by LJ Swallow
I snap my head around. I was completely unaware Xander wasn't his full name.
"Correct," he replies.
"Okay. Three rooms." She sweeps a calculating look between the six of us. "You're in the coach house." The girl points in the direction of a small, single storey building separate to the main, but built with the same materials, surrounded by trees and lawn.
"Most of the larger groups are staying in the new conversions, such as the gate house and old stables. You can take a look at where your money will be spent as some of the rehab patients will be living there."
The woman drops a set of keys into Xander's hand, one set into Heath's, and one into Seth's. She looks between me and Seth with a smile. "Your room is the one at the end of the hallway. The welcome session starts in half an hour."
Our party strides along the stone path that leads from the main house to the coach house, the guys with their rucksacks and me wheeling a suitcase. This is the most bizarre weekend break I've ever taken.
Xander strides ahead with Joss and Ewan, and Heath hangs back with me and Seth. "Interesting that out of all of us, the girl thought you're with Seth."
I glance at Seth. "Why's that odd?"
"Do I really have to tell you? Look at him, then look at us."
I nudge him. "Such modesty. How about I go back and inform the woman he's the only one I'm not in a relationship with?"
Heath fixes his gaze on Seth. "As long as he doesn't think if he's in our group he can join us."
Seth grips his rucksack. "Sorry, Heath, you're not my type."
Heath's stunned look amuses me, and we watch as Seth hurries to keep up with the other three. I poke Heath. "Don't be rude to Seth. He already feels on the edge. If you upset him, he might leave."
"I doubt he will. Not now he knows what's really out there waiting for him."
A small courtyard leads to a red-painted front door and Xander leads the way inside. The words "rustic charm" come to mind as we step into a wood-panelled hallway and tiled floor.
Xander stands in one of the room's doorways, arms crossed, rucksack at his feet, with a deep frown on his face. Two other doors are open too.
"What's wrong?" asks Heath as he approaches.
"They're all fucking double beds."
Besides me, Seth chews the side of his hand. "I'll sleep on the floor."
"Correct," replies Xander. "If you're sharing with me."
"We already decided who was sharing with who," says Joss.
"How do you normally choose who Vee sleeps with?" Seth asks. "Or do you all share the same bed?"
Seth's question drops a heavy silence from a great height and knocks the conversation dead. "That's not really your business is it?" replies Ewan in a low voice.
"I'm just curious," he says and walks to an open door. "I'll leave my things in here."
What shocks me the most in this situation is that several weeks ago the suggestion I'd share a bed with two guys would fill me with horror. Now, it feels like it would be like sharing with family. Portia's comments about being between the brothers heated my cheeks, but in a way there'd be something different than the innuendo she filled the question with. They care. Despite the strange bond, the human emotions I fooled myself I could lose exist between us all. The guys love and would do anything to keep each other safe, and I'm now included in that.
I rub a finger across my lips as I look at the back of Xander's head. Even he showed me how he feels through his kiss the other day.
I remember the image in the book Joss showed me and again reject the idea. Apart from the logistics, the idea of time between squabbling siblings doesn't conjure up particularly sexy images.
"Vee?" asks Joss. "What are you smirking about?"
"Nothing." The smirk remains as I walk into the room. A window opposite looks across a nearby field and towards the Highland backdrop, a scene that trumps the countryside around Oxfordshire.
The beams in the low ceiling are painted white to match the walls and I'm relieved to see a radiator below the window, warming the room. I sit on the edge of the wrought iron bed. Isn't this a bit overkill for a rehab facility?
"I'll have this room, I like the view." I turn to the doorway.
Only Ewan and Xander remain.
Xander rubs his face. "Don't hang around, I want to get up to the main building as soon as possible and take a look."
I sigh. Back to operating at lightning speed.
