by J. Kearston
“You have siblings?” At Jeremy’s nod, Dorian smiles. “Perfect. Okay, so just like you love your brother and that connection is important, so is the one you have with your mom or your sister. They’re different, but all equally as important. Now say you get a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Just because you’re sleeping with them, that doesn’t mean you don’t love your brother any less or have to stop talking to your parents.”
His eyes widen when it’s clear he finally gets it and he’s processed it in a way he can wrap his head around. “So don’t get caught up with the sex part, because that’s not the point. You don’t get married so you always have somebody to fuck, it’s because you like the person and that connection is what you’re trying to hold onto.” He nods to himself, grinning. “That’s actually pretty fuckin’ awesome. I have trouble keeping a steady boyfriend or girlfriend; I can’t imagine juggling three.” He chuckles to himself. “But this-” he gestures at all of us- “makes a hell of a lot of sense.”
I tip my glass in his direction, pleasantly surprised at the direction this took. “Especially from a financial standpoint. For me at least.” I wink at Lucien as he tries to hide his amusement.
It may be pandering to his ego, but the guy seriously struggles with his need to take care of his family. If mooching off of the man makes him happy, who am I to take that joy away from him? Such a sacrifice, really.
“So, Jer,” Atlas starts, pulling us back onto the topic we kept getting derailed from, “you think you can help?”
Jeremy scoffs, cracking his knuckles and pulling a laptop from a bag beside his chair. “You can stay here, but information is going to cost you extra.” He switches to work mode, his attention transfixed on the screen as he boots it up.
“You find the bastard that did this, I’ll pay you double,” Lucien offers easily, still keyed up despite the fact it’s been hours since he realized we weren’t dead.
Jeremy’s head jerks up as his eyes widen. “You didn’t even hear my price.”
Lucien raises a single eyebrow, unfazed. “Someone tried to murder my family. I don’t give a shit about the money; I want a name.” Jeremy’s cheeks heat as he ducks back to work, attempting to subtly adjust himself.
Same, Jer. Same.
The night drags on and eventually we pile into the spare bedroom, finding only a twin bed. Unless we want a massive, people sandwich, we’re looking at an absolute max of three people, and even that’s pushing it. I sigh dramatically, feigning being put out.
“I guess I’m going to have to bunk in the other bed. Such a shame.”
You’d think having your house explode would be enough chaos for a fae to rest well at night, but energy thrums through my veins without rhyme or reason, leaving me worked up and energized with no outlet.
Atlas growls, slamming a hand out from where he stands beside the open doorway to bar the exit. “Bull-fuckin-shit.”
I kiss the hollow of his throat, rubbing my cheek against his chest. “Wanna make a deal? Or just duke it out?” I adopt a fighting stance, bouncing on the balls of my feet, but Dorian captures me from behind and tosses me on the bed.
“Are you okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned and not buying into my instigations. “You’re acting weirder than usual. Freaking out on us?”
I pivot so that I’m kneeling on the mattress, strumming my fingers on my thigh. “Nah, I’m just not tired. I feel like I chugged a gallon of energy drinks instead of booze.”
Atlas curses, crossing the room and getting in my face. He grabs my chin and twists my head this way and that while I lick my tingling lips. My skin is crawling and I’m half inclined to rub myself against him like a horny cat.
“Jesus, she’s high as a kite,” he declares, cursing and scrubbing his free hand over his mouth. “Pupils are blown to hell.”
I lean forward to kiss him, but he pulls back. “No, bad fae. Down girl,” he scolds, capturing my wrists in one of his and turning to an equally furious Dorian. “Watch her.” He storms out of the room before the others can, slamming the door shut behind him.
There’s silence, and the longer it stretches on, the more deafening it seems to become. I start humming to combat it, not wanting to lose my happy buzz and think of things better left buried. Dorian claps a hand over my mouth and I arch my ass into him, not sure when exactly I got to my feet.
