by Sariah Skye
Soon…soon Ava…I consoled myself in my mind. I grasped the stone, feeling its warmth permeate my body, soothing the magic inside. I closed my eyes as the storm rumbled on outside, and soon the darkness took me into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twenty
I pried my eyes open and was met by a blinding, white light.
“Ugh, not again…” I think, rolling over. I must have been in another Avalon dream. So much for the effectiveness of that stone.
Rubbing my eyes with my fists, finally able to open them all the way. I realize it’s not Avalon; I’m really awake, and it’s sunny as hell outside. The white curtains let it all stream in like a spotlight. “Well, at least the storm is over,” I say dryly, turning to prod Xander awake. Frowning, I realized he’s not there; only a bright red rose, sitting on a piece of cream-colored paper remains in his place. Grinning to myself, I reach over to take the flower in my hands, brushing the soft petals over my cheek, inhaling its fragrance deeply. It’s not an overpowering scent, like most roses. It’s airy, and somehow has a hint of rainwater smell mixed in with its perfumed fragrance. That was always the case with Xander’s flowers; I don’t know how he did it, but they were always more stunning than normal flowers. Bright green leaves, full blooms, and flawless petals—and no thorns. Either he trimmed them off each time, or they just didn’t grow. Weird.
Xander usually left a message for me every morning, or every time I emerged from the shower. I don’t know what compelled him to do it; any time I asked him why, he’d just grin and shrug it off. Sometimes the note was nothing more than a little sketch, sometimes it was the quote of a poem, or just a few sweet words.
Today, Xander opted for a little message. He had quirky, edgy print that somehow resembled the Chinese character on his shoulder. “Every night is better when you are here…signed, X.” I pressed the sweet declaration to my chest, and swooned. Actually swooned, falling back on my pillow, with a happy sigh and everything.
My fawning was interrupted by the loud noise of barking dogs, and the scent of one of Mathias’ breakfasts. Ah, reality. Not wanting to look totally like a bum, I slipped into the bathroom to splash my face with water, rubbing out some of the red splotches and sleep in my eyes. I smoothed out the tangles in my hair with my hands and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I still wore Xander’s T-shirt and the black booty shorts and looked like a hot mess. But not much I could do about it; all my clothes and makeup were in my bedroom. I wouldn’t make it all the way there anyway, I needed to do my business. But, it came with risk, this was the bathroom Trystan liked to bath use frequently.
Which means…
“Fucking Trystan!” I hollered angrily, noticing that the toilet seat had once again been left up. Grumbling loudly, I lifted my leg and crooked my big toe, hooking it against the edge of the seat, and letting it fall to the porcelain rim with a large thunk.
After I peed, and quickly washed my hands, I griped all the way down the hallway, stomping my feet when I entered the kitchen.
Mathias was standing before the stove, spatula in one hand, the other gripping an iron skillet over the burner. When I entered, smoke coming out of my ears, he quickly set the pan down, and turned off the heat. “Oh shit…I did it, didn’t I?”
“Did what?” I asked, blinking, confused.
“I used the restroom last,” he said, a shameful blush swiping over his cheeks.
“You?” I was too stunned to be angry. “But, you—”
Mathias shook his head from side to side, sighing. “I thought the eggs were burning so I ran. I’m sorry. You didn’t fall in, did you?” His face was so apologetic, like a wounded puppy, I couldn’t be mad.
“No, I didn’t; I saw it in time. Usually it’s Trystan to—”
“—Trystan is gone this morning. He and Xander had some…business to take care of,” Mathias said, brows raising at the word ‘business’, meaning it probably had little to do with business at all. “Speaking of business, I need to know for sure,” he said, resting the spatula carefully on the handle of the pan, and reached for his briefcase on one of the stools at the center island. Opening it, he took out a single page, and handed it to me, “if you want me to legally represent you in dealing with the Stargazer. It’s totally up to you, but I know you don’t want to deal with it, so I just want to make it easier on—”
I quickly snatched the paper from him. “Um, yes please! Do I just sign here somewhere?”