16
VEE
Xander doesn't get his wish to snoop around because when we arrive at the main building people are funnelled towards a large room, ready for a talk from the guy we're dying to meet. I've never attended a business conference, and I'm unsure of etiquette. As we enter the old building, we're shown a low table beneath an old coat of arms where lanyards and foundation brochures are placed. The same girl as before stands by the table hands us small plastic bags as we approach.
Ewan peers inside as we walk towards the room we're shepherded to. "What is this shit?"
"Pens." Joss pulls one out then rummages around inside the bag. "Hey, Xan look."
Xander refused to take his bag, and when Joss throws a soft pink ball at his head, his face sours.
"Stress ball!" laughs Joss. "I think you should have this."
"Grow up," mutters Xander and passes him, leaving the item on the floor.
A young woman nearby laughs and bends to pick it up. "Looks like he might need this."
Her long red hair and freckles match her Scottish accent. "I'm Breanna." She holds a hand out to Joss. "Nice to meet you."
I wait for Joss's charming smile, but when he takes her hand, his eyes widen.
Crap. Demon? We've only been here an hour.
He returns Breanna’s greeting, and she nods at the rest of us as she passes by. She stands out and not because of her unusual hair colour, but due to the casual jeans and heavy blue jumper amongst the business-attired delegates.
"Joss?" asks Heath.
"I think she’s a demon. In fact I’m pretty sure she is, but I also think I know her." Confusion lines Joss's face as he stares after the woman.
"As long as she isn't a past hook-up," replies Heath.
"Didn’t you hear me?” he snaps. “Demon?”
“Whoa. Touchy.”
Joss chews on his lips as he watches her go. “She probably just has one of those faces."
"What faces?" asks Ewan.
"Just... familiar." Joss shakes himself out of his thoughts.
“Odd you’d come across a demon a second time,” Seth puts in. “I thought you killed them?”
A passing man, dressed in slacks and a shirt with a yellow jumper draped over his shoulder, double takes at Seth’s words.
“Shut up,” growls Ewan.
Xander strides off. "Yeah, come on."
I exchange a look with Joss. I detected something too, but not as strongly. Breanna would be aware that shaking hands with Joss means he’d be aware what she is. Why not disguise herself?
In the large room, we sit on a row of upholstered chairs and wait for Alasdair to take his place at the lectern set up at the front. This isn't what I expected, but what did I expect? Seth spends time rooting through his bag and examining the contents. I'm becoming used to his avoidance tactics, but also I wish he'd try to involve himself more. I know the guys are intimidating, but they need to forge more trust.
When Xander announced he'd share a room with Seth, I didn't miss Seth's horrified look. The reason why is obvious—Xander's obsessed with the guy and convinced he'll run. Does he still think Seth's involved in Casey's disappearance?
A man appears and stands at the lectern. He's middle-aged, hair peppered with grey, and his eyes a slate-blue colour to match his buttoned shirt. He holds the demeanour of someone who's used to attention, and his immaculate clothes would give Seth a run for his money.
The buzz of conversation stops as he greets everybody in a faded Scottish accent. "Good afternoon, and I'd like to welcome you all
to my humble home and thank you for joining me. I hope you'll learn enough about my projects to turn your generous donations into regular contributions."
He projects a warm and friendly smile across the room and elicits some laughter.
"Let me explain a little more about my recent project and plans for the estate. Some of you have already found the new accommodation, which I hope you'll find very comfortable. Some of the staff who’ll be working with the clients will take you for a short tour of the new facilities tomorrow and explain our program. We don't have any clients here yet, but I know there are representatives from hospitals and community services here. I hope you all find time to talk. We have some functions arranged, starting with tonight’s meet and greet, and I hope to chat with some of you there.”
The guys remain silent throughout the remainder of his speech, and I listen carefully. My lie detecting skills will be questioned by the four, especially since we already spotted one demon, and I pick up nothing but the truth. Seth makes notes on the back of the brochure we were given, whereas Heath leans forward elbows on knees, and hands beneath his chin listening as intently as me.
