"Thanks, Trey," I answered with an appreciative smile. I tapped my toe to Billie Holiday's "God Bless the Child" as it poured out of a boom box in the corner. Besides our table, there were two others in the small room, both crammed with paper coffee cups and clashing elbows of those busily chatting.
"It's no prob," Trey said as I thanked Blue's and my lucky stars that Trey had a soft spot for animals. Otherwise, Blue could have easily been overlooked in the shuffle of moving folks from Splendor to this camp.
"How is Blue doing?" I asked Trey, deciding to pay a visit to my dog as soon as we finished our coffee. I didn't exactly feel like the ideal dog owner of late. 'Course, none of that was really my fault, considering recent events and circumstances; but still, I needed to reconnect with the yellow lab. The feeling I got from this place was that I'd have plenty of time for reconnecting. In fact, the idea of just sitting around here and waiting for further news or instructions wasn't exactly something I was comfortable with. I wondered how long I'd last before the inactivity caused me to crack. On the flip side, though, a little downtime was probably exactly what the doctor would have ordered where I was concerned.
"He's doin' real good. Right now he's learnin' how to be more sociable," Trey said.
"What?" I asked with a laugh. Sam rolled her eyes and swallowed a sarcastic comment with a mouthful of iced mocha.
Trey offered Sam a discouraging frown before returning his attention to me. "Elsie noticed he wasn't super friendly with strangers, so she got this wild idea to round up everyone's dogs and start a pet sociability class," he finished. Elsie was formerly the receptionist at the ANC in Splendor. Apparently, now she could add "dog whisperer" to her list of credentials.
"Good ol' Blue," Quill said as he shook his head and smiled knowingly at me. "I'd love to see him." Quill had given Blue to me as a pseudo going away gift when I'd first learned that Quill was working for the bad guys. At the time I'd had no clue that the chief bad guy he was working for was my father, but due to that fact, Quill had deserted his post in the ANC and we'd parted ways.
I just nodded, still uncomfortable with the events of the past and, more pointedly, any reminders about my father. Instead, I directed my attention to other topics, such as what the plan was moving forward. It wasn't like I knew much of anything, so I hoped someone could bring me up to speed.
"So, what's the deal?" I started. "Everyone here is just hanging out?"
"Yep, just waiting and then waiting some more, until we're told what to do next," Sam answered with a bored sigh. "We're basically in the same thing as witness protection. Everyone who worked for the ANC is now considered a target, I guess."
"Some of us have already been drafted to fight for The Resistance," Dia added, raising her eyebrow skeptically as she swallowed a mouthful of coffee.
"Drafted?" I repeated, glancing at each of them as I tried to make sense of the word.
Trey nodded. "Yep, I think it's just a matter of time for all of us. Once The Resistance decides it needs us, we get drafted into the cause and have to go through some trainin'. I think it's all leadin’ up to the war that's gonna break out with your dad, Dulce."
"War?" Quill asked, sounding surprised. But, my concern was more with the idea that Melchior was my so-called "dad."
"Don't call him my dad," I answered quickly, suddenly irritated that Trey even knew Melchior and I were related. It's not like I ever told him, or anyone else seated at the table either, for that matter. As I glanced around me, and noted everyone's expressions, none of them appeared to be in the least bit surprised. So apparently, Sam, Trey, and Dia were very much aware of my association with my father. I had to wonder what else they knew. "I'm unfortunately related to Melchior O'Neil in name only; but that's it, as far as I'm concerned." Then I speared each of them with my gaze. "And please tell me how and what do all of you know about that anyway?"
Dia laughed, like my question was a dumb one. "Come on, girl, how could we not know?"
"Rumors spread around here fast, Dulce," Sam added. "It's not like we have anything else to talk about all day. Just waiting for word on what's going to happen next."
"When were you all brought here?" Quill interrupted, apparently attempting to steer the conversation into safer waters. It was pretty obvious that if I were anything, it was a private person. I hated having my dirty laundry exposed for everyone to see.