“Cambria, there’s a human in the next room.” He peels his fingers away, sharing a look with Lucien. “She’s burning up.”
Once he points it out, that’s all I can focus on. I start trying to strip my clothes off, but Lucien stops me and slips a pen in my hand.
“Start clicking it,” he commands, and I’m helpless but to obey. “Is that better?”
My head swims as I nod and stumble, but they’re both there to keep me from falling on my ass. A laugh bubbles past my lips and I mentally smack myself, trying to shake away the haze clouding my brain. I have a vague sense of being on the outside of my body looking in; aware that I’m making an idiot of myself, but unable to stop it.
Fingers snap in front of my face and I blink several times, Lucien’s amber eyes hard. “You with me, love?”
I lean back against Dorian, closing my eyes while my head spins and my stomach churns, leaving me nauseous. “I feel weird.”
A hand strokes over my arm and I hum in pleasure, every touch heightened. “Do you know where you are?” someone asks and I answer on autopilot, shifting my thighs together as a wave of arousal hits me hard.
“Shit, how much did she drink?” Jeremy’s panicked voice comes before the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
Could be a punch, could be someone going to pound town. Why the fuck can’t I shut up?
“Nobody’s fucking Jeremy. Get your head out of the gutter and at least try to focus.” At Atlas’ harsh tone, my eyes snap open again.
I push past a sudden, intense bout of dizziness. “Not my fault you kept topping up my glass.”
He looks contrite, but honestly, I don’t blame him. I would’ve skipped the glass and just drank straight from the bottle if I had gotten there first. It’s been kind of a shit week. What with the f-
“Cambria, sweetheart, none of your thoughts are staying in your head.” Dorian’s knuckles brush by cheek before smoothing a hand down my hair in a soothing, steady rhythm. “So you need to watch your train of thought,” he warns.
“Saving that for a special occasion?” Lucien asks, violence promised with his tone.
Jeremy throws his hands up in surrender. “Yeah, but not for any of the shit you’re thinking! Glass of that gives someone loose lips without feeling more than drunk. Good for getting information. I had no idea Atlas was going to go rooting around in the back of my fridge instead of grabbing the bottle I left out on the counter!”
There’s some arguing over if we need to risk going to the hospital to get my stomach pumped or something, but everyone finally agrees to just keep forcing water down my throat and see if I sleep it off before jumping the gun and risking all of the questions that will come from that sort of attention. At some point Jeremy leaves the room, self-preservation winning out as it becomes clear he might not live the night otherwise. I sure as hell don’t feel like lying down to try and sleep though, my heart beating as fast as a hummingbird’s.
“I need to burn off some energy.”
“No one in this room is having sex with you right now, angel,” Atlas adamantly decrees from where he leans against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. “So do some pushups or something.”
I groan, pacing the confines of the small room. “Hate and love you for that, but seriously, I feel off more than just-” I stop abruptly and gesture to myself with a flourish- “this.”
The three of them share a look before Lucien speaks. “Her family was siphoning her power. She likely just doesn’t know what it’s like when they don’t, mixed with being wired and amped up on drugs.”
“Literally standing right here,” I growl, detesting when anyone
talks about me like I’m invisible.
Striding purposefully towards the window, I fumble it open and let the cool night air caress my fevered flesh. It’s a balm to my chaotic nerves, and my rising agitation isn’t doing me any favors.
“Love, you’ve got to stop.” A gentle hand lands on my shoulder, Lucien sliding the window back in place. “You’re going to give yourself away if you keep letting your abilities slip out.”
“Or what? If we reveal the fae to the humans we’ll be dragged in front of the queen and tortured to death?” I turn, leaning against the cool glass to face the overcrowded room acting more like a prison cell. “Hate to tell you, but that’s going to happen either way. Everyone is already trying to kill us, so why not actually let loose?” He pulls me against his chest despite my protests, only tightening his grip when my infuriated tears start soaking through his shirt.