I sense Joss's continuing unease, as he holds the stress ball between his hands and digs his nails in. He scans the room after we sit, his gaze landing on the demon girl perched on a seat at the end in the front row.
Alasdair finishes his power point presentation with an announcement about tonight's cocktail party and another hope we'll all be able to network with each other. Some stop and chat outside as we leave the room, business professionals who could mutually benefit from networking.
Then there's us.
I hope nobody asks me what my job is; if they do, I'll ask my "partner" to explain.
Ewan stands, arms crossed as he watches the delegates pass from the room. He's attempted “casual business” clothing but can't pull the look off in the same way the others manage. Maybe it's his refusal to tame his unruly hair, or the tattoos poking out from under his black shirt. Mostly, it's his attitude—the guy looks like he wants to run rather than network.
The urge to kiss him, to take his hand and tell him not to stress pushes through, but I stop myself. We need another conversation, but each time I try, he changes the subject. Now we're sharing a room for two nights, the conversation won't be avoided much longer.
Behind me, Xander leans in to read the notice pinned to a tall metal stand, beside the black-clothed table containing the bags and business cards.
"The businesses attending are listed. Nova Pharm is one of them and a few others I recognise."
"Anybody's names?" asks Heath.
"No."
"Looks like we'll be attending the cocktail party," I reply. "Will you recognise anybody if they are connected to the Order or the fae?"
Xander steps back. "Some. Mostly we know names, not faces. If Breanna is a demon, I’m sure we’ll soon find more"
Ewan holds up his lanyard hung by a blue cord with the company name printed. "We can look at their names. I still have the lists on my laptop."
"Lots of mingling then." Ewan pulls a face at Joss's words.
A group pass by, chatting and oblivious as they walk along the maroon-carpeted hallway towards stairs with a wrought iron bannister, sweeping up into another part of the house.
"I'm not ending this evening without taking a bloody good look round this place," Xander says in a low voice. "That Alasdair guy has something to hide, however friendly and human he is."
"What are you expecting to find?" asks Seth.
"Answers," retorts Xander.
Delegate staff, wearing different coloured lanyards, mingle with the attendees stationed by the stairs and hallways. They're not security, but there's an air that they're keeping people out of other parts of the house. Understandable, there must be a lot of valuable items in here, but I share Xander's curiosity and hope more answers lie within these walls.
"I'm headed back to the room to change," says Ewan, pulling at his shirt collar.
"I don't think jeans and Converse are included in tonight's dress code," Joss replies. "Sorry, mate."
"For fuck's sake. Well, I'm going back to rest then."
"No idea why you insisted on riding your bike up here in this weather," says Heath. "Crazy."
Ignoring Heath, Ewan heads away, as if remaining in the building a moment longer might suffocate him as much as his shirt collar.
17
JOSS
I straighten my sleeves as I look back at my reflection.
Something isn't right.
I sense it, but there's nothing concrete.
I don't voice this to the guys, but Vee's picked up my uncertainty.
The red-haired woman, Breanna, I’m know she’s a demon, and she also lives somewhere in my brain's dark recesses, but where? We've come across many people over the years; of course I won't be able to remember every face, but I know her.
I study my face more closely. I don't look any different; I'm fully recovered inside and out, but the unease is back. Not the unsettling sensations from the parasitic demon, but a deeper one in the pit of my stomach. The guy looking back at me is Joss Smith, whoever he is. Of course we've researched our names to find any connection to real people—alive or dead—and found nothing. So Joss is me. Isn't he? My head and stomach lurch as I hear the man's voice and the sound of a gun firing, the same as in my vision when I died, as real as if he was in the room with me.
