by Dannika Dark
I pushed the box away. “You can keep it. Did you know the devil lies within? That’s what it says on the side, written in some archaic language.” I spun the box in a circle. “Are you the devil?”
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose.
Yep. He was pissed.
“You broke my trust,” he said.
I snorted. “Seriously? You ruined my life. You left me in a morgue, kidnapped me, sold me to an abusive Mage, kidnapped me again, and sold me back to my abuser. Do you really think I care if I hurt your feelings over a little white lie that saved this city?”
“I can shut off the lights again.”
“But you won’t.”
“What makes you so certain?”
I leaned back, hands resting on the edge of the table. “Because you insist that nothing you do is out of maliciousness. You’re merely conducting your own experiments to study what happens. If you shut off the lights because you’re mad at me, that’ll prove everything you’ve told me about you is a lie. And maybe I want you to.” I reached in the bowl and chomped on a few salty peanuts. “Go on. Shut off the lights.”
“You know I won’t do that. But the key is mine.”
“Is it? Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
He leaned forward. “Then I guess that makes you mine.”
“I’m not in your possession.”
“Aren’t you?”
“If you weren’t a Vamp, I’d blast you into oblivion.”
When I stood up to leave the table, he captured my arm.
“There are consequences for every action.”
I jerked my arm, but his grip was iron. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s Newton’s third law of motion.”
I bent down and flashed my fangs. “Let me go.”
“I don’t like this side of you,” he said, releasing his hold.
“You mean the side that stands up to you and doesn’t give a shit about your threats? Too bad. If you want to continue this conversation, I’ll be playing tarts.” I barked out a laugh. “I mean darts.”
After grabbing my beer, I headed toward the steps that led to the game room. Hopefully he’d disappear like he always did. How had he known I was here? Probably because he followed me from home. Houdini had trespassed on our property on at least three occasions that I knew about, so it wouldn’t surprise me.
“Raven, come back. I’m not finished talking to you.”
“Nope. I seem to have a bad track record with talking to you alone in bars when I’m drunk. If you want to talk to me, you’ll have to do it in front of an audience.”
I weaved toward the two dartboards against the far wall. The intermittent sound of pool sticks cracking against balls filled the gaps between conversations.
Houdini grabbed my arm, this time more forcefully. “Come outside.”
I turned, raising my arm to pull away. “Let me go before you break it! You don’t get to decide my fate anymore.”
“I’ve done nothing but help you,” he said so that no one else could hear. “I returned your memories.”
“After you took them! What kind of favor was that? It’s like stealing someone’s dog and then claiming the reward.”
“You’d be better off without them, and you know it. Funny how the moment I return your memories, you leave Keystone.”
“Quit stalking me.”
When I tried wrenching away, I fell against a large man.
Still gripping my arm, Houdini dragged me toward the bar. I dug my heels in, grabbing anything I could, including someone’s belt.
Houdini abruptly stopped, and when I looked up, four brawny men were blocking his path. Their muscled arms were crossed, and one of them had mirrored sunglasses shielding his eyes. Would Houdini risk charming the other three? Would he expose himself as a Vampire in a Shifter bar and start a brawl? Curious, I watched on.
“This is a personal matter,” Houdini informed them. “I would advise you to step aside and let us pass.”
The big guy with the shades jerked his chin at me. “When you mess with a Graves, you mess with us. And we don’t step aside.”
A smile ghosted my lips. Somehow these guys knew I was Crush’s daughter. Maybe they remembered me from years ago when Crush used to bring me here, but I hadn’t been back since those early days, so none of them looked familiar.
Houdini released his hold and turned to face me. “I gave you a chance to make this right. What happens next is on you.”
The men parted, allowing him to pass, and when Houdini reached the steps, I angrily grabbed a pool ball and threw it at him. He turned like lightning and caught it in his hand, crushing it to pieces before making his exit.
“Did you see that?” someone exclaimed. “Holy shit, that guy was a Vamp.”
“I knew it,” a woman declared. “You can always tell when they’re wearing contacts.”
But they hadn’t suspected a thing. Houdini didn’t wear contacts, and nothing about him looked like a Vampire.
I grabbed a random beer bottle sitting on the edge of a table and took a swig. Did he expect me to be compliant simply because he was my maker? I suddenly had more clarity drunk than I did sober about what he’d been doing. Maybe Christian was right. Maybe Houdini really was gaslighting me, because all I’d been doing was rationalizing his actions. Even now I was doubting myself, wondering if I’d overreacted. Throwing the box into the river had been a ruse, but now whatever he had planned was going to be my fault. Why? Because I refused to talk to him.
One of the big dudes who had confronted Houdini hustled over and lifted me off my feet before setting me on the edge of a pool table. “You all right?” The look of concern on his face had me worried.
“Maybe it’s broken,” another man suggested. “She’s too drunk to notice, and he had a firm grip. Did you see what he did to that ball?”
I set down my beer and squeezed my bicep. After flexing my arm and turning the shoulder, there didn’t seem to be any injuries. Houdini was incredibly strong, but he hadn’t broken any bones. Maybe a little bruising, but my long sleeves were covering up my arm.
