by Jamie Magee
“It’s not ending shit,” Talon said.
“I know that, you know that. Chalice has always been a stupid fuck. Zale had him hook, line, and sinker on the idea,” he laughed. “Stupid ass is still under the spell of Zale’s words.”
“How so?” Talon asked.
Akan shook his head before he met Talon’s eyes. “Who do you think is behind the dead men walking?”
“Chalice thinks immortals are abominations. Why in the hell would he raise the dead?” Talon pushed, holding a knowing glint in his eyes.
“It’s all about the recipe, what’s needed to make the drug perfect.”
“Let me guess, you need the dead’s blood this go round, or no, wait, their jizz,” Echo said across a menacing laugh.
Akan shook his head. “Nope, just a proper cook.”
Even though they were baffled none of the Sons’ expressions revealed that. Neither Miah nor Talley would know a damn thing about cooking a drug as far as the Sons knew.
They were being bullshitted by Akan and they knew it.
“What? No follow up question?” Akan asked when silent moments ticked by, when Thames and Echo lowered their guns slightly.
“Just chillin’,” Echo said with a wink.
“Waiting for Miah to show, right?” Akan asked, lifting a brow. “You think because I shifted back to my own form he’s caught my scent and is making his way here. Let me guess, you’re going to try and trap a dead man, then get him to lead you to your boy that’s still off his fucking rocker and wrap this shit up.”
“Now there’s a plan,” Talon said, settling back into the couch.
“Not going to work,” Akan said in the humblest tone Talon had ever heard him use; there was almost a plea there.
Talon narrowed his dark stare on Akan. “What did you say to Miah to get him to go away when he nearly ended your immortal life?”
Akan bit his lip before he breathed in and spoke. “Miah was ticked at me for having good time with his woman. I just happened to tell him where she was.”
Talon slanted his head to the side as his dark gaze drifted over Akan. He knew exactly where Miah’s woman was. The night they found Miah murdered, Evanthe and Zale long gone, she walked in and assumed the Sons had killed Miah and went bat shit crazy, all but begged for death with every blow she delivered. Reveca had sent that woman to the Veil long ago.
“And he just decided to go back to his grave on his own?”
“He didn’t know she was dead. I’m sure he figured it out when he found himself trapped, though.”
“You trapped a dead man?” Judge asked, clearly showing his disbelief in his tone. He had faced off with Talley and what was in Talley, and knew it wouldn’t be easy to subdue anything that fierce.
“It’s not going to hold long. Look, these dead fucks have one goal: to lay their seed down. You think hanging on to me is going to get you Miah? You’re wrong. Rumor has it that you already have all the bait you need,” he smirked. “Talley’s piece of ass.”
Judge charged forward. It took both Thames and Echo to hold him back. “You’re not weak,” Thames grunted into Judge’s ear. Meaning that when Judge acted out like that he was clearly telling the world exactly what it would take to destroy him, basically daring them to push his buttons and distract him.
Judge pushed Thames off and crossed his arms, glaring at Akan.
“Right,” Akan said. “You want to stop this, then you need Chalice. He’s the one rousing the dead.”
“Always so quick to shift the blame,” Talon said with a smirk.
Akan pointed at his chest as if in shock. “I’m being hunted. As soon as Miah gets out of his trap he’s after me. I have a stake in this, too. Dead fucks should stay dead in my book. We now have a common enemy: Chalice. Trade me for him, and end this bullshit.”
“Trade you?” Talon said with a laugh.
“You heard me. You tell Latour you trapped me, that you want to meet up with him and trade me for Chalice.”
“And what makes you think Latour will give up his angel for the likes of you?” To say the least Talon was intrigued with this plotting. He didn’t need Akan to lead him to Chalice or to trap him.