Sam shrugged and glanced at Dia curiously before turning to face us again. "About four days ago maybe."
Hmm, right before the Draoidheil import had made its way from the Netherworld to Earth. Christina had had this whole thing finely orchestrated, her timing impeccable.
"And just for the record, Dulce," Sam started, "none of us blames you for the decisions you made."
Trey shook his head. "We all think you were pretty heroic, actually." He took a deep breath. "And Knight will ..."
"I don't want to talk about him," I said firmly, my jaw suddenly tight. "That is one subject that needs to be left alone." Then I glared at everyone in turn, making sure I was absolutely, one hundred percent understood.
They all simply nodded, but I didn't miss Quill's sigh. It told me he was disappointed that I was still upset about the Loki. Well, Quill didn't even begin to know the ins and outs of Knight's and my relationship.
Dulcie, you aren't going there! I reminded myself, choosing to change the subject, and instead, returning to how my life resembled an open book lately. "So all of you know everything about me working for my father?" Then I speared Sam with a glare. "I thought some people were going to keep their mouths shut." Although I had told Sam some of what was going on, I hadn't told her the whole story. I'm not sure how everyone got to know the details, but I figured it was best to start with Sam.
"Hey, don't blame me!" she said, holding up her hands in mock offense.
"I had a vision of most everything that happened," Trey answered sheepishly, glancing up at me through half-lidded eyes, his cheeks flushed.
"Then we just pieced the rest of it together," Dia answered, with no trace of an apology in her tone at all.
"So much for keeping secrets," I grumbled, not at all happy that everyone was in the know where I was concerned. I'd get over it soon enough, but it still didn't make the news any easier to swallow.
"Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead," Dia answered, beaming at me as if she were proud of her witty bon mot.
"Where do you come up with this stuff?" I mumbled, shaking my head as I drowned my irritation with a mouthful of hot coffee.
"Not me, girlfriend," Dia answered. "I got good ol' Benny Franklin to thank for that one." When she grinned broadly, I couldn't help but laugh. Her smile quickly faded into an earnest expression and I knew a “Dia moment of seriousness” was about to unveil itself. She had this uncanny ability to make you drop your defenses with one of her little jokes and then, bam! She'd nail you right over the head with some profound thought."There's nothing for you to be embarrassed about, Dulce," she said quietly. "We all love you and we only want the best for you, so don't you worry that pretty little head of yours."
"None of us judges you, Dulcie," Sam said before turning to face Quill. "And that includes you too, Quill. We're all friends here."
Quill nodded with a broad smile. "I appreciate that, Sam."
"So going back to your comment about a war with my father, Trey," I started, reminding myself I still had lots to learn and time was ticking away. "What were you talking about?"
Trey shrugged and I noticed he had the remnants of his last sip of vanilla shake lining his upper lip. "There's lots of talk about a war with your da ... father," he corrected himself.
"Word is that Christina is going to demand Melchior step down from his office as Head of the Netherworld," Sam started. "She and Knight want to reinstate a democracy in the Netherworld once again."
"But it's not like my father is just going to say 'okay' and lay down his crown," I said, shaking my head at how absurd the idea sounded.
"Well, when he doesn't," Sam continued, "and obviously we’re all betting on that fact, then I guess we declare war on the Netherworld."
"You guess?"
Sam shrugged. "It's not like any of this has been ratified. It's all conjecture, but based on the word on the street, that's what's going to happen."
I shook my head, not even imagining how emancipating ourselves from the Netherworld was possible. "We are part of the Netherworld."
Dia glanced at me, cocking a brow. "But do we want to be? That's the question."
Sam shrugged. "The United States was once a part of England, right?"
"Thanks for that, Sam," I grumbled, to which she just offered me a cheery smile.
"So The Resistance is going to emancipate itself from The Netherworld?" Quill asked, surprise and worry evident in his tone.
"Apparently that's the plan," Sam said, her eyebrows raised in an expression that didn't say whether she supported the idea or not. "At least, that's what I've heard through the grapevine."
