It’s still our wedding night. She’s all mine until the sun rises and it’s time to release her back into the world. Until then, let the celebration continue.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Unexpected
“Miles away I can still feel you,
Lay your head down on my embrace.”
—“When You Can’t Sleep at Night” by Of Mice & Men
When I get off the plane in L.A., there are two messages waiting for me from a hospital in Atlanta. I nearly lose my mind until I hear the words “Richard Rowe. . . .” I hail a cab as I ring the number and get transferred to the doctor on duty.
“Kaidan Rowe?” asks the man solemnly.
“Yes. That’s me.” I climb into the cab and show the driver my address on my ID so he knows where to go.
“I’m terribly sorry to have to tell you this, son, but your father had a heart attack at home early this morning or possibly during the night. One of his employees found him and called nine-one-one, but it was too late at that point. I’m very sorry. Your father is gone.”
What? Was this planned? I am gripping the phone and staring blankly at the city as it passes by the windows.
“Um . . .” I need to say something. “But, he was so . . . healthy.”
Lame. My shock is real, but it’s hard to fake grief.
“Yes, he did appear to be quite healthy. I know this must be difficult. We’re doing a full autopsy to see for certain what the cause of death was.”
I can tell them the cause—a demon leaving a body equals death of said body.
My eyes dart around the skies. I’ve no clue what Father looks like in spirit form. Or where his next duty station will be, if this is his changing of the guard. Nice of him to clue me in that this madness would be happening.
The doctor clears his throat. “Do you have family or anyone you can call for help? There’s quite a bit you’ll need to look into right away, son. It can be overwhelming. I’d recommend contacting his lawyer first, to see if he has a will with instructions, and an insurance policy.”
“Oh, er, yes.” I sniff loudly. “I’ll do that. Thank you. Thank you for your help.”
I hang up and glare out the window. Bloody hell. This is just what I need. I’ve no idea who Father’s lawyer is or where to begin. I let my head fall back onto the seat as we weave in and out of traffic on the highway, slamming on the brakes and racing forward again, then coming to another dead stop. Damned L.A. traffic.
My apartment feels like an abandoned place where I don’t belong. It’s depressing without Anna. For the second day in a row, I open the freezer and stare at the meals she made for me. I don’t want to eat them, because then they’ll be gone and I won’t be able to gaze at them like a bloody sap anymore.
I can imagine her indignant face if she finds out I’m not eating the food she prepared—her little fists on her hips, scolding me with that accent. Most likely naked. I grin at the imaginary Anna. Okay, I’ll eat them. Eventually. One a week, perhaps.
We’ll see.
I pace the kitchen and living room. I have practice tonight with the band, so that’ll be good. I need distractions, to keep me busy. Hopefully Anna Malone won’t be there.
I want the drama over with. I told everyone at work that my father died and I’d have to fly to Georgia for a few days. Thankfully that put them off from questioning my love life for the moment.
The lawyer rang me yesterday, saying he’d been instructed to contact me if anything ever happened to Father. His Atlanta estate is to be sold, Father’s body is to be cremated, and the insurance policy will cash out. As Richard Rowe’s only known family member and heir, I will be receiving the entire “sizable” payout. The lawyer used the word “sizable” several times.
Thing is, I won’t get to keep all that. Father will need the fortune to live his next life in style. I’ll get my cut, and then I’m on my own. Financially. But I’ll always answer to him.
I wish I knew where he was. The only good thing is that it takes quite a while to find a new body. At least that’s what I’ve heard. The Dukes are right picky. Father won’t be able to sniff Anna out if he doesn’t have a nose, so I don’t have to worry about him going after her just yet.
Belial told Anna to go on to college like she’d planned, and pretend to work. He thinks staying on the run will look too suspicious for her. Now that she’s not a virgin, Belial is hoping the Dukes will second-guess themselves.