Akan leaned forward. “Latour may be born again, or whatever he wants to call himself, but he’s still a greedy son of a bitch. He wants my connections to push Black into the hands of more users. His golden dream is for it to be the drug of choice. I swear to you Latour will trade Chalice for me, and when you get Chalice you’ll be able to stop him from the bullshit he’s caused, and lay down your boy again, put Miah back in his tomb and we can all resume our war.”
“Sounds like you’ve put some thought behind this notion.”
Akan narrowed his eyes. “Chalice knew I was a threat, that I could get Latour to listen to me. To stop me he brought back Miah thinking that would take care of the problem I was.”
“Which is why you want protection,” Talon surmised.
“Someone get this man a cookie.”
Talon stood slowly, towering over Akan from where he sat. In a blink of an eye Talon reached forward and snapped his neck, rendering him unconscious.
He glanced back to the others, “Let’s go home, boys. Call a crew to get our baggage.”
***
The last week of Adair Vallet’s life had been a living hell. Her hell, of course, was having to listen to anyone tell her what to do and how to do it.
Her mind was still janked beyond measure. Memories of the Boneyard, of those she knew in the short time she worked there years back, had been ever so slowly trickling in, but the night of the accident and the days right before then were still a hot mess in her mind. She strained so hard to remember what really happened, not what her mind had said occurred, that when she did recall a new, alternate detail she wasn’t sure if she’d made it up or if it was a truth that she so desperately needed to unlock.
For the past week Adair had done her best to manage her clients via phone so she could still pay her bills when all this hell was done. She had also reread Finley’s entire book looking for answers and finding nothing about laying the dead down.
Since she was trapped at the Boneyard she had to rely on Miriam to go through Jade’s spell books then read what she found via phone, which was nothing that could help Adair. Most of her other free moments were spent in a hidden library with Gwinn, Bastion, and Reveca.
Adair refused to put her guard down around Reveca and the others until she understood exactly how they had invaded her mind. At best she was herself around Gwinn, but at times the way Gwinn would look at Adair, like she knew something she didn’t, would cause Adair to put her guard up once more.
No matter how many times Adair asked about this dark angel business, what Dagen and King were, Gwinn refused to answer or would say something like ‘you need to talk to them, or Reveca.’
Adair didn’t care to talk to King, the way he looked at her unnerved her, like he saw something that she couldn’t even fathom deep inside. Dagen didn’t look at her like that but he loved to sprout a half smirk every time she dared to push him on what he was, how he could do what he did. Instead of answering, he taught her how to use energy as a weapon, more so than Adair had known to do in the past. Before, with intense concentration, Adair might have been able to make a door swing shut, ruffle some papers with the wind, but now she could do way more.
She could move anything if she focused. Sometimes she wouldn’t have to at all—she could even fight with energy now, defend herself. She was still a novice, had yet to get the one up on Gwinn or Bastion, much less Dagen, but the fact that she had a weapon beyond her guns gave her some peace.
Reveca wanted Adair to remember what spell Finley had in mind to help Talley but refused to tell Adair how she had taken memories from her or undo whatever spell she had done to do so, therefore, Adair kept what she recalled to herself. At best she would barter, tell Reveca she would share when she vividly remembered if Reveca let her read the books Gwinn and she were constan
tly studying in the library, ones they kept from Adair.
Reveca hesitated, but then later gave Adair a history book as she called is, one whose author was not noted. The book spoke about the birth of first generation vampires, wolves, shifters, seers—all things myth. The words kept Adair wide awake late at night. They had her wondering even more so about the souls at the Boneyard that were all but holding her captive.
Little Dove were the two words that constantly haunted her, made her ache. They were not alone either. The words about the Phoenix—The flaming bird will turn to ash survival lurks blindly in the mind. Surrender brings forth the victory—also stayed in a constant loop in the back of her mind.
All the madness going on her life, in her mind alone, did nothing to stop her thoughts from rushing back to Judge. They were not nice thoughts to say the least. She felt burned and betrayed each time his image popped in her mind. He said all that crap about he being his and how what was done had to be done and then he just left…
Well into the next day when she woke in the sunroom, where she feel asleep talking to King, Judge was long gone and hadn’t emerged since.