Mathias slid a pen across the countertop at me. “I marked towards the bottom where you need to sign.”
“What exactly is this? And how the hell do you have the authority to do this?” I set the official-looking form down on the countertop, scratching my forehead in bewilderment with one hand, and swiping the pen with the other. It appeared to be some sort of legal-schmeagle thing, but I didn’t understand any of it. I did notice Mathias’ choppy signature on the bottom left, and I smirked. “Mathias Romanello. I guess I never really thought about you guys having last names before.”
Mathias chuckled. “Ah well, I chose it years ago when I got into the business scene. Obviously just going by ‘Mathias’ in the human world doesn’t work. I really picked it so that Roman Rescue would make more sense, besides being just, you know…Roman.”
I quickly scrawled my name next to his and thrust it back towards him. “I suppose so. Still I don’t get how…”
Mathias just shrugged, swiping up the document in his hand and slipping it into his briefcase. “I’ve been around a long time. I’ve had to learn how to do everything, and even though I don’t always know what I’m doing, you’d be surprised just being a big, formidable man with a nasty glare how far you can get with people,” he said with a wink.
I could feel my lips spread into a sly smirk, as I apprised his broad shoulders and the sculpted lines of his body underneath his black T-shirt. “Oh, I can see it.”
Mathias rolled his eyes. “Well I’ll have Bash notarize this later.”
I smacked my palm against my cheek lightly. “Is there anything you guys can’t do?”
“Put the toilet seat down, apparently,” Mathias kidded, and I laughed. “You learn to depend on yourselves when you live as long as we do,” Mathias continued with a sigh.
“So, what should I do with the club?” I asked, my ears perking up as the coffee maker hissed, announced that a fresh pot of coffee was ready. “Get rid of it, hopefully?”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Mathias asked, as he continued his cooking.
“I’m not sure, really. I don’t want demons unleashed from the Underrealms…but I don’t really know if I want to deal with this.”
“There is really no hurry to decide; you can live off the profits for a while,” Mathias said.
“I’m surprised that shitty place made so much,” I said.
“Well, it didn’t. It was the Underground that did; a lot of rich supe clients, private events…” Mathias shrugged. “Not sure I want to know what private events went on there.”
“No, not really.” I feigned a yawn, suddenly eager for that coffee. I joined him in the kitchen, rummaging for a mug in the cabinet left of the stove. Scowling, I raised on my tip-toes to try to reach for one on the middle shelf. “Damn tall fuckers…”
With no effort, Mathias reached up and grabbed a mug for me. “If we put them any lower, then what do you need us for?” He smiled sweetly at me, blinking repeatedly, almost like he was batting his thick, black eyelashes.
I narrowed my eyes into slits and slapped at him. “I’m an independent woman, Spartacus. I’ll just scale the cabinets like Spiderwoman and pray I don’t fall. Think of what an ass you’ll feel like if I fall down, and break my leg? Huh?”
Mathias snorted, shaking his head. “Okay. I’ll move them lower for you.” He enveloped me in the span of one of his long arms, pulling me under his shoulder, and placed an affectionate kiss on my temple. “Just don’t tell Xander. He is very particular about where things go,” he said releasing me to p
late his breakfast; an egg white and veggie omelet. I didn’t care much for lots of veggies, or eggs, but Mathias’ were delicious, and they were quickly becoming a favorite. I grinned up at him. “Can I have one, please?”
He beamed. “This is yours. I’ve already eaten. Unfortunately, I have to run,” he said, with a low sigh. He pulled out a chair for me at the island and urged me to sit. I did, and he placed the steaming breakfast concoction in front of me. “I’m meeting Link at noon about the club.”
I inhaled the peppery scent of the food and smiled. I started to get up for a set of silverware, but Mathias was already ready, with a knife, fork, and spoon wrapped elegantly in a white napkin, which he set beside my plate. “You should have left a long time ago! Rush hour is going to be brutal!”