The man in the mirror pales and my heart rate speeds as other images from the dream, or whatever the hell it was, attempt to loop in again. I force them away and take a shuddering breath. This keeps happening. I've spoken to Vee and mentioned I had a vision to the guys, but I don't know how to explain to them the full situation. I know I have to, and I will, but the Collector spooked them enough, when he told us he’s met Horsemen before. I'll speak to Vee again and then sit down and talk. Maybe after a few beers.
Ready to face the evening, I walk into the hallway between the rooms in the coach house and rap on Vee and Ewan's door.
Vee answers and opens the door wide. "Just in time! Ewan disappeared and I need somebody to zip my dress."
"Yeah, he went with Heath to look around the outside of the estate."
Vee's hair shines, loose around her shoulders, and her subtle make-up accentuates her delicate features, the gloss on her lips shining invitingly.
"You look beautiful." I plant a kiss on her cheek.
Her eyes shine too. "Thank you."
Vee turns and walks into the room. She lifts her long brown hair to expose her neck and the unzipped dress. Vee's delicate floral fragrance fills the room, stronger as I walk closer. As I help, my fingers brush her skin and immediately feel the buzz from her thoughts. I lean forward to place my lips on the back of her neck, and she shivers.
"Thanks." Vee turns and smiles up at me. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine."
Vee places a hand on my cheek, and her lips against mine, the same lips as always but tasting of the pink lipstick she's wearing. "Have you told anybody else how you feel?"
"No. It’s okay. I think this is linked to what happened when I was attacked. It's made me jittery."
Her hair shines, and I resist the urge to hold her and bury my face into it. Why am I feeling vulnerable like this?
She smudges the lipstick from my lips with her thumb. "Only a half truth, Joss. You're not okay. What's happening?"
"I'm fine, just hoping you don't make any more of your odd requests to turn you into a monster."
Vee's face darkens. "Don't joke about it, Joss. You know I've backed away from that decision. Why say that now?"
I stroke her hair. "And we're happy you have. I'm happy you have. I care about you and don't want to lose you."
"And I think that's why. The love I have for you guys, and yours for me, stops me wanting to take that route."
I smile and stroke her soft cheek with my thumb. "Are you saying you love me?"
Vee’s eyes softe
n, and she nods. “Of course. You all know that.”
My whole chest warms at her words, as if she’s wrapped herself around my heart. “Good. Because I sure as hell love you, but I think you already knew that."
She tiptoes and kisses me, arms around my neck. "Yes. But, I need to tell you all. Focus on those emotions and build our unity. That's the only way we'll stay strong."
"But you're still fighting something, aren't you?"
She drops her gaze. "Yes. The desire to become powerful drives me sometimes, and I don't understand why, but how I feel about you all interferes."
"Well, whatever else is happening, I think the Vee in front of me is who you really are." I tip her chin. "I think you fought something and won."
She doesn't respond, sits on the bed, and slips on her shoes. Her dress's skirt rides up her legs, revealing her slim calves, and I'm overwhelmed with the sudden desire to push her back onto the bed and cover her body with mine. Screw the party.
"Where's Seth?" she asks, and I blink away the images.
"With Xander, of course. Lucky guy has a personal bodyguard."
"I don't think Seth sees it that way," she says with a laugh.
"Yeah, he doesn't want to come to this evening, but like the rest of us, he has no choice."
"But I like when my Pony Boys dress up in suits." Vee arches a brow. She stands again, matching my height in her heels, and straightens my tie. "I'll need to keep an eye on you all in case someone tries to steal you away from me."
"Yeah, right. As if that's gonna happen." I slap her backside. "And don't call us that. It reminds me of Portia."
Vee slaps mine in return and wanders over to the nightstand. She places her phone in a small handbag. "I'm surprised Portia didn't want to attend. She loves human attention."
"I suspect the real reason is she’s worried fae might be here. The Scottish fae court and hers aren't great friends."
"Aha. How many courts are there in the UK?"
"England, Wales, Scotland, and another in Ireland. As you can imagine the Irish is the strongest and with the most influence."