by J. Kearston
He runs his hands over her, searching for wounds. When he doesn’t find any he breathes easier, but is by no means calm anymore. He wraps an arm over her shoulders and draws her into his side while the officer flicks her curious gaze between Cambria and the three of us, mostly Atlas and I.
“I got fired,” Cambria announces, like that explains everything. Lucien raises an eyebrow for her to continue and she bats her eyes. “And Dorian wasn’t a fan?” I narrow my eyes at her and she rolls hers. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll just go find somewhere else to work. Strip clubs pay better anyway.”
Atlas clenches his jaw. “You’re not working at a strip club. We aren’t that hard pressed for money, especially now that we’re letting go of two apartments. Don’t stress the money, beautiful, we’ll take care of it.”
He can’t see it from his angle, but I sure can. At his words, the little bit of light still left in her eyes fades out. Her entrancing, silver eyes go dull and what fight she still was holding in her shoulders sags out of her.
“Yeah, alright,” she monotonously agrees, getting a faraway look.
I vibrate with barely restrained fury and tug her away from Atlas, my hand firm on her cheek as my thumb tilts her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “I’ll take you job hunting in the morning. If you want to be a stripper, you can be a damn stripper; fuck what these guys say. Come on.” I kiss her harshly and storm out the door with her hand firmly gripped in mine, letting Lucien sort out the paperwork while Atlas chases after us.
When Lucien gets into the driver’s seat and turns around to start lecturing us, I cut him off before he can gain any traction. “Her boss fired her, then spewed a bunch of bullshit about how she was better off whoring herself out than working.”
Luce’s eyes turn as cold as they did the day we found Maddox’s killer. “So it’s his blood all over her, not hers?” he confirms and I nod.
“Good,” Atlas spits. “Better off not working for that asshole anyway.”
I kick his seat, hoping he gets the hint to stop before he makes anything worse today.
“It’s fine,” she placates, leaning against the car door and gazing out the window. “We’re starting a new chapter in all of our lives anyway. New brands, new family, new apartment...might as well add a new job to the mix. Heck, I can change my name and pretend I’m in witness protection; we’ll just fake my death and start over.”
“Hey,” I start, stealing her hand and rubbing my thumb over the raised scars. It works a bit, the hostility she’s cloaking herself in like armor slipping away slightly. “It’s going to be alright.”
She pins me with a look, but doesn’t pull away. “You say that a lot.”
I shrug. “Because I mean it. Things suck, yeah, but nothing is forever. Just look at this as a stepping stone on your way to bigger and better things.”
She deflates, but it isn’t like before, when the fight left her and she was dying inside. This is weary acceptance.
“Let’s just go home?” she asks, and fuck does it feel good hearing that from her lips.
Bringing her hand up to my lips, I gently kiss the back of her hand, right on top of my mark that I shouldn’t love as much as I do. “Sounds good to me.”
***
“I’m surprised. You haven’t been this trigger happy for years,” Luce comments from where we’re sipping drinks in the back yard so we can actually hear each other over the music.
I figured it’d be the fastest way to get Cambria out of her own head before she spiraled, so as soon as we got back to Lucien’s house, I hijacked his surround sound. Atlas is still with her, nearly as drunk as she is. The heavy bass rattles the walls and the muffled music can still be heard, but we’re able to carry on a conversation easily out here.
“Fuck, Luce. He looked at her like she wasn’t worth anything, and after the way she grew up-“ He cuts me off.
“You don’t need to defend yourself, Dorian, I get it. If it was me or Atlas, we would’ve done the same thing.” He brings his scotch to his lips and sips slowly.
For as refined as Luce is, I wasn’t lying when I told Cambria I’d once been scared of the man. He practically tore his brother’s murderer apart with his bare hands, and there was just...nothing in his eyes. No fury, no wrath. He was cold, detached, and ruthless. In that moment, there was nothing resembling the man that took me in and cared for me, no one to reason with or beg for mercy. He was as devoid of life as the corpse he left at his feet.