“Nice shirt,” a woman said. “I dated a drummer once. They have stamina, and I love going all night.”
A lean man cackled. “Oh yeah, Tonya? Back when I used to play, I seem to remember this woman who fell asleep on top of me during sex. Oh wait, that was you.”
She pursed her lips. “That says more about you than it does me, honey.”
“Where is she?” Crush boomed from the bar.
I fell back on the table and scooted to the center, attempting to hide from his view.
The men weren’t any help. As soon as they noticed my cowering reaction, they stepped aside and raised their arms to point.
I gazed up at the light. “Nobody is ever on my side.”
When Crush’s face appeared over mine, I reached up and tugged on his goatee. “Hey, Daddy-o. What brings you here?”
“I got a call that said you were shit-faced.”
“Did someone put out an all-points bulletin?” I pulled a ball out from under my back and rolled it across the table. “Was it that guy at the bar? Sal? Did he snitch on me?”
“Never you mind.”
“You didn’t have to come all this way. I didn’t plan on driving home. I just had a rough day at the office.”
Someone approached Crush and gave him an appraising glance. “What the hell happened to you?”
Crush had a fat lip and black eye, but my guess was that people were more concerned with his limp and the cane.
I eased up on my elbows. “Wait a second. How did you get here? You can’t drive a motorcycle in your condition.”
“Wizard brought me.”
“Swell.” When I sat all the way up, I hit my head on the overhead lamp. “Where is he?”
“Outside. One of us will drive your truck back home.”
“That’s not a plan. You can’t drive.”
“My right foot is
fine, and that’s the only one I need.” His eyes darted around, and the way he kept mashing his lips together revealed he wasn’t happy having this conversation around people who knew him. “What did you have tonight?”
“A lot of quick fucks.”
Riotous laughter erupted in the room.
Wizard swaggered into the bar, and I only recognized him through the smoky haze because of his long black mustache, which went across his upper lip and down the sides of his mouth. Several men clapped his back and greeted him. He took one look at me and hoisted me off the table by my waist before tossing me over his shoulder.
“You got a real hell-raiser there, Crush,” the man in shades said, and he meant it as a compliment.
When I glanced up, everyone was giving me the bye-bye wave.
A redhead waggled her eyebrows at Crush. “You should come in here more often, honey. I’ll take real good care of you.”
“Keys?” Wizard asked, approaching the bar.
I heard a jingle as the bartender tossed them over.
As soon as we made it outside, I slapped Wizard on the ass. “Put me down before I throw up.”
When my feet suddenly hit the ground, I teetered before he caught me around my waist.
He tossed his keys to Crush. “I’ll drive her back. Looks like she’s gonna need someone to lift her ass into the truck. Meet you at your place. Take care of my baby.”
To my relief, Wizard had his work truck with him instead of his bike. I wriggled free and plastered myself against the door. At least it was Wizard seeing me like this instead of Switch.
Crush tapped his cane against my truck. “Strap her up. I want to make sure she’s alive so I can kill her when we get home.”
CHAPTER 24
Wizard tossed me onto the sofa. “She’s funny when she’s drunk.”
I opened my eyes and peered up at the two men.
Crush stroked his goatee and turned away. “I don’t want to see her make it into a habit.”
Wizard grunted as he turned his back. “Me neither. She sang the entire lyrics to ‘American Pie’ on the way home. I think she’s sobered up a little. Especially after throwing up on Route 12.”
“I’m in the room,” I reminded them.
Crush leaned on his cane as he escorted Wizard to the door. “Thanks for helping out.”
“Anytime, old friend. Enjoy the new fixtures in the bathroom.”
Crush swung his cane at Wizard, but he’d already bolted out the door. “Dammit, I told you not to do anything else!” He slammed the door. “Bastard. He can’t just leave well enough alone. Next thing you know, he’ll be laying down wood floors.”
I dizzily sat up. “What do you have against change?”
“I got something against people helping me like I’m some kind of—”
“Person who needs help?” I finished. “They’re not doing it because you’re an invalid. You’ve done a lot over the years to help out your friends. Don’t you think they want to repay you and show the same kindness?”
He limped into the kitchen. The light from the fridge blinked on, casting a white glow on the walls before he slammed the door shut. Crush moved slowly across the shag rug and handed me a giant bottle of electrolytes.
“I’d rather have coffee,” I grumbled.
“You need water. Alcohol dehydrates the body. If you don’t suck down some water now, you’ll regret it in the morning.”
“I’m a Mage.”
He sat down in his chair and dropped the cane. “And that means you still have to deal with gastrointestinal problems like everyone else. I know all about your kind. Drink up.”
I unscrewed the cap and chugged down as much as I could to satisfy the old man. No matter how old you get, your parents never stop being parents.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Bad day.”
He grimaced as he pushed the handle on the recliner and flipped up the footrest. “Next time you have a bad day, come home and I’ll grill some ribs. Nothing makes you forget your troubles like my baby back ribs.”