“I was fine before you guys came along,” I croak, hating myself for not being able to stop. But the dam burst and with it comes the flood of things I’ve been trying to suppress for so long. “And I could breathe for the first time. Now I just keep getting stuffed in one cage or another, and no matter how far we run, some invisible chain keeps dragging us back.”
The hopelessness of the situation threatens to completely crush all of the pathetic walls I’ve built to keep myself sane through a lifetime of abuse. But they’re just as fake as everything else in my life, as fragile and breakable as I am.
Burying my face into his shirt, my voice comes out muffled and watery. “If they hate me so goddamn much, why won’t they just let me go?” Sobs wrack my body as I clutch the fabric, and no matter how much I scream at myself to stop, I can’t.
There’s a long stretch of silence while I cry myself out, a bone-deep weariness eventually settling over me. When Atlas passes me a bottle of water, I down it greedily, promptly followed by another. A headache is already pounding behind my eyes and I’m not looking forward to tomorrow in the slightest, but at least all of that energy has fizzled out now.
“Because you’re everything, Cambria, don’t you get that?” Lucien murmurs. “They’ve been stealing your strength for your entire life, become addicted to it. But I stand by my statement; they’re afraid of you. They’re just trying to get you back under control before you realize that they have a reason to be.”
I lie on the bed beside Dorian, resting my swimming head on his chest and curling into his side because I’m not ready to touch on that line of thought right now. “When you buy us a new house, we need to get a bed big enough for all of us,” I mumble, half asleep already.
Dorian chuckles, stroking a hand over my head. “Looks like Atlas beat you to the couch, Luce.”
He grumbles, the door shutting with a soft click behind him as I finally pass out, praying I wake up and all of this will have just been a bad dream.
***
It was, in fact, not a dream. I really did make that much of a jackass out of myself and I chalk Jeremy’s name up to the top spot on my shitlist. After drinking so much water that my stomach might legitimately explode, downing several pain killers to combat my splitting headache, and fumbling my way through a long shower, I’m starting to feel more like myself again.
A hot mess, but one with control of her own faculties at least. My terrible decisions should be my own, thank you very much.
I land a solid hit on Jeremy’s shoulder as I pass him on my way to the couch, stretching out across Atlas and Dorian. I rest my face on my arm on top of Atlas’ thigh, the room still spinning far too much for my liking.
“How’re you feeling?” Atlas asks, smoothing a hand up and down my spine.
“Pissed off and too nauseous to do anything about it. Abridged version please. We still like him, or no?”
Dorian starts massaging my calf. “Everybody kissed and made up while we were sleeping.”
“And as an apology, I called in a couple of favors to speed things along. One of Victor’s employees has been picked up several times on arson charges, but they never found enough to make any of them stick. I’d put my money on him.” Jeremy’s voice is overly animated, trying to make up for something that I logically know wasn’t his fault, but feeling like death tempers my sympathy.
“We already assumed as much though. But there’s a huge difference between just hating someone and actually going so far as to kill people.”
Jeremy does a few more taps on his keyboard when Lucien finally shows his face. He locks the door behind him, a few bags clutched in his hand. I have to do a double take, stunned to see him in sweatpants and a tight fitted, cheap t-shirt. He slips his sunglasses off as he sets breakfast on the coffee table in front of me, crouching and tilting my head to get a good look at my eyes.
“You look better,” he praises, despite the fact I feel like something the cat hacked up on a motel room floor.
“How is it that this is hotter than suits? Seriously, it’s not fair. You’re like a walking wet dream,” I complain, groaning as I sit up.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Are you just always turned on? I’m going to start thinking you’re only with us for the sex,” he teases and by the way the others’ hands still, they’re as surprised as I am that he’s being this open and lax in front of a relative stranger.
“Kind of, yeah,” I half shrug. “Life’s too short not to enjoy the ride when and where you can.” Reaching past him, I snag a breakfast sandwich. “I should have anticipated you wouldn’t trust any more food in this place.”