Besides myself and Atlas, he’s kept himself emotionally distant from everyone. The fact that he now considers Cambria one of the people he needs to care for, to protect?
Woe be any man that touches her now.
“I’ve already contacted the company’s lawyer, so it’ll be handled,” he says, dismissing the whole situation whereas if Cambria hadn’t been involved, he would have reamed me for the next several weeks.
“What do we do about that guard when we go back?”
Luce slowly taps a finger against his glass as he contemplates a solution before slamming back the rest of his drink in frustration. “Why wouldn’t he have reported her and dragged her in after it happened? What’s he playing at?”
I sigh, finishing my drink and leaning on the patio railing. “She threw out there he might try to make her life hell and punish her himself. The guy is definitely a sick fuck that gets off on that sort of thing, so I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility.”
Luce grunts. “How are we supposed to help her over there? Anything we do reflects on her and she could get punished for it, let alone the ridiculous abilities they have as an advantage.”
Strumming my fingers on the wood, I risk a swift glance to make sure the glass door is still shut. I look up at Lucien, warring with myself if I should say anything or not before rushing out.
“She can transfer abilities. If she were in danger, she could pull from them and drop ‘em, but she could also loan them to us.”
His eyes cut to mine. “But we’re human. Would a transfer even work if it wasn’t with another fae?” The fact that he’s discussing the idea openly without cringing isn’t lost on me, noting how far he’s come in accepting things.
“Since it would just be for short stints and not permanent, I would imagine so. Besides.” I hold up the back of my hand to show him the brand the fae guards burned into my skin. “These link us to her. That means there is some trace of fae magic in us now, otherwise it wouldn’t be able to read our intent and tether us to her. It may not be a lot, but it’s enough to suggest it’s possible.”
He turns to lean his hip against the railing, looking through the sliding door and watching Cambria dance on his couch, smiling. Atlas wraps an arm around her waist and drags her off, laughing, as the two of them dance like they could care less who’s watching.
“She’d never agree to it,” Lucien dismisses. “And bringing it up might induce another panic attack. Whatever they did to that girl, the scars run deep.”
“I agree, but just food for thought. If things were ever bad enough, something to consider over being killed.”
Luce dips his head in acknowledgment, but doesn’t say anything else as we head back into the house. He turns the volume down to a less ear-shattering level and eventually she tires herself out, stretching out on the couch with her head in Atlas’ lap this time. I don’t drink nearly as much, since I need to work in the morning, but it’s Atlas’ day off so he’s embracing the fun.
“How dare the asshole not think I’m amazing?” she rants. “I’m a goddamn delight!”
I love the fact that she’s cycled back to where she’s at, but hate the fact she had to resort to praising herself just to hear it in her cruel life. “You certainly are,” I agree with a smirk.
“Sorry about the mess, Luce,” she backpedals, contrite. “I’ll clean up in the morning.”
“You know,” he starts slowly, “I had to fire my last housekeeper, so I was looking to hire a new one soon. I just never have time with as much
as I work, let alone now.” He leaves it open ended, seeing if she’ll bite without getting upset and lashing out, yet not outright offering so he has plausible deniability.
She narrows her eyes at him, seeing exactly what he’s doing despite her inebriated state. “How much are you paying?”
Luce sips his drink to hide his sly smile. “I might be willing to negotiate. What do you think the position is worth?”
She taps her chin. “Depends what level of service you want. Basic cleaning and picking up, deep cleaning until even the walls shine, or the platinum package.”
“What’s the platinum package?”
She winks at me before schooling her face and rolling onto her stomach, crossing her arms on Atlas’ lap to look at Luce easier. “All the services of the deep package, but I’ll do it in racy outfits.” She waggles her eyebrows, catching him off guard. He rewards her with a kind smile, surprising even me.
