* * * *
By the time we reach the pool, it’s crammed full of shrieking, splashing children.
Brandi clings to my side as Ethan and Dylan hurl themselves into the deep end. “I can only swim in the shallow end. Okay?”
“Of course.”
She grips my hand tighter. “Don’t let go of me, okay?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Brandi and I make a game of sinking to the bottom of the pool, flapping our hands frantically to help keep us submerged, then jumping up from the water.
“We’re like mermaids,” Brandi says excitedly.
My heart swells so large my chest hurts. “You can be Ariel,” I tell her.
“And you can be one of her sisters!”
After a while, Dylan joins us, leaving Ethan to hang out with a bunch of his friends from the swim team.
Dylan leans close. He glances at us, then to the deep end, his voice low so only Brandi and I can hear him. “Brandi, I have to warn you. I heard there are sharks in this pool.”
Brandi’s eyes grow as large as fifty-cent pieces.
“No…” Her voice is a whisper.
He mimics her solemn expression and points to the deep end. “I thought I saw one down there.”
She squints real hard as she searches the water. “I don’t see—”
Dylan slips under the water, his hands skimming the surface, mimicking a shark fin.
Brandi jumps and shrieks before lumbering away in a fit of giggles. Dylan swims back and forth in the shallow end, chasing her while I stand in the corner and watch. Several other kids Brandi’s age join in, racing through the water, splashing and giggling, trying to escape from the killer shark. If Mrs. Douglas could see this, she’d cease her crusade to keep Dylan apart from his brother and sister.
If I die, will Brandi and Ethan lose Dylan?
Two hours later, family swim is over, and we’re back in Dylan’s car. The kids are asleep in the back seat, snoring softly. Brandi’s head rests on Ethan’s shoulder, and his head is tilted against hers.
My vision blurs and my throat burns. What will their lives be like without me? They live in their museum-like house, with an emotionless mother and a workaholic father. All the toys in the world aren’t going to compensate for a lack of love and attention.
I have to stay alive for them.
Dylan breaks the silence. “Spill it.”
I blink away tears as I pull my attention away from the kids. “What?”
“You can’t stop staring at them. Ever since I showed up this morning, you’ve been acting like…like my mother did last year when I came home from the hospital.” He slides a dark glance my way. “What are you afraid of? Is Jude going to come after them again?”
“I told you he’ll never come after them—or you—again.”
“Then what is it? And—”
“It’s nothing.”
“I was about to say…and don’t say it’s nothing.”
“I adore them.” I glance at the sleeping figures in the backseat. “That’s all.”
I’m dying to tell Dylan about Garret, but I can’t risk him telling Jude. Guilt twists my heart. Garret might come after Dylan too. He deserves to know. But can I trust him with Jude’s life? And my own?
“Whose life is in danger now?” His tone is sharper this time.
“You’re so dramatic!” I force a laugh. “Nothing’s going on.”
Dylan’s grimace tells me he doesn’t believe me, but he leaves it alone as we pull into the parking space at the printing company. I grab the order receipt from the dashboard and dash inside to pickup Brandi’s party invitations, relieved to get away from his probing stare. My phone buzzes, and I slide it from my pocket. My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I read the text message. Marcus has a sister?
Chapter Seventeen
Marcus paces across the living room of his apartment. “Her name is Selima. Camille told me about her,” he explains to me.
A car with a loud muffler roars down the street. Marcus slams the window so hard the walls and floor tremble. I sit stiffly on the couch. Camille, Garret, and now a long-lost sister. Marcus’s life has turned into one of those soap operas Momma used to watch when I was young.
I think back to the last time Marcus met with his mother, before that horrible night at the condo. That was a couple of weeks ago. “Why are you just telling me about Selima now?”
Marcus stops his pacing and faces me. His expression shifts from fear to panic. “Because she’s coming here. On Monday. After school.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question.”
Marcus rakes his fingers through his hair. “I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”
I really thought we were past the point of secrets. I guess not. “I’m more curious why you didn’t tell me.”
Marcus sits on the couch next to me. “My mother left me. My stepfather bailed, leaving me at St. Pat’s in the middle of Sunday service. Then I find out my birth father supposedly didn’t want kids.” He struggles to make eye contact. “And then Camille tells me about Selima, the daughter Garret adores. I struggled with that.”
I slide my arms around him. “I’m an idiot. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re not an idiot.” He pulls back. I see the worry in his eyes. “Will you go with me? To meet my sister?”
There are lines around Marcus’s eyes, and he’s wrenched his hair into a crazy mess. After all he’s been through, I should cut him some slack. But is it safe to meet with Garret’s daughter?
“What do you know about her?”
Marcus rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and exhales. “If you’re worried about her coming here to attack me, don’t be.” He stretches his lips into a partial smile. “She seemed more nervous about the meeting than me.”
I frown at him.
“Okay…equally nervous.”
We both laugh. I relish the sound. We haven’t had much to laugh about lately.
