Uprising (Alternate Earth Series, Book 2)

by S. J. West

  I look around the room and see two racks filled with at least twenty outfits. Not all of them are made out of one color of leather. I assume that’s because it’s hard to find a large quantity of the same leather in this world, but JoJo has patched the different colored pieces together in a way to make them still look stylish.

  “I would hardly call any of you slackers,” I comment, nodding to the clothing. “It looks like you’ve all been busy doing this, plus your other duties.”

  “We are doing our best, mon cherie,” JoJo assures me. I notice a soft rosiness to JoJo’s cheeks, and her dark hair looks a little glossier and bouncy for some reason. It makes me even more self-conscious about my own appearance…and smell.

  “Sorry,” I tell them, tugging on the white t-shirt I’m wearing. “I should have taken a shower before we came up here.”

  “Nonsense,” JoJo says, waving a hand in my direction to assure me she isn’t offended by my messy appearance. “I was the one who asked Mason to bring you here as quickly as possible.”

  “Though you wouldn’t tell me why…” Mason points out, gently hinting that he too wants to know what JoJo has to say.

  “Don’t feel bad. She wouldn’t tell any of us either,” Zack adds.

  JoJo takes one of Gabe’s hands and says, “I didn’t want Jess to be the last one to find out that Gabe and I are expecting a little one just because she was out saving the world.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” I exclaim, hugging JoJo and then Gabe. “I needed to hear some good news for once. The two of you just made a bad day good again.”

  “Bad?” JoJo asks, looking worried. “What has happened, mon cherie?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing that you need to worry about. It doesn’t concern us. I’m just so happy for the two of you!”

  “Does this mean you’re finally going to make an honest man of our Gabe?” Chandler asks with a smile.

  “Oh, you Americans and your provincial views on love,” JoJo says with a wave of her hand, in Chandler’s direction. “We will marry when the time is right. I refuse to rush into such a thing just to satisfy other people’s expectations. Our hearts are one. That is all that matters. I do not need a little piece of paper to tell me he is the love of my life. God already knows we belong to one another.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Gabe replies, looking at JoJo the only way a man in love can, with his whole heart open to only her.

  “So are we the first people you’ve told?” I ask.

  “Non,” JoJo says with a small shake of her head, causing her loose curls to bounce against her shoulders. “We decided to tell Malcolm first because our little bundle of joy needs an ange gardien. He accepted, of course, because no one else would do for us.”

  I didn’t need to know French to understand that they asked Malcolm to be their child’s ‘guardian angel’. Considering the fact that Malcolm was most likely destined to outlive us all, I’m sure Gabe and JoJo knew he would also look after all of their descendants. I doubt they really needed to ask. Malcolm would have done it anyway. But it did give them the chance to thank him while they were still alive, which would mean a lot to Malcolm in the years to come.

  Before Mason phases us back to our room so I can freshen up, JoJo hands me a new leather outfit made from the same maroon leather as the one I’m wearing.

  “I thought you could use a fresh one, mon cherie,” she says. “Bring me back the dirty one you have, and I will have it cleaned for you.”

  “Thanks, JoJo,” I say, realizing that I have been living in my leather outfit for the past two weeks. It could most definitely use a good washing.

  “And I added in some decorative touches on this one, since I had some extra time,” she adds.

  “I swear JoJo, you’re better than a fairy godmother,” I tell her, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “And far more chic,” JoJo states as fact, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other in the air, palm up.

  “Absolutely,” I agree, finding it hard not to smile at JoJo’s infectious vitality.

  I tell my friends I’ll spend more time with them after I take my shower.

  Mason promptly phases us to our room and helps me undress.

  “Does this mean you’ll be joining me in the shower?” I ask hopefully. If there is one thing I enjoy doing with Mason, it’s showering. Nine times out of ten, it always leads to more than just getting clean.

  “I would love to,” Mason says, with a pleased grin spreading his lips at my suggestion, “but I don’t think I would be able to give you the attention you deserve right now. I’m too worried about Brand and what disfiguring Dillon will do to him. Would you be ok with me going down to speak with him in private while you’re getting cleaned up?”

  “Of course,” I say, empathizing with my husband’s need to give Brand his counsel. “I’ll just take my shower and go back up to the attic to see if I can help them out. Take your time discussing things with him.”

  “I love you,” Mason says, bringing me into his arms.

  “You’ll probably love me even more after I smell a little better,” I jest.

  “I love you no matter what aroma you’re wearing.”

  I have to laugh, because I know he’s delicately trying to tell me that I do, in fact, have an unpleasant odor surrounding me.

  “Go talk to Brand,” I tell him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, because I’m also acutely aware that I need to brush my teeth. “I promise to smell like roses the next time you see me.”

  As I walk away, Mason reaches out and slaps me playfully on my naked bottom.

  “What was that for?” I ask, looking at him over my shoulder.

  Mason shrugs, with a roguish grin on his face. “They’re just so round. They were practically begging to be spanked.”

  I turn around to face my husband with my arms folded in front of me.

  “And the next time a certain part of your anatomy is begging for some attention, do I have permission to slap it, too?” I ask.