"So we're going to exist as an independent nation then?" I asked, still in doubt. "Because it's pretty obvious Melchior won’t step down just because Christina asks him to."
"Well, she'll be askin', but at the same time, she'll have the backing of a few hundred Netherworld creatures in Splendor as well as the surrounding cities," Dia responded.
"And what in the hell does the human government think of this?" I asked, even more shocked than before. Even though we were creatures of the Netherworld, we lived on Earth with humans and they were well aware of just who and what we were. Granted, humans tended to keep to themselves and, likewise, we preferred to keep to ourselves. Splendor, Estuary, Haven, and Moon were all cities with largely Netherworld creature populations—about twenty creatures to every one human.
"The human government doesn't know," Dia answered quickly. "The Resistance decided it was better to buffer the human populations of the affected cities in a magical cloud of ignorance."
"So what does that mean?" I continued.
Dia shrugged. "As far as humans go, life's just the same as it always was. They don't see The Resistance soldiers patrolling the streets, and they don't notice that the Netherworld creature-run stores are closed. They're also unaware if the creatures they considered acquaintances or friends are missing. It's just a regular day as far as humans are concerned."
I nodded, thinking it was a good move on Christina's part because the last thing we needed was for the human government to get involved with our affairs. Sometimes it was good to live in a bubble. I took a sip of my coffee as I tried to digest the information.
"At any rate, it's not for us to worry about," Sam said quietly. "We're given updates every day or so; and once The Resistance is ready for us, we'll be here."
"Ready for you?" I asked.
"To fight," Sam clarified. "That's what it's going to come down to, I'm sure."
"To fight?" I repeated, my jaw dropping as I contemplated it. "Sam, you can't fight." Sam was a witch, someone who had always helped the ANC by casting spells or creating concoctions to help us with our cases. But when it came to hand-to-hand combat, she was clueless. She'd never been trained the way I had been—as a Regulator.
"Well, I guess that's where the training comes in," she said with a frown and fear in her eyes.
I shook my head. "This is ridiculous and what's more, training takes time and it sounds like war might be right around the corner!"
"Well, it's not like I know any of this for sure, anyway," Sam responded, obviously trying to settle me back down again. "It's just what people are saying."
Well, I wasn't okay with relying on gossip and hearsay. I'd already made up my mind to pay a visit to Knight or Christina—whomever I could find first—to demand what was going on. Well, that was, after I went to see my dog.
"Hey, don't you think we're kinda like The Breakfast Club," Trey piped up. I took a deep breath and shook my head, not even beginning to make the connection. "Come on," he insisted. "Dulce can be that prissy one with the sushi. Quill, you can be that jock dude who dances on the railing; and Sam, you can be that freaky chick who gets the makeover." He glanced over at Dia as if sizing her up to figure out what part she could play.
"Uh uh," she said, shaking her head in a most diva-like way. "Count me out."
Trey shrugged before facing the rest of us again. "An' I'll be that dude who wears the Michael Jackson glove—you know, the rebel."
"Please, Trey," Sam piped up. "You'd be the nerd."
I laughed, the sudden feeling of lightness drifting through me as everyone around me echoed the sentiment, their faces lighting up with broad smiles. In those few, precious seconds, it seemed that none of us carried the weight of the world on our shoulders—that we were boundless and carefree. And as we shared that moment of laughter, a moment free from the angst of worrying about our present, not to mention our future, it was beautiful. I glanced around my circle of friends, suddenly feeling as if everything was right with the world.
###
"So what the hell is going on?" I demanded as I threw my hands on my hips and glared up at the ridiculously tall Loki. He was backlit by the bright yellow of the full moon, and his inky black hair almost appeared blue in the light.