I worry about Belial’s assumptions, but he’s known the other Dukes a bloody long time. I hope he knows their behaviors well enough not to put Anna’s neck on the line.
I shut the freezer door and order out for Thai. I hate standing around waiting and worrying like a useless git. In two days I’ll fly to Georgia to sign estate paperwork and retrieve Father’s remains, which are going straight down a toilet at the dodgiest petrol station I can find. But at least I’ll be in the east, on the go.
I slump onto my leather couch and grab a pad of paper and a pen, ready to scratch out some lyrics.
And then my mobile dings with a text.
It’s a picture from Anna. That’s strange. I open it and stare.
And stare some more.
Fucking hell, little Ann.
I ogle a picture of her tangled in a sheet, a knee up; her hip, thigh, and arse showing beautifully against a scrap of black fabric that hardly qualifies as knickers.
A low, long groan erupts from my throat.
She’s too sexy. It hurts to look at it, but I can’t stop. She’s too bloody far away. Why, why, why? My hands shake as I type.
OH GOD.
I stare. I type. What r u doing to me??
I am gobsmacked. I can’t believe u took a pic.
I stare. I cram my hand into my hair and pull. CANNOT STOP STARING.
Too much sexy. I can’t even . . . Just wait little vixen.
I fall over on the couch. F me. Ur so fn hot.
I think I might die here, a lump of lust. Ur in serious trouble when I see u again.
I stare. Serious. Trouble. I curl into a ball of pain and die.
A moment later my mobile chirps in my dead hand. I open it with trepidation. Thankfully it’s only words, and not more skin I’m not able to touch.
Baby steps for your nerdy girl, she writes.
The girl clearly underestimates the power of her bum and a seductively minimal pose.
Nerdy my arse, I type back. All the cold showers in the world can’t cure what u’ve done to me.
Cruel wife.
Sorry, she says, but I can see her smiling in my mind.
U r not. Leave me alone. I’ll b busy 4 a bit.
Cold showers . . . not again. I want to cry. But then a horrible thought occurs—I hope she doesn’t think I’m truly angry. I quickly type out another message.
PS . . . ilu.
ilu2, she says.
I catch myself smiling and shake my head. Sap.
Then, as much as I hate to do it, I delete each message one by one. When I get to the photo, I take one last long stare, groan deeply, and delete it. Then I trudge heavily to the loo, all by my lonesome, where I might die again. Sexting is dangerous business. I don’t recommend it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
One-Track Mind
“The only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you.”
—“Take Me to Church” by Hozier
I’m at a bar with my bandmates at midnight, nursing a Jack and Coke and dodging pitiful looks from the blokes who think I’m broken up over Father’s death.
Honestly, I’ve been a bit of a disaster ever since the picture text from Anna. It sparked a single-mindedness in me, worse than ever before, and I cannot cope. No amount of Dead Daddy talk will make this raging problem of mine go away.
I keep thinking about our wedding night. We had less than twelve hours together, and yet it’s given me three days’ worth of nonstop memories. It feels as if I’m living in a fog of Anna.
Shite, I think I’m obsessed with my wife. I want to hide her away and keep her all to myself, always. That’s psychotic thinking, even by my low standards.
Oy, that damn picture.
My mobile buzzes in my pocket, sending my heart into race mode, as it always does these days. I dig it out and hold my breath when I see it’s a text from Anna.
Book a flight to Va tmrw.
Right. I don’t think Anna would send me a command like that jokingly. Not these days. Belial must’ve contacted her and said it’s safe. So I grin, because if all is well with her, she will pay dearly, in equal measure, for the suffering she’s inflicted with her sexiness.
With pleasure, I type. U ok? It’s been insane here.
Here too, she says. Lots to tell.
Hm. I wonder what she’s been up to. Hopefully no visits from unwanted Neph. My neck goes hot with irritation thinking about other Neph hunting her down.
She texts me with an address in Riner, Virginia, and I book my flight for the following morning. All joking aside, I hope she’s all right.