  Mason’s grin grows broader. “Only if you promise to kiss it and make it better afterwards.”

  I raise an eyebrow at my husband. “I don’t see you kissing me and making it better.”

  Mason takes a purposeful step towards me, but I hold up my hands to stop him.

  “Later,” I tell him, unable to prevent a small laugh. “Let me bathe first. Then you can make it up to me.”

  Mason bows to me. “I am here to serve your needs, whatever they might be.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I say, turning back around to walk into the bathroom. “And you might regret saying it!”

  I hear Mason chuckle behind me and say, “Never.”

  I take a very, very long and hot shower. I have to scrub my skin and wash my hair three times just to feel clean again. Once I’m dressed, I go back up to the attic to spend some quality time with my friends. Zack makes me laugh by mercilessly picking on Chandler.

  “Dude, when are you going to find a good woman to settle down with?” Zack asks. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “I’ll settle down as soon as Jess finds me someone to get serious with,” Chandler responds in earnest.

  “When did it become my responsibility to find you a wife?” I ask as I watch Chandler carefully cut around a sleeve pattern.

  “Since the moment you decided to let me know exactly what you think about the women I’ve brought home to meet you so far,” Chandler answers. “You haven’t approved of any of them.”

  “I don’t remember saying anything bad about them,” I defend.

  Chandler stops what he’s doing to look me directly in the eyes. “As if you had to say anything out loud; I knew exactly what you were thinking by the look on your face.”

  “Look? What look?” I ask, not realizing that I had ‘looked’ any particular way at Chandler’s numerous girlfriends over the past few years.

  “Do you remember the Australian swimsuit model?” Chand
ler asks.

  “The airhead?” I snort in response.

  Chandler points at my face with the scissors still in his hands. “That look right there. See? You didn’t have to say you thought she was an airhead to her face. We could all tell that was exactly what you were thinking without you having to utter a word. Honestly, Jess, can you think of one woman I’ve brought over to meet you who you approved of?”

  “You don’t need my approval, Chandler. You can date whomever you want.”

  I hear Gabe start to laugh quietly over in the corner where he’s sitting on a stool, stitching a button onto a pair of pants.

  “What?” I ask him more curtly than I had intended. “Do you have something to add to the conversation, Mr. Kinlan?”

  Gabe looks up at me and smiles. “I just find it amusing that you think your opinion doesn’t matter, when yours is the one that matters the most.”

  “Why should it?” I ask, not understanding his reasoning.

  “Because, if you don’t like whoever Chandler marries, you won’t be able to hide it. Can you imagine how uncomfortable we would all be at family gatherings if you hated Chandler’s better half?”

  “Unbearable,” Zack chimes in, shivering slightly at just the thought.

  “I wouldn’t be that bad,” I say in my own defense, since it seems like no one else in the room will champion my honor.

  “Yeah, you would,” Zack and Chandler say, unintentionally in unison.

  I shrug. “So I’m not a good liar. I don’t think that’s a character flaw.”

  “Which is why I have decided you should find my next girlfriend,” Chandler declares. “Let’s see if you can do any better than I have.”

  I squint at Chandler. “Is that a challenge, rock star god?”

  “Yes, it is,” Chandler says candidly. “I want to know what kind of woman you think I should be with.”

  “Hmm,” I say, mulling this idea over in my mind. “I accept your challenge, Mr. Cane. Let me know when you’re ready to settle down.”

  “Settle down?” Chandler asks, looking puzzled. “Why?”

  “Because, if I find you a woman to date, I have a feeling you’ll end up marrying her and be permanently off the market. So, if you still feel like you have some wild oats to sow, get to it before I introduce you to your wife.”

  Chandler smiles. “I’m ready when you are, Jess. Living the life of a rock star isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having a steady relationship for once. You guys and my parents are all the family I have.”

  “And Horace,” I remind him.

  Chandler grins. “Yeah, Uncle Horace, too. Which reminds me…have they found his counterpart here yet?”

  I shake my head. “Not that I know of, but I need to ask about that. Though, finding him and King Solomon’s tomb is only half the battle. We still don’t know what we need to look for there.”

  “Jered and Tristan have been going to that cemetery in Lakewood for the past couple of weeks,” Gabe informs me. “They saw Tara once, but she didn’t leave anything at the gravesite to help us out. I guess she hasn’t learned anything new yet.”

  I sigh in disappointment. I was hoping we would be further along in discovering what Project T-7 was all about by now, but, with this news, it appears we aren’t any closer to uncovering what the princes are looking for.

  Mason phases into the attic, instantly finding me with his gaze. From the look on his face, I know I won’t like what he has to say.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, going to him.

  “Peyton has requested that we help in Dillon’s kidnapping,” Mason informs me.

  “I know that already,” I say before what he said completely sinks in. “Wait. Are you saying she wants you and me to help?”

  Mason nods his head.

  “Why?” I ask, not seeing the point.

  “We’re wanted by Ravan, which makes us the perfect candidates to lure Dillon away. Peyton knows that if Dillon sees us, she’ll do whatever it takes to bring us to her father like a prize.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say in exasperation.