I give him a genuine smile that I hope conveys how much I honestly appreciate the lengths he goes to in a bid to take care of us. I wish that he’d stop thinking that he has to take the brunt of the burden and let us help more, but everyone has their quirks. Just because it isn’t even, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily unfair. He loves this by the satisfied look on his face and relaxed set of his shoulders. So I’ll just have to find other ways to pull my own weight so it doesn’t become too one sided of a relationship over time.
As soon as I get something in my stomach, I start feeling better quickly. By the time Jeremy is bragging about how amazing he is, I’m nearly my normal, delightful self again.
“So, it looks like he found out about the birth certificate being forged and made a copy. He’s hired at least a dozen people to dig into it and see what you’re hiding,” Jeremy announces to the room, grinning with self-satisfaction.
“She brought up a good point last night, though,” Dorian selectively states to the others. “Revealing her origins isn’t as big of a deal as it used to be beyond bringing unwanted attention to where she is.”
Jer frowns. “I meant Lucien. Just how much shit are you tied up in, Atty?”
Everyone wears matching masks of confusion as Atlas asks him to repeat himself, crossing the room to stare over his shoulder at the computer and reading everything with his own eyes. By the time he tears himself away, eyeing Luce with suspicion, everyone’s on edge.
“There something we should know, Luce?” Dorian asks, sounding hurt, but trying to conceal it.
Lucien looks honestly as baffled as the rest of us though. “I don’t understand.” He gets to his feet to hover behind Jeremy’s other shoulder as well, looking over everything with a critical eye. As he reads on, he slowly starts to deflate. Lucien’s always been detached, but he’s never looked so...lost.
“Did they ever figure out how your dad died?” I cautiously ask, waiting to see if he’s going to shut down the conversation because Jeremy’s still in the room.
He shakes his head. “We just knew he was missing and killed. By the time they found his body, so much time had passed it was nearly impossible to do anything more than guess. They listed it as a mugging gone wrong.”
I bite my lip before blurting out, “So he refused to talk about your mother, then your brother was just dumped with you in the middle of the night, and you never saw Maddox’s mom again either? It sort of sounds like he was hiding you guys.”
The time waiti
ng for him to speak is agonizing, but when he does, he sounds more closed off than ever. “I’m going to take a shower, then we can pick up a few supplies on our way out of town if no one objects. I’m about at my limit of things happening on this side lately.” He stalks out of the room and I waver, wanting to follow after him, but knowing logically that he needs some space to process the revelation and its implications.
“This side?” Jeremy asks. “What’s he talking about?”
I share a look with the guys, but just because I doubt we need to be as hypervigilant about revealing what I am as we’ve been up until now, that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to go spreading the news around either. He’s proved to be an asset so far, but humans are greedy and easily bought. If someone were to trace us back to him, the more information he has that can be used against us, the more dangerous.
“You know those rich execs,” I wave off. “Everything outside of their fancy offices is practically a different world.”
He narrows his eyes, but doesn’t call me out on it. Turning back to Atlas, he asks, “Want me to keep digging? See if I can find anything before someone else does?”
With Lucien out of the room, Atlas turns to Dorian. Of all of us, he’s known Lucien the longest and has a better read on him. So really, he should be the one to make the call if nobody is going to grow the balls to go check with Luce.
“Do it,” he decides with a sharp nod of his head. “The only way we’re going to be able to keep our heads above water is if we know just how deep things go. The more information the better right now so we don’t blindly walk into a trap.”
Jeremy passes Atlas a burner phone without so much as a word. We’ve been keeping ours off since the explosion so less likely to be traced, but whatever Jeremy does, he’s accustomed to keeping a low profile.
Atlas claps his friend’s shoulder before pocketing the phone. “I owe you one for this.”
He snorts. “You owe me a hell of a lot more than a favor depending on what I find. I’ll only call if I have something worth sharing to keep the line secure, so don’t wait up.”