And I hope she’s naked.
The fog of Anna finally lifts when I open my eyes to find her on top of me in the passenger seat of a car in Virginia. I feel as if I’ve been hit with a sledgehammer of clarity as I realize what a single-minded dolt I’d been since I showed up this afternoon and found her lying at the poolside in a bikini.
Bum side up.
Yeah. I’m pretty sure I spent a good part of the day making everyone uncomfortable as I stalked Anna, trailing her through Patti’s house. And it’s just my luck the whole lot would be here to witness my temporary madness—Kope, Zania, Jay, the twins, Blake, and worst of all, Patti. They all know we’re married, but that doesn’t make it any less inappropriate.
I’m just glad my head is semi-clear when her father shows that afternoon—in the body of the famous rapper who’d been hospitalized days ago, no less. Big Rotty. As far as Duke blunders go, this one is fucking brilliant. If I weren’t still so afraid of the bastard, I would’ve laughed my arse off. Then, before he leaves, he puts his hands on my shoulders and says, “You take care of my girl, you hear me?”
It’s still strange to hear him say things like this. To have his approval.
And now, here we are at two in the morning, snuggling in the twin bed of Anna’s dorm room, as if this day hasn’t been one strange event after the next. Despite the madness of our lives, anyone who saw us on campus tonight probably thought we were your average college couple.
Funny thing, appearances.
Anna’s news was unsettling. I can’t handle thinking about how my father was here, in this room, just a short while ago. In his new, young, American body, no less. Apparently the “new” Pharzuph is an even grander piece of work than the old one. Anna says he wreaked havoc on campus after cornering her. I can’t believe he found a new host body so quickly, never bothering to inform me, but I can believe he didn’t waste any time sniffing out Anna. I’m immensely relieved we decided to get married when we did.
Anna snaps me from my dark musings as she runs a hand teasingly up and down my forearm, which is flung across her waist. She’s acting as the small spoon, nuzzled tightly in the crook of my torso and thighs. “I want you to dream big with me,” she whispers.
Dreams . . . This is dangerous territory for me. I know I’m lucky to have this moment, and all the moments that led up to this one. To wish for a future? It feels like tempting fate. Nothing except this very second is guaranteed. But for Anna, dreams fuel her, give her hope. So I’ll let her have her fun.
“Tell me your dreams for us, sweet Anna.”
She snuggles closer to my chest. “It starts with us defeating the Dukes. We survive and they’re gone.” I peer around the dark room as she talks. “We can do whatever we want with our lives. I know you love music, so I figure you’ll still work in the industry in some way. When I finish college, I want to be a social worker. I’d be able to gauge the danger kids are in better than a human would, since I can see their emotions. I’ll be able to rescue children from bad situations.”
I immediately think of Marissa’s nieces, and how Anna would have probably tried to save them by now, with no fear for her own well-being.
“I can picture that,” I whisper. I move the hair off Anna’s shoulder and kiss her warm skin. If only more people had Anna’s bravery. If only I had it.
“We could live wherever you wanted,” she goes on. “Patti would probably follow us. After a few years of working, we could think about adopting. I know Patti would just die to babysit while we work.”
Er . . . “Wow. Kids.”
“Yeah,” she says dreamily. “Like five or six.”
“Five or six? You’re a nutter!” I have to laugh at the thought of little Kaidans-in-training. “One boy. Maybe two boys, but even that’s pushing it.”
Shite, she’s got me entertaining this ridiculous notion.
“We have to have girls, too!” Her voice is filled with happiness, but again the thought of Marissa’s nieces flashes through my mind, and all the girls I’ve hurt. All the daughters and sisters and future mums I helped lead down paths they may or may not have been able to find their way back from.
“No girls,” I say.
She turns to look at me, and the small space is suddenly stifling. I sit up.
“What’s wrong?” Anna asks.
I rub my eyes to clear their faces from my vision.