Mathias shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t mind sitting in bumper to bumper traffic. Gives me time to think. And besides, if I’m late—what is he going to do?” he said with a shrug.
“True.” I dug into the omelet, the eggs a velvety texture sensation on my tongue, mixed with the fresh veggies from the garden, and a hint of savory spice. “Seriously…these are so good. Why don’t you do this stuff instead of business crap for a living?”
Mathias set a glass of milk next to me, followed by a small plate of white buttered toast. “Eh, I prefer cooking for family now,” he said, nudging me gently. “You’re all much more appreciative than crabby restaurateurs.” He sat in the seat beside me, leaning over the counter, folding his arms one over the other. “Is it okay?”
“It’s amazing!” I praised, trying to not talk with my mouth full. “I don’t even like eggs. That’s how good this is.”
He grinned widely, the slight dimples in his cheeks reddening. “Glad to hear.”
“What are you doing at the club, then?” I asked between bites.
Mathias clapped his hands together. “Well we’re going to do a more thorough search of the club for any sign of the Underrealm opening. He said that he would burn the bodies of your mothers ‘sisters’ and dispose of them, and I want to make sure that was done. You don’t need any further reminder of…well…”
“No, I don’t. But…” The Excalibur amulet that Bash had enchanted with a potion sat underneath Xander’s t-shirt. I lifted it up by the chain and showed Mathias. “Bash made this for me. He said that this with the power of the Excalibur and whatever little potion thing he used on it should help suppress the Avalon magic, so I don’t lose control again,” I said wryly. “I can’t handle hurting you guys again.”
A pained expression spread over Mathias’ handsome face. He reached over and gently squeezed my forearm on the table. “Avie…really, a few bumps and bruises are worth being close to you.”
I shot him a look of tortured appreciation. “That’s nice. But, Mathias, love shouldn’t hurt. Ever.”
“Love?” He lifted his brows expectantly, a grin on his pouty lips.
“Love? Love!” I giggled uncomfortably, realizing what I just said. “I mean—um—you know, like, sexy things, and—” I quickly pushed the chair out, sliding down to the floor. “I—you know what I mean. Not love love but like—umm…” I stammered.
“No, what do you mean?” Mathias challenged with a huge grin.
“Oh, I need to shower and stuff! Where’s Sierra?”
“Don’t change the subject, Ava,” Mathias said with a smirk. “You said love.”
I laughed like a hyena. “I—mean… Oh fuck.” I grabbed my plate, not wanting to waste the delicious concoction. “Shame to waste this, huh?” I grinned awkwardly at him before grabbing my fork, darting off upstairs to my room, away from my embarrassment and Mathias’ taunting chuckle.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Love,” I said under my breath, still stuffing my face with omelet, kicking the door shut behind me with a flick of my foot. “That’s crazy,” I said to no one in particular. I leaned against the wall, plate balanced in my hand, scooping up the eggs quickly with my fork, stuffing my face so I could think about choking to death, instead of what I just said to Mathias.
Love. Feh. Like I would really even know what that was. “What is love?” I asked out loud, scoffing, thinking immediately of that old ‘90s song from when I was a kid, where the two dorks from Saturday Night Live bobbed their heads to the music in a club. I sighed. I guess Haddaway and I had the same question. I hummed the stupid, catchy song to myself as I sauntered aimlessly to my bed.
And who would I talk to about this? My mother? Ha. Summer? My dear Summer was in love with someone new every month, it seemed. I’m not sure she would be the best source. But, at least she wouldn’t balk at the idea of being in love with four guys. My father? I sighed deeply, setting the plate down carefully on the nightstand, and flopping myself back onto the bed. I could, but I didn’t think we were there yet.
He hadn’t even introduced me to his wife—partner, girlfriend, whatever. To me that said he was having issues accepting…well, I didn’t know. Something.
Suddenly, my breakfast—as wonderful as it tasted—was starting to feel heavy in my stomach, much like the thoughts anchoring my mind.