When she saw him again it wasn’t going to be pretty. She remembered them. As far as she knew she had recalled it all. The memory didn’t come from any of the long mediations she had slipped into or any mind-opening spell she had tried to cast upon herself, or even those times Dagen would emerge and ‘hold her hand’ for a moment. Most of them flared into life when she tended bar at the Boneyard lounge.
The Boneyard was packed with bikers and the crowd that followed them, and had been for days, while the Club stayed on lockdown. Just to take a break from the craft each night, Adair had started to help Star out at the bar in the lounge. Gwinn had, too. It was the third night of doing so that Adair broke ground with Judge’s memory, and it was because jealousy struck her core.
There was a cute little blonde sauntering around the lounge, having a good time rousing Steele and a few other guys. It was the way the she moved across Steele’s lap, how she glanced over her shoulder at Adair that made it all come rushing back. Adair remembered the same girl in Judge’s arms, him disappearing with her down the hall that led to Church years ago.
The memory struck her so hard, so fiercely, that Adair dropped the bottles in her hand. She remembered Judge not only taking that girl down the hall but other girls as well. She remembered getting in his face about it days later.
“You listen to me, asshole. No one walks on me or controls me. How dare you take whores down that hall then tell others I’m ‘off limits.’ I say who I slip away with, not you. I will—”
Judge crashed his lips into hers, pushing her to the wall and melding his body against hers, making her head spin.
When the long, hot, sensual kiss ended he looked deep in her eyes as if she were the biggest mystery he’d ever crossed and said, “They’re not you.” His hands squeezed her sides. “I’m no good for you, Dove. Every time you look at me like that you fuck up any and all willpower I have.”
“You want me but you don’t. So you take nasty bitches down that hall? You want me to feel sorry for you?” she spat back.
He cursed under his breath and hit the wall next her. “I want you to tell me to leave you the fuck alone.”
“I just did,” she bit out.
“That is not what your eyes are saying, and that is not why you left with him last night.”
Adair dropped her gaze and pushed against him but he didn’t move. “You feel it, too. This pull,” he said in a deep, aching whisper.
It took all the strength she had but she managed to squeeze out one word. “Maybe.”
“I was trying to stop it.”
“You picked the wrong way.” She turned her head to the side. “I can’t even look at you now without seeing those girls.” This was the first conversation they’d ever had and she already felt hurt and betrayed by him. She was sure she was not cut out for a biker like him.
He leaned down, an inch from her face. “I didn’t go any further than you did.” Pain dripped from his every word.
Her glare shot to his eyes. “How do you know how far I went?”
Judge never answered her question. “I haven’t even tasted you yet and you are all I crave. Everything else makes me feel sick and empty.”
Adair swayed her head as she calmly told her heart to settle down, long enough for her to recall all Finley had told her about the men in Talley’s world, all she knew from her own observations. Complicated was an understatement.
“You look at another girl—and I will kill you. Got it? I don’t share and I’m not fucking waiting for you to get your head right. We go for this or we walk away before we both cut too deep.”
His smile was slow and sweet, boyish even. “Take a ride with me,” he said, reaching for her hand and lacing his fingers with hers.
The entire lot cheering as he took his kut off and put it on her before they rode out, the proud look on Talley’s face, the look on all the boys in the life, was a priceless nod of approval.
Adair could only assume he found a way to deal with his willpower issue—blind her ass and send her off.
She told herself that there was no reason to be hurt, jacked up over something that happened so many years ago, everyone had exes to contend with. In most cases she could make herself believe the lie, but she knew the second she saw him again it was going to be hell to keep her heart in one piece—which meant she needed to figure out how not to ever see him.
She wanted to solve what was going on with Talley and be long gone before he rode back into town. She was leaving the Boneyard one way or another.