“I can’t even . . . Just the thought of having to care for a girl, watching all the bloody gits sniff around her with their red auras . . . it would kill me and I would deserve it, because I was the worst offender of all.”
“Kai . . .” She touches my arm, and I feel like shit.
“No.” I can’t play along anymore. “I’m sorry, luv, but kids are not my dream. Especially girls.”
“Okay.” Her voice is soft and gentle. “Let’s try to get a little sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, hating that I’ve ruined the moment.
But Anna only lies back down and leads me to do the same. She pulls my arm around her waist, nudging me to spoon her from behind again, and I press my nose into her hair.
Why must I always be such a prick? It was harmless make-believe. I should’ve just let her have her fun and kept my mouth shut.
“Are you angry with me?” I whisper.
She rolls over to face me, touching my cheek. “No, Kai.” She tries to reassure me and kisses me before rolling back over. I pull her closer to my chest and listen to her breathing change as the minutes tick by, until it becomes slow and even.
I can’t afford to dream like Anna does. This moment, and every moment I get to have with her, is my dream come true.
“You’re my dream,” I whisper to my sleeping angel. “My only dream.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Heartwarming
“Exit light.
Enter night.”
—“Enter Sandman” by Metallica
The following morning we return to Patti’s new home and say good-bye to all our Neph mates. It feels strange when they leave, and I realize that yesterday was the first time we’ve all been together and just let ourselves be semi-normal. We sat around a table and had a proper meal, like a real family. Marna and Ginger even had a row, of course, because what would a family holiday be without drama?
It was actually quite nice. Aside from the fighting bit.
I’m not ready to leave, but it’s nearly time. The Dukes will all be returning to their stations now that their Switzerland gathering is over. I’ve got to take care of this estate business in Georgia and head back to L.A. I’m a bit peeved Father still hasn’t bothered to contact me, but I suppose he’s never been the most considerate soul.
Anna shows me to the upstairs shower and I resist the strong urge to pull her in with me. Not sure Patti would appreciate that. So I reluctantly let her go, and climb under the warm stream alone.
I’m halfway through washing my hair when
I get a prickly sensation on my neck. I stand very still as bubbles rinse down my face and neck, and I push my hearing down the hall, down the stairs, down to the family room where I believe Patti, Jay, and Anna are likely sitting.
What I find is commotion—bangs and grunts, a moan. What the hell?
I spin and shut off the water, then rip the curtain so hard the damn rod comes off the wall and I’m tangled in loads of plastic and ruffles. I finally get the curtain off and jump from the tub. Nobody is saying anything, but it sounds like a definite fight down there. I bypass my boxers and grab my shorts, yanking them onto my soaking wet legs and diving for the door, slipping a bit on the tiles.
“Don’t come down!” Anna yells, but to hell with that.
I run down the hall and fly down the steps, bursting into the family room just as Anna is racing out the back door. A quick survey of the room shows Jay standing there shell-shocked, and Patti on the floor, ashen, but alive. I run to the door and see Anna staring around the garden and trees, hilt in her hand. Nothing else is in sight.
Patti moans and I rush to her side where she’s leaning against the couch.
“Oh, my God, dude,” Jay is saying to himself. “Oh, my God . . .”
“Are you all right?” I ask Patti.
She nods weakly. “I—I think so.” I look her over but see no signs of injury.
Anna comes back in and slides to Patti’s side, gathering her into her arms. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Patti says. Her eyes are clearer now. “I felt so sick and scared . . . and . . .” She trembles.
“Who was here?” I ask, trying not to sound as freaked as I am.
“It was so weird,” Jay says. “You should have seen Anna! What is that thing?” He points to the hilt. “It was all lit up. She moved so fast. I’ve never seen anyone move like that!”
She actually used the hilt? I stare at Anna, who’s pale, her lips in a stern line. Stray hairs are plastered to her sweating forehead. I take her face in my hands.
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