“Platinum, go for platinum!” Atlas encourages, smoothing his hand up and down her back while she stares down Luce.
Lucien dons his business face. “And that would cost?”
She licks her lips. “Room and board, food, and three hundred per week.”
Just how little was she making at the club?
“Deal,” Lucien agrees without hesitation.
Cambria smiles flirtatiously before stretching out her hand. “I’ll need an advance so I can go shopping for work uniforms.”
Luce finishes off his drink. “Atlas can take you in the morning since he’s off tomorrow.” He pulls out his wallet, withdraws five hundred dollars, and I nearly fall out of my chair as he passes it over to her.
This is the man that will refuse to turn on the air conditioning in the summer because he’d rather suffer and save the money. The man that goes over his credit card statements and bank account transactions with a fine toothed comb.
Goddamn enchantress is what she is.
She stuffs the money into the back of her jean shorts with a grin, laying her head back down on her crossed arms. Atlas’ hand still traces a slow path up and down her spine and she arches into him like a kitten, closing her eyes.
“We better get some sleep, it’s late,” Atlas points out with a yawn, leaning his head back on the couch.
I set my drink on the coffee table and offer Cambria a hand, but she’s already half asleep. “Come on,” I chuckle, scooping her up and freeing Atlas.
She groans and curls into my chest as I carry her to her room and lay her in bed, scooting the trash can closer just in case. I’ve heard plenty of stories of fairies overindulging in fae wine, but I have no clue if those are just fables. I’m not sure how different our actual biology is, if she heals quicker than a human, or can even get hangovers.
I turn to leave, but her words make me pause in the doorway.
“Please don’t,” she whimpers, turning her face into her pillow.
My fingers clench around the doorframe so tightly it risks splintering. “Cambria?”
But she says nothing else, pulled into a drunken sleep and lost to the world. I stay there for several more minutes, just to make sure, and each second that ticks by without answers my mind is left filling in any number of scenarios. Each is more terrible than the last, leaving me agitated beyond belief. I keep the door to her room open, throwing myself back onto the couch in the living room with a growl and slam back the rest of my drink.
“You were gone for two seconds, what the hell could have put you in that bad of a mood?” Atlas complains, stretched out on the opposite couch with his arm thrown over his eyes.
I fill them in and the room goes deadly silent. No matter the solid buzz that Atlas has going, my words seem to sober him up quickly. Lucien sets his glass down on the table forcefully, threatening to break the glass.
“You don’t think?” Atlas trails off in concern, unable to say the words.
I share a stoic look with them both. When I meet Lucien’s stormy gaze, I see that same darkness from all those years ago, lurking just beneath the surface.
“I sincerely hope not,” he states icily, rising to his feet and leaving the room, slamming his bedroom door behind him.
There’s no point going back to my room, because I already know I’m barely going to be able to sleep. I’d rather stay close enough to hear if her nightmares threaten to overwhelm her. She’s gone far too long battling the monsters alone. But now she has us, and I’ll be damned if she has to fight them on her own anymore.
Chapter 12
Atlas
“Fuck,” I draw the word out, groaning.
I haven’t seen a single thing on her, but I’ve glimpsed what she’s been throwing in the cart. If they look even half as good on her as I imagine, I have no idea how Luce expects her to get a single thing done in that house.
We’ll be too busy leaving white stains on his expensive leather couches.
She tosses another thing in the cart after weighing her options before calling it good. “That should be just under our limit,” she declares happily.
She has an unnatural knack for estimating exactly how much she’s spending, a skill she’s honed through years of having to count every penny I’m sure. The sales clerk begins to ring things up, frequently tossing glances between us. And Cambria, I’m coming to learn, just loves fucking with people.
“You’re the best brother ever, taking me shopping!” she chirps, and the woman behind the counter blanches.
I glare at her, but she just beams. “I am not your brother,” I point out emphatically.