  “I wish I were,” Mason replies, not liking the plan either.

  “I suppose they have a scheme set into place?”

  “Yes.”

  I hang my head, because it’s the last thing I want to do. Just when I was able to relax and share a little normalcy with my friends, this has to happen.

  “When?” I ask tersely, not mad at Mason, but mad at the ruse Peyton is forcing us to play a part in.

  “Tonight,” Mason answers. “Today is Dillon’s birthday. Peyton’s throwing her a party to celebrate.”

  “How are we supposed to go to a party unnoticed?”

  “Apparently, it’s a costume party,” Mason tells me. “Brand said he would find us some costumes that will conceal our identities.”

  “I don’t like this, Mason,” I say, my heart dropping at the thought of what we are about to put Dillon through. I may not know her, but I can empathize with what is about to be done to her. We are about to take away a fundamental part of who she is. It was comparable to someone pulling my arms or legs from their sockets, and I hated being used in such a manner.

  “None of us likes it,” Mason tells me, “but the alternative isn’t any better, Jess. We’ll just have to hope that this actually helps more than it hurts her in the long run.”

  I couldn’t see how it would help anyone’s soul, much less Dillon’s. But I had to place my faith in Brand’s decision. He knew this world and its Watchers better than I did. I just hoped he understood the consequences of what he was about to do.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It’s decided that Tristan will attend the party with us. Sophia still wants him to talk to Logan about leaving Robert and joining her. Originally, Tristan was going to speak with Sophia’s estranged daughter at a concert Dillon was going to give, but, after the opening of the fourth seal, that plan fell through. It was a sure thing that Logan would be attending her half-sister’s birthday bash. It was the perfect opportunity for Tristan to speak with her in person, and it would also help keep her distracted while Mason and I played our part in Dillon’s abduction.

  Just thinking about what we were about to do made me sick to my stomach, but I didn’t have a better alternative to the plan. I wish I did.

  When Brand gives us our costumes, I have to ask, “Where’s the rest of it?”

  “That’s all there is, I’m afraid,” Brand says, looking uncomfortable with his meager offerings.

  I look at the black leather bra and matching pants, which have four ragged slits across each thigh, like they were ripped open by claws. To hide my face, there is a small leather mask to wear over my eyes and a matching headband with two pointy cat ears. I hold up the cat o’nine tail whip and have to ask, “Are we going to a birthday party or an orgy?”

  “Good question,” Mason mutters, looking dubiously at his skimpy Batman costume. There’s even less to his costume than mine. All he has is a headpiece, which will cover his entire head except his eyes and lower half of his face, with an attached cape and a pair of stretchy black briefs with a black leather tool belt. There is a yellow Batman symbol embossed in the center of the belt buckle.

  “Trust me,” Brand says, “if you wear anything more you’ll stand out in the crowd that’ll be there. I promise you won’t have to be in these costumes for very long. Tristan striking up a conversation with Logan will be your cue to entice Dillon to the back of the house. Nina will be waiting out there to grab Dillon as soon as she walks out the door.”

  “And how exactly do you want us to lure her away from her own party?” I ask.

  “Just make sure she’s looking at you when you remove your mask, Jess,” Brand instructs.

  “And what’s to prevent her from involving some of her friends to help capture us?” I ask.

  “It’s not in her nature to ask for help,” Brand says confidently. “Dillon will want to keep all the credit
for your capture for herself. Her ego won’t allow her to share the glory.”

  “Will her father be there?” Mason asks.

  “No. Neither Will nor Robert should be in attendance. They’re not much for parties, much less ones for the younger crowd. And,” Brand says hesitantly, “I want you both to know that I did try to talk Peyton out of disfiguring Dillon, but she wouldn’t budge on the matter. Maybe I just wasn’t persuasive enough.”

  “At least you tried to talk some sense into her,” I tell Brand, noticing the deadness in his eyes with what he is going to have to do. “You’ve done all you can.”

  “Have I?” Brand asks, sounding doubtful. “I don’t feel like I have.”

  “Sometimes leaders have to make decisions that they don’t like,” I tell him, attempting to give him some peace of mind. “You’re doing the best you can with the information we have. Plus, I don’t think you would be able to live with yourself if you let Ava die after risking her life to help us. Lucifer may or may not be able to help the infected, but Ava’s life is definitely worth saving.”

  “I’ve sent Baruch and Isaiah to get Mia,” Brand tells us. “She should be here by the time we get back with her mother. Ava will want to know that her daughter is safe. I was concerned about what Lucian or the others might do to Mia once they learn Ava has escaped.”

  “Nothing good, would be my guess,” I say.

  “Which is why we’re being proactive with her safety,” Brand says. “I can’t live with the loss of another innocent life.”

  “You’re not killing Dillon,” I remind him.

  “I might as well be,” Brand replies, not allowing himself an easy out. “Anyway, the two of you should go ahead and get dressed. You’ll need to leave soon.”

  Brand turns and walks away, obviously not wanting to continue the discussion.

  Mason phases us to our room so we can change into our costumes. It doesn’t take us long, since there isn’t much to put on. I can’t help but gawk at my husband’s appearance after he’s dressed.