Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment)

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Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) Page 18

by Airicka Phoenix


  Gideon smacked Reggie on the arm. “I love that movie.”

  No one paid him any attention.

  “They won’t follow you home,” Liam said soothingly. “That’s why Octavian walks you every night. His scent is a warning that you are under our protection.”

  “Also the demons we grant access to are forbidden from harming humans,” Kyaerin added. “They must swear a blood oath before they are allowed through. Those that possess and kill humans are the ones humans conjure into this world. The ones that we can’t control.”

  At least that was some reassurance. Nevertheless, it simplified nothing. “All I wanted was a job,” Riley moaned. “How did this happen?”

  “You still have your job if you want it,” Kyaerin murmured. “We don’t want to lose you, Riley.”

  Riley swallowed hard. “I’m still not fully convinced I haven’t lost my damn mind. Can I have a few days to think this over?”

  Octavian nodded slowly. “Take as long as you need.” He got to his feet. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Just like that.

  Riley rose, glancing over to the table a short distance away. No one tried to stop her as she crossed the room after Octavian. She paused at the door and turned back. They were still watching her. Not sure what to say, she slipped out into the frigid air. Octavian let the door close behind her.

  “You’re going to just let me go?” She knew it was a stupid question to ask when there was still a chance he could change his mind.

  “You’re not my prisoner, Riley.” They reached her car. He turned to face her. “I want you to come back, but only if you want to. I know I’m being selfish. I know I should tell you to leave and never look back, but… I need you.”

  “For what?”

  He offered her a small, desolate smile. “For me. I need you for me.”

  She looked down. “There’s a chance I might not come back. This whole thing is insane? I’m not equipped to handle this much cray-cray.”

  He nodded. “I do.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best that you don’t. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you because I couldn’t let you go.”

  “So you don’t hate me?”

  She glanced up as he reached around her and yanked open her door. His gray eyes greedily raked over her face, again and again, tracing it like he couldn’t seem to stop, like he wanted to memorize every inch of it in case he never saw it again.

  “Never.”

  Riley felt a knot in her gut, felt it tighten as she took a step back from him. Her heart hammered, hurting with every slam against her ribs. She bit her lip, drawing back the tears with pain. It worked for a second before she looked into his eyes and felt her own well up.

  No, no, no, no! You can’t break down now. You need to leave. You’re doing the right thing. But it felt horribly wrong. It felt like she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

  “Goodbye, Octavian.”

  He inclined his head, eyes never leaving hers. “Goodbye, Green-eyes.”

  She threw herself into the seat, slammed the door behind her before she could second guess what she was doing, before she could throw herself at him and beg him not to let her leave. Instead, she pushed the car into drive and didn’t stop, didn’t look back, not once until she was home and only then did she let her walls crumble.

  Chapter 15

  The alarm clock read a little after three when Riley bolted awake, her right arm burning. The fingers on her left hand were slick and sticky when she reached for the chain on the lamp. Dim light spilled through the room, illuminating the smear of red staining her fingers and packed under her nails.

  With a gasp, she leapt out of bed and hurried to the washroom. She left a sweep of blood across the wall as she fumbled for the light switch. She took no notice, too busy washing the gashes on her right arm where she’d torn the band aids off — again — in her sleep.

  “Why is this happening?” she whimpered, tears curtaining the swirl of red rinsing down the sink.

  The irritation was always in the same place, a round area just beneath the inside of her elbow. The skin around it was inflamed, the veins a startling blue against the white and red. Long claw marks ran haphazardly around where the skin had been peeled away by her nails.

  Not for the first time, she rolled up the sleeve on her left arm, searching the skin for signs of infection, but there was nothing. She checked her legs, her back and stomach, but her right arm was the only place infected.

  Without a choice, she went to the doctors the next morning. The doctor, a tall man with an enormous belly, round head and lizard eyes, told her she had eczema. He gave her a prescription for cream and sent her on her way.

  The next night, she woke up to find her sheets soaked in blood. A steady river was oozing from the deep gash she’d given herself in her sleep. She cleaned it up, crying softly the whole time, and stayed awake for the rest of the night. There was nothing else for it. She only scratched in her sleep, so it stood to reason that if she didn’t sleep, she wouldn’t scratch.

  “You look exhausted,” her father pointed out on the fifth morning.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered, her hand shaking only slightly while she poured coffee into the biggest mug they owned.

  “I haven’t seen you go into work in the last few days. Everything all right?” This was all said around the cigarette he was trying to lit with the gold Zippo he’d gone ahead and bought with the money in her purse — without even asking her.

  “Fine.”

  He blew a plume of smoke into the already heavy overcast clinging to the ceiling. “You know you can talk to me if—”

  “I’m fine.” She moved across the matchbox-sized living room to the veranda doors. She shoved them open even though snowflakes were falling from the heavens. “You said you’d smoke outside.”