Adair hadn’t told a soul what she remembered about her and Judge, but she was sure Reveca had somewhat figured it out. Right after Adair had dropped those bottles a few nights ago and the blonde laughed, Reveca pulled the girl out of the lounge by her hair and she hadn’t been seen around since.
Now each time Adair tried to start a conversation with someone at the bar, acted like she remembered them from years back they would quickly change the subject if not out and out walk away.
It was like the whole Boneyard was conspiring to keep her in the dark and it stung deep—there was no way for her to know if she was with enemies or friends.
Anger came to her defense, though, and when Adair was angry, more times than not her most brilliant ideas emerged.
Earlier today Reveca had told Adair that she and King were taking a boat ride to go and pick up some dude Star talked about all the time, Cashton, and wouldn’t be back til the AM. Adair had watched Thrash and Knight board the boat with her.
Shade, Rush, and Steele, with a group of other guys that Adair hadn’t met yet, were still on a ‘run’ as they called it. Adair finally had gotten Gwinn to admit to her that meant they were staking out Latour’s compound.
With nearly all of those patched into the core of the mother chapter out and about, Adair knew she would never catch another opportunity like this one.
Her goal was to get to the Cage, where they were holding that ass that was there when Talley attacked her the last time.
The Cage was basically a swamp house on the far end of the property. Getting there was not the issue, getting past the ever-watchful eyes around the Boneyard was.
She needed a distraction and was sure she had a perfect plan. Tonight she managed to spike everyone’s drink at the lounge with a natural aphrodisiac. It didn’t take long for everyone to start hooking up, lost in lust filled intentions.
“The lounge is closed, get the fuck out of here—lights out!” Taurus bellowed from the front of the bar as he flicked the lights on and off trying to stop the outright orgyfest that had gotten out of control faster than Adair could have ever hoped for.
Star had told Gwinn and Adair to stop serving just before Taurus’s aggressive announcement. Adair was trying to look busy cleaning up, being one of the sober, responsible ones. Which was easier said than done when a few of the riders in the bar, who had n
ot dared to look Adair’s way before, started to look at her like she was a steak dinner.
“Bastion. get ‘em home, fucking shoot anyone who dares to touch ‘em,” Taurus ordered, which made Bastion’s night. He boldly put his arm around Adair and Gwinn leading them home.
Adair did her best to stifle a grin of victory when she heard Taurus continue his rant, saying the party was over that either they left or went to their sleep quarters, no exceptions.
Yep, Adair thought to herself, I’m getting answers tonight, then I’m getting the fuck out of here.
Chapter Three
Adair glanced at Gwinn as they started to climb the steps to the Victorian home. “Yep, nice family, safe environment.” Her tone was thick with sarcasm.
“It’s never been like that before,” Gwinn said, failing to hide the apprehension in her voice. She wanted Shade, it had been days since he’d been home, and at this point Gwinn thought she would explode if she didn’t come face to face with him. He was the only one she didn’t have to guard her words around, that knew every side to what Gwinn was dealing with.
Gwinn couldn’t tell Adair half the things she wanted to tell her, and Reveca—it was still hard to gauge where her emotional state was.
“That was awesome,” Bastion said with a boyish smirk on his face.
Adair grimaced, feeling a bit guilty about what she had orchestrated, what the boy had seen tonight.
When Bastion opened the front door a cold, dense energy slammed into Adair, stealing her breath, causing every part of her to tense.
She hated this.
Hate was an understatement—she loathed being at the Boneyard. It took a lot to freak out a witch and this home had done exactly that.
First of all, she knew the home thanks to her vivid dreams—which was just weird. Secondly, her dog loved to interact and play with no one who could be seen. And lastly, since Adair had awoken in the sunroom she saw and felt a dense, cold energy hovering around her, only to fade the second Reveca emerged.
There were one too many spirits in this house as far as Adair was concerned.