Unfortunately, I'd run into Knight before Christina so, true to my word, I blasted him about what we should all be expecting moving forward. After spending the remainder of the day with Blue, who was so happy to see me he wet himself, I stayed busy in my new room. It was a twelve-by-twelve box at the top floor of the registration building. Luckily, my room was next to Sam's and just down the hall from Dia's. Trey’s and Quill's rooms were on the next floor down, one of the two floors designated for the men. But going back to my room, it was painted a bland beige, and came complete with a cot in one corner that had a pillow and a brown-and-green-plaid comforter. On the opposite side of the room was a toilet; and just beside that, a sink. Next to the bed, I found a trunk packed full of my clothes—something that surprised me, considering someone must have returned to my apartment in order to get my clothes. And I thought my apartment was a no go …
After taking a quick nap with Blue (who relentlessly refused to sleep on the floor and ended up at the end of my cot, his big head sandwiched between my feet), I tried to amuse myself by playing various board games with Trey, Sam, Dia, and Quill. All the while, I continued to grill them about The Resistance. After obtaining no more information than previously, I decided to give it a rest. Instead, I opted for some fresh air along with some “me” time. Trey asked to take Blue to a party that Elsie was hosting for her new canine students; so I found myself alone, which was just as well. My only other option was to play Bingo with the rest of the base and that thought made me want to go back to bed.
"Nice to see you too," Knight grumbled down at me. There was a small glint in his eye, like he was more than happy to see me. I felt something rising inside me—something that felt happy as well, but I quashed it down. Instead, I kept reminding myself that things between Knight and me weren't resolved yet, and until they were, I wasn't about to sweep the past events under the proverbial rug.
I found him unloading wooden crates of what looked like maple syrup into a makeshift storage facility that was maybe six feet tall and four feet wide. The storage facility was located at the far west of the base, off a one-lane dirt road and under the canopy of an oak tree grove. The only reason I’d actually been able to find him was because I'd decided to take a run around the perimeter of the base and happened to spot the Denali, which wasn't very well hidden on the side of the road. Even so, it wasn't like he was out in the open. Nope, whatever was in the crates had to be something top secret, which was why he was busily unloading it under cover of darkness. Only the moon’s light illuminated his way.
I shivered, despite having just run over a mile, but my current getup of sports bra and stretch pants didn’t place me on the list of best dressed. "I'm sorry if I seem a little pissy at the moment, but no one k
nows what the hell is going on around here and it’s getting old really fast," I barked back.
Knight took me in from head to toe and smiled warmly as he leaned against the Denali, apparently not averse to taking a break from his unloading. "Everyone is taken care of," he said absentmindedly, devouring my body with his eyes again. "You don't have anything to worry about."
"Yeah, except for the intention of declaring war on the Netherworld in order to excommunicate ourselves."
He raised both brows, obviously surprised. "Where did you hear that?"
I frowned. "That's what everyone seems to think is going on. As I mentioned before, no one really knows just what the hell is going on."
He nodded and expelled a pent-up breath of air before hoisting another crate into his arms, and depositing it into the large storage facility at the right of us. "You're welcome for retrieving your clothes, by the way."
I swallowed down an acid reply, but couldn’t conceal my surprise. "You went to my apartment and brought my clothes back?"
He placed the crate down and dusted his hands together, offering me a boyish smile. His hair was mussed and a few pitch-black strands obscured his left eye, giving him a rakish, sexy look. "I did."
"I thought there was a reason I wasn't allowed back there, and I assume the same reason applies to you too?"
He leaned against the Denali and wrapped his beefy arms around himself, just studying me for a few seconds. "It does."
"Then it was pure stupidity for you to do that," I said pointedly. I didn’t appreciate the wicked gleam in his eye, much less how gorgeous he was. It just wasn't fair.
"You're welcome," he said, his smile still in place as he locked the door to the storage facility and started for the front of the Denali. Opening his door, he turned to face me. "You getting in? Or do you plan to freeze out here all night?"
I frowned, realizing I'd have to take him up on his offer if I wanted to get any of my questions answered. I started forward and watched him seat himself. He closed his door and reached across to open mine. I hefted myself into the passenger seat as he turned the engine on and put the car in drive. The inside of the Denali smelled like him—crisp, clean aftershave combined with spiciness and ... Knight.
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