  He shrugged, turning in his seat. “It’s too cold.”

  “Well, I don’t want to die just because you can’t take your disgusting habit out the door!” she shot back, slamming her untouched coffee on the coffee table. Black liquid sloshed, spilling over the rim. “I mean, it’s the least you could do around here.”

  He jerked the cigarette from between his lips and glowered at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you have absolutely nothing to be stressed about, thus have no fucking reason to smoke. If anything, it’s just another excuse to waste the money that I have to make.”

  His brown eyes went round against his unshaven face. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Fueled by years of resentment, Riley charged back to the kitchen and dominated the threshold with her hands on either side of the frame. “What’s gotten into me is that I’m sick and tired of you being lazy. You sit around all day watching TV and doing crossword puzzles while I have to make all the adult decisions, like dropping out of college after only a year to support you like I’ve been supporting you since I was five. I am sick and tired of being in charge all the time. I’m sick of being stuck in this apartment with you every day, wasting away my only chance at childhood because my man-child of a father is too goddamn lazy to get his shit together. I’m only nineteen for God’s sakes. I should be out with my friends, going on dates and making stupid mistakes, instead, I have to work so you can sit on your ass. It’s no wonder Mom left you!”

  A slow throb drummed at her left temple, steadily becoming a full-on pounding as it fractured like a crack in a mirror through her numb brain. She pressed the heels of her hands into the back of her eyelids until the world blurred red and sparks flashed. The wound on her arm burned until it was all she could do to keep from ripping the band aid off and scratching the hell out of it. She wanted to grab a knife and cut the skin out or just saw her arm off. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Riley…?”

  Ignoring him, she snatched up her purse and coat and bolted from the apartment. Her feet barely touched the floor as she tore down the sidewalk in no particular direction. She
ran until her legs gave out and her lungs shuddered. She dropped down on the side of the road on her hands and knees and wheezed, choking on her sobs as she fought not to throw up.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Panting, Riley raised her head, shocked to find anyone else on that stretch of road. But there was a girl there, just a few feet away, watching her with concern in her bright, gray eyes. She edged closer, her head cocked to one side.

  “Hello?”

  Riley wiped the snot and tears away with the back of her sleeve. “I’m sorry.”

  The girl laughed. “For what?”

  Riley didn’t have an answer.

  The girl moved in closer and knelt in front of her. She reached into the enormous beige purse slung over her shoulder and produced a small packet of Kleenex. She fished one out and passed it to Riley. Riley took it with murmured thanks and blew her nose and wiped her tears.

  “I’m Daphne Caldwel,” the girl said. “I live just up the road. I was out for a walk when I saw you fall.” She delved into her bag once more, rummaging around for a moment before returning with a bottle of water and a small bottle of aspirin. “You look like you could use these.”

  Riley took them without comment. She swallowed two with a mouthful of water. She used the rest of the water to rinse her mouth and ease the burn in her chest.

  “So what are you running from?”

  Still breathing hard, Riley stared at the girl. “What makes you think—?”

  “Because I’ve never seen anyone run the way you were so either you’re a competitive runner trying out for the Olympics or…” She grinned a little like they were sharing a joke. “The devil is after you.”

  “The latter.” Riley muttered. “I’m Riley Masters.”

  “Interesting.”

  “What is?”

  Daphne shrugged. “You don’t look like a Riley.”

  Without thinking, Riley looked down at herself. “I don’t?”

  “No.” Daphne cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as she took Riley in. “You look like a… Susanne or a Mandy. If I squint really hard, maybe a Betty.”

  Riley blinked. “A… Betty?”

  Daphne wrinkled her nose. “Only if I squint really, really hard.”

  “Stop squinting.”

  Daphne’s gray eyes opened to their original size once more and she grinned. “So, Riley, are you going to sit in the dirt all day?”

  “I’m considering it.”

  Daphne hopped nimbly to her feet. “Well.” She rummaged through her massive purse and, to Riley’s fascination, drew out an oven timer. She checked it once before stuffing it back into the bag. “As fun as that sounds, I have cookies in the oven if you’re interested.”

  Riley tipped her head back to peer up at the girl. “I could be a serial killer.”

  The girl seemed to think about this for all of two seconds. “Yes, and I could be the tooth fairy.” She spun daintily on her heels. “Coming? Chocolate chips wait for no man… or woman.”

  The girl was barely five feet tall with a head full of fuzzy, orange hair and a face full of freckles that even Riley couldn’t compete with. She looked like a little kid in her jeans and flannel shirt. But after meeting the Maxwells, Riley didn’t trust anyone.

  “You’re not like some supernatural being are you?” she called after the girl.