With a wistful glance at the plate on my nightstand, I decided to save it for Sierra or one of the pups, and shower for the day. What I planned on doing today? No idea. But if an indulgent shower didn’t fix the problem, at least temporarily, I was pretty much screwed.
I emerged from the shower about thirty minutes later; smelling and feeling much more refreshed. I brought my cell phone into the bathroom with me to listen to some Spotify while I freshened up, and glanced at the weather app before deciding what to wear; I was pleasantly surprised. The storm must have brought in a slight cool front, because we had highs in the 70s today, and much less humidity.
Tossing Xander’s t-shirt back on—which technically was dirty, but the fabric was soft and still smelled good. For now, I just slipped it on, not wanting to be totally naked in this house for too long just in case. Then I sauntered back into my bedroom, steam from the bathroom escaping into the room as I towel-dried my hair. “What the—” I said, shocked at the scene. I dropped the towel to the floor in surprise.
It wasn’t the two large white dogs licking at my breakfast plate; they’d somehow managed to knock it to the ground, and Sierra and Rocky were making a quick snack out of my forgotten meal. No, it was the massive flower bouquets that lay on my bed that surprised the shit out of me, along with a gauzy lavender sundress draped over the side, and cute, strappy tan sandals on the ground.
I lifted the dress up by the straps. It was a V-neck with a gentle plunge, and straps large enough to hide bra straps. A sheer layer of fabric, with lavender and deep purple flowers overlaid a thicker, darker purple cotton layer, that was gathered at the waist. It appeared to be about ankle length, with slits up to about the knees and flowed easily in the air. A furry body brushed against my bare calf. “Did you bring these?” I jokingly asked Sierra, but she ignored me, too content to be eating.
I set down the dress to admire the flowers. One was a thick bunch of bright yellow sunflowers, with a yellow ribbon around the stems, being clung to by a small, black teddy bear—with his arm in a makeshift, fabric sling. I chuckled thinking it resembled Sammy Hay-bear. Another bouquet was full of purple irises, with yellow centers, and a single white rose in the center, fastened with a purple ribbon. Another was a mishmash of wildflowers, local and otherwise, which was held together by a long vine of bright green ivy. The last was a bright bunch of white, orange, pink, and yellow lilies
A knock sounded behind me in the doorway. I quickly scrambled to sit, realizing that I was leaning over the bed, bare ass nearly on full display as I bent over. I yanked Xander’s shirt over my knees and grinned bashfully at Trystan. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms curled over one another on his chest. “Can ye figure out who gave each one?” He said, a mischievous glint in his green eyes.
“Oh…um…” I pointed at the irises. “Xander for sure; the purple gives it away. These,” I said, pla
cing my hand on the wildflowers, with a wink, “are probably from you. The other two are hard.”
Trystan bobbed his head, as if gesturing to one of the flower bunches. “The one with the bear is from Mathias. He said the bear is Sammy, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear the arm off him, so he made a sling for him instead,” he said with a loud chuckle.
I laughed. “What a softie, seriously!”
“Right? And of course, the other—Bash. All strategically picked and arranged; he rearranged it before we brought ‘em up here,” he said, with a roll of his eyes.
I blushed. “They’re pretty, but…why?”
“What about the dress? Does it seem like your taste?” Trystan asked, purposely avoiding my question.
I glanced at it again, before nodding. “Well, yes, but—”
Trystan took a step inside before halting. “May I?”
I waved him in, and he passed by the dogs, scratching them each on their backs absentmindedly before sitting at the foot of my bed.
“We realized that with everything going on, we hadn’t properly…what’s the word? Wooed you,” he said, a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
“Woo? Who says that anymore?” I kidded.
Trystan chuckled. “Whatever you want to say, you just fit in here so damn well, we didn’t think anything of it. You’re still a woman who needs to feel like she belongs; like she’s wanted. With everything going on, with your mother, the magic, and trying to get to know a long-lost father; we lost sight of that,” Trystan said. “We’re trying to fix that now.”