitely has the body of a supervillain.”
“Hey!” Essex playfully shoved me sideways.
I caught myself on the bar, laughing. “This is going to be fun.”
“Don’t make me go kick his ass, because I will.”
“I’d love to watch that fight.” I stood and put my arms around his neck from behind. “If you don’t mind, I need a shower.”
“Of course not. Use my bathroom, since it’s the only one paint free.”
“What’s your plan?”
He nodded toward the can of paint thinner. “Gonna see if this shit works.”
“Want some help?”