  Daphne twirled around on the heels of her suede boots to face Riley. She continued walking backwards, grinning. “If I was, I don’t think I would be allowed to tell you.” Her braid swung around her shoulder as she whipped back around to face forward.

  Riley waited a full second longer before getting to her feet and following, not really sure why, but not wanting to go home and having nowhere else to go. Plus, she was actually curious about this Daphne girl.

  Daphne lived in a small, split level home encased entirely by trees and giant bushes. A gorgeous bed of flowers grew in the front and climbed up the walls like 3D wallpaper. Five steps led to the screen door and another two steps inside led to a spacious and tidy sitting area. The sweet scent of melted chocolate hung thick in the air. It coated everything in sight and left a trail to the back of the house where the kitchen was.

  Daphne left Riley to follow as she darted to the oven and snatched up the oven mitts off the counter. Humming, she pulled out two trays of freshly baked cookies and switched them for the two pans sitting on the stove.

  She exhaled, wiping the back of her gloved hand over her brow. “I’m nearly finished.”

  “What are all those for?” Riley asked, glancing at the row upon row of cookies cluttering every available space.

  “Oh just ‘cause,” Daphne replied with a shrug. “I’ve got four brothers and this’ll all be gone by the end of the day. Sit.” She motioned to the chairs tucked beneath a small, square table tucked away in the corner.

  Riley shuffled over and sat.

  Daphne brought her a tall glass of milk and told her to help herself to the cookies on the pans taking over the table. Riley took one. She bit into it carefully and moaned as the morsel practically dissolved in her mouth.

  “Oh my God!” She took a bigger bite. “This is the most amazing thing I have ever tasted!”

  Daphne giggled. “Thank you. It’s my own personal recipe.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “The secret is—”

  “Hey, twerp, where are you?” a billowing male voice shouted from the front of the house.

  “Kitchen!” Daphne called back.

  A minute later, four enormous boys charged in, each one bigger than the last and looking dirty as all Hell as they tossed a football between them. Their clothes were caked in mud that dripped from their hair and smeared over their faces. They stomped into the kitchen, leaving a fresh trail of mud behind them.

  “Smells great,” one said, sniffing the air.

  “No cookies until you’ve showered,” Daphne said, smacking his hand when he made to reach for a cookie.

  He winced, cradling his injured arm to his chest. “Just one?”

  “No! Shower.”

  Grumbling, they stalked out the same way they’d stocked in.

  Daphne shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with them.”

  “So it’s just the five of you?” Riley asked. “Where’s your parents?”

  Daphne’s bright smile diminished as she turned away. “They passed away. Car accident.”

  Riley grimaced at her own tactlessness. “I’m sorry.”

  Daphne shook her head, transferring cookies from a pan onto a cooling rack. “It’s all right. It was ages ago. I was a baby so I don’t even remember them. My brothers raised me.”

  “They seem nice,” she said, trying to change gears on the subject.

  “They are! They’re great. I got really lucky.”

  “It’s just me and my dad,” Riley said. “My mom left us when I was five. I haven’t seen her since.”

  Daphne turned to her, her blue eyes glinting with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

  Riley shrugged. “No big deal.”

  They lapsed into silence as Daphne went back to work moving cookies from pan to cooling rack and from cooling rack to plastic containers.

  “Can I help?” Riley asked, getting to her feet.

  Daphne looked momentarily surprised by the request, but smiled brightly. “Yeah! That would be awesome. Thanks.” She gave Riley a spatula. “Just take them off the pan and put them on the racks.

  It was a mindless task, one Riley welcomed wholeheartedly. In the time that passed, Daphne’s brothers returned, freshly showered and looking more human and less mud monsters. They greeted Riley with surprise.

  “This is my friend, Riley,” Daphne introduced, never faltering in calling Riley her friend. Riley didn’t know what to say. She’d never had a friend before. “Riley, my brothers, Doug, Derek, Dallas and Daniel.” She grinned. “Our parents really liked the letter D.”

  Smiling, Riley replied, “Yeah, I can see that.” To the boys, she said, “Nice
to meet you.”

  The boys looked remarkably alike, except for their heights and build. Each had dull, bronze hair and eyes in various shades of blue or gray. But what set them apart was their height and build. Daniel, the eldest brushed nearly seven feet tall and was built like a house. Dallas and Derek were an inch apart in height, but Dallas was on the heftier side with a snoutish nose and squinty eyes. Derek the looks, in her opinion, good looking in a boy next door sort of way while Doug, the youngest brother still possessed the chubby baby fat around the cheeks and belly. He was also the one that easily sulked or complained like he was the baby and not Daphne. But not one of them seemed annoyed by Riley’s appearance into their home. If anything, they treated her like she’d always been there. It made it easy to see where Daphne got it from. They were all just so laid back.

 

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