When I leaned over to set the bottle on the end table, I noticed a shoebox on the floor. “What’s this doing in here?”
“I was just looking through some old stuff.”
I pulled the shoebox onto my lap and grabbed a stack of old pictures. Some were of us, some of Crush in the early days when he was young and nearly unrecognizable, and then there were a few of my mama. I’d never seen any of these before. He had a few photo albums, but most of them were memories of birthdays and Christmases.
“Why do you keep these in a shoebox?”
“In case there’s a fire and I need to get out fast. I put a few of my favorites in there and keep it under the lamp table.”
I held one up and smiled.
Crush looked at it wistfully when I turned to let him see. “That’s my Bonnie Bluebird. She had the most beautiful brown eyes. I wish I had more of your mother, but she never liked having her picture taken. All her albums burned in the fire. Pictures of you, pictures of her—it’s like they were all erased.”
After a long silence, I decided to tell Crush what was really eating away at me. “I went to confront Christian today.”
“Is that so?”
I set down the pictures and reclined my head. “I told him how I feel about him—about us—and what I want.”
“And?”
“I didn’t want to rush him into an answer. I found out he has a history with Lenore that goes way back, but I don’t know the details. To be honest, I don’t care. I just want him to make a choice.”
“Is this what you really want? To be tied down to a Vamp?”
I opened my eyes and held his gaze. “I know you’re not fond of Christian, but you also said I have to make decisions on what makes me happy. I’ve never loved anyone, and maybe that’s my flaw. I have nothing to compare it to. But he makes me happy, and being around him makes me feel human again. I’ve been through a lot, and I’m not the same girl you once knew. I want to be, and sometimes I can still feel her inside me. But I’ve hardened in ways that are terrifying. If I don’t open myself up to this, I don’t know what I’ll become.”
“I know that look. I came back from war the same way, and it was your mother who saved me.”
Crush and I had more in common than I could have ever imagined.
I glanced at another picture. “If he wants to get serious, we have to tell Viktor. I can’t keep my feelings for Christian a secret any longer. Hopefully Viktor will make an exception or pair us with someone else. But if not, we might lose our jobs and get a memory wipe.” A smile touched my lips. “Feel like introducing me to Christian if I forget him?”
“Fat chance.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Anyhow, if he says he’s not ready to get serious and go public, then we keep what we had a secret and go back to being partners. The past stays in the past.”
“And that’s not gonna mess with your head?”
I’d been convincing myself that I could compartmentalize my feelings, just as I’d learned to do after escaping Fletcher all those years ago. But part of me wanted to have a good old-fashioned breakdown in the bathroom at the idea of Christian saying no.
I rubbed my face, still feeling the residual effects of the alcohol. “After meeting with Christian, I confronted Lenore.”
“Jesus, girl. You had a busy day.” He tugged a blanket over his lap as if he were getting ready for someone to tell him a juicy campfire story. “Did you kick her ass?”
“As much as that would make your night, no. I handled it like an adult. She needed to know that I’m onto her game.”
“What’s her Breed?”
“Vampire.”
His eyes narrowed. “I want you to be careful with that rattlesnake, Raven. I know you got my fiery blood running through you, but if you can’t match her strength, keep away. The last thing you need is to make enemies with a Vamp.”
“I want nothing more than to have her out
of my life, but for now I need her.”
“Does this have to do with the debt?”
I pulled my legs up and continued rummaging through the box. “I’m taking care of everything. I paid General a large advance, and he agreed to leave us alone until Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“What happens then?”
I examined an old ticket stub for a concert. “That’s when I owe him the rest.”
“Or what?”
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
“That’s a lot of money, Cookie. I just don’t see how.”
Crush had no idea how much money we were talking about here. I didn’t want to tell him that General had upped the ante. News like that might give the old man a heart attack or fill him with guilt. I just wanted him to focus on getting better and back to work.
I unfolded my mom’s obituary. Crush kept another one in a photo album, and I’d read it a dozen times. This one looked like his personal copy, the paper yellowed and worn at the edges. It didn’t talk about what school she went to, where she grew up, or her accomplishments in life. It said that her beautiful voice had brought heaven to earth and the world was quieter without her angelic laugh. It mentioned how she gave everyone a second chance—sometimes three. It said that Bonnie knew how to love people the way they needed to be loved and she fought for what mattered. It said her beloved daughter would grow up without ever knowing how beautiful her mama looked dancing under a moonlit sky with stars in her eyes. It said Bonnie made the best lasagna and sometimes called people she loved at godforsaken hours of the night just to tell them she was thinking about them. It said her funeral would be held on a Saturday and everyone was asked to wear blue in her honor. But I was the only one who wore black that day.
I choked on a sob before carefully placing the clipping back in the box. Tears wet my cheeks, but it wasn’t the first time Crush had seen me cry over a box of memories.
“I wish we had video,” he said. “But we just lived in the moment and didn’t think about those things. I wished you could have heard that woman sing.”
“I did. Sometimes her face is fuzzy, but I’ll never forget her voice.”