She waves her hand dismissively, grabbing a massive box of condoms and setting them up with her purchases. “Step brother, sorry. I forgot how touchy you were about that. It was still so sweet of you to help me try stuff on.”
The cashier’s eyes widen, flitting to me briefly in horror as I roll my eyes. “No wonder everyone wants to punish you.”
I bite my tongue as soon as I say it, but there’s no calling back the words.
“It’s not my fault I like it,” she shrugs shamelessly, counting out the money for the poor cashier that looks about ready to keel over.
I snatch up her bags and storm out of the store while she collects her change, skipping over to catch up with me. We leave the store and I toss it all in the trunk before getting into the car, turning to glare at her. She just grins, taunting and daring me to do something about it.
“You’re infuriating, Cambria Lark.”
She bats her eyelashes. “One of my more admirable traits, Atlas Whateveryournameis.”
I scoff, but there isn’t any heat behind the gesture. I’m just glad to see her back to her normal, infuriating self after the emotional hell the last few days have been.
“Donovan. It’s Atlas Donovan.”
She stretches her hand out across the seat. “Well, Atlas Donovan, I feel like the worst guardian ever for not thinking to ask before now. Thanks for driving me around today.”
I smile. “No free rides, little fae, so let’s get you home to earn your keep.”
***
“Are you trying to kill me? Seriously, it’s a legitimate question.”
There are a million things I probably should be doing, but instead I’m leaning against the doorframe of Dorian’s bedroom watching Cambria with the world’s most painful hard on. She went full stereotype, decked out in a French maid outfit that does nothing to hide the white lace hugging her ass when she bends over. So what does the girl do? She crawls on the bed to finish changing the sheets, giving me a prime fucking view on purpose.
She tosses her vibrant hair over her shoulder with a smile that finally reaches her eyes. “Yeah, a little bit. Sue me; it’s fun to see you guys get worked up. Besides, Atlas, no one is making you follow me around while I clean. I’m just a fae doing her job.”
Motherfuckin’ spank bank is stocked for a year.
“Be honest, it’s punishment for the waitress thing, isn’t it?” I tease. “No need to be jealous.”
She rolls onto her
stomach on the freshly made bed, resting her head on her hands and shifting her legs in the air. “No, I just didn’t want to have to deal with strange women getting all territorial over a one night stand.”
I just smile. “You were jealous.”
She flips me off as she gets to her feet. “Was not. If anything, I have more of a claim to you three than anyone else; I don’t need to be insecure. But you guys were nice enough to agree not to bone anyone in my apartment so I figured I could return the same courtesy. If I’m not going to get laid, I might as well at least have some fun.”
She brushes past me on her way out of the room, moving on to finish the dishes. As she washes, I come over with a rag to dry and we fall into a comfortable routine.
“I’m not sharing my pay,” she warns. “If you want to clean, that’s on you.”
I take the next plate with a snort and towel it off. “Noted. But can I ask you something?”
She uses a soapy hand to gesture for me to continue, but I still hesitate, worried about probing into things that aren’t any of my business. She just started acting like herself again and I don’t want to undo that, but we also need to not have secrets between all of us. Not only if we want to pursue some type of relationship, but even if we don’t. We’ll be living together in some fashion for the rest of our lives no matter what dynamic that turns out to be in, and there’s nothing that destroys a relationship of any fashion faster than secrets.
“Where does all your money go?” Her hand stills, but she doesn’t look at me. “I know you probably weren’t making much at the club, but even after all of your bills, you should have been able to at least afford a box of crackers, yet you had no food at home. Are you just saving it for a rainy day and would rather go without for a while or something?”
She sighs, going back to scrubbing. “You’re going to make it a thing.”
I turn and lean my hip against the counter, crossing my arms and instantly defensive. Nobody starts a conversation like that unless it’s about to piss someone off.
“Sometimes it’s just easier to pay off Rickon to get him to leave me alone,” she mumbles, refusing to look at me.