Chapter Eighteen
Dylan Douglas
I wait until Marcus pulls into the gas station before I climb out of my car. Rain streams down my scalp, diluting my gel. Great.
Marcus climbs out of his car and remains standing beneath the gas station canopy. He doesn’t bother meeting me halfway. His hair stays dry. Jerk.
“This better be important, Dylan.” It drives Marcus crazy that Lucy and I are close. If I had it my way, she’d leave him in the dust. Some day—and I’m hoping it won’t be long—she’ll realize I’m the better choice. I make her laugh. With all the crap in her life, that should mean something.
I recall Lucy’s expression last weekend, as she watched Ethan and Brandi sleeping in the backseat of the car. I know that look. I’ve felt the exact same way, fear you wouldn’t see them again. I’ve asked her about it twice since then, and she keeps dodging the subject.
I nod at Marcus grimly. Need to be convincing here, D-Man. “Lucy told me what’s going on.”
Marcus tries to mask his surprise as he shoves his keys in the pocket of his jeans. It feels pretty damn good to watch him fumble. His eyes narrow. “How much did she tell you?”
I grin inwardly. I like getting under that brooding exterior.
“Everything.” I lie. “The question is…what are you going to do about it?” I fake a dramatic sigh and stare off for a moment. “And what can I do to help?”
“You? What makes you think you can do anything?”
“You have a short memory. I was there for her last time. I did whatever was asked of me, for her sake.”
Marcus frowns, unable to dispute that. He starts to say something, then stops. He glances at the ground, then back at me. It takes a lot of effort not to laugh at his sheepish expression. “You haven’t told her about that night, have you? I mean…I figured you haven’t. I’m not sure she could handle it.”
I cross my arms over my chest and rock back on my heels. “I haven’t said a word to her and don’t plan to.” I pause for effect. “
But you might want to think about this. Lucy’s powers are growing. And she’s smart. Don’t you think she’s going to wake up one day and realize a simple embrace from you isn’t enough to save a girl near death?”
Marcus’s Adam’s apple bobs.
“She’s going to figure out there was more to that night, and when she does, she’s going to be furious we kept it from her.”
Marcus nods thoughtfully. “You have a point. I did what I had to do…but I owe her the truth.”
Lucy’s going to freak. A part of me feels bad for him. I’m grateful to Marcus for saving her, but at the same time she deserves to know the truth. And I’m sick of holding onto it. But that’s not why we’re here. “So what’re we going to do about the current situation?”
“I don’t know.” Marcus suddenly looks tired and sad at the same time.
Guilt starts pulling at me. I can’t worry about him. Getting to the root of Lucy’s problem is my priority.
Marcus’s tone turns to a whisper as if he’s talking to himself. “I wish I knew when Garret plans to move. We’ve got Jude’s power on our side. Killing the demon won’t be easy.”
It takes effort to restrain myself. Kill Jude? This is great news! But…that doesn’t make sense. Lucy seemed so sad. And Marcus looks ready to explode. What am I missing?
Marcus nods at me, his gaze turning fierce. “If you want to help, figure out a way to keep Lucy alive.” He turns on his heel, climbs into his car, and peels out of the parking lot, fishtailing on the wet pavement.
I stare after him, ignoring the rain. Lucy’s life is in danger again. Still? First Seamus. Now Garret. Who’s Garret anyway? Does this have something to do with Jude?
Who am I kidding? It always has something to do with Jude. The question eating at me is…why is Lucy keeping this from me?
Chapter Nineteen
Lucy Walker
The smell of coffee fills the kitchen. It’s a happy smell. A comfortable, snuggly smell. I kiss my uncles goodbye, ignoring their silly smiles.
“Tell Dylan hello for us,” Sheldon calls after me as I head out the door for another day of demon training.
It’s odd for Dylan to miss an opportunity to brown nose my uncles in person, but his text said to meet him outside. I want to tell him Marcus has a sister and we’re going to meet her tomorrow night—something that scares and excites me—but that’s difficult since I haven’t said a word about Camille and Garret.
I slept with my fingers curled around the feather tucked under my pillow, praying Selima isn’t here to hurt Marcus or take him away.
As soon as I climb into his car, Dylan shifts gears, an angry grinding sound, and speeds off down the street.
“Hey, chill out!” I grip the dashboard and my door handle. “You’re going to upset my uncles.”
“So, you’re going to die?” His face twists. “What was it you said? Oh, yeah. ‘Dylan, don’t worry. Nothing’s going on.’ Isn’t that the load of crap you fed me?”
I open my mouth, then close it again.
Dylan pounds the steering wheel with his fist. “Do I matter to you at all? Or is this your way of keeping me out of the way? Reminding me how useless I was last time?”
He’s driving too fast. It’s scaring me. “You weren’t useless. How…how did you find out?”
“Does it matter?” he yells. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you the one who hates secrets?”
I’ve never seen him this angry.
Dylan throws a determined look my way. “We need to have a sit-down with Jude today. Screw his stupid lunch, bonding like we’re some kind of freaky-happy demon family. Let’s tell him about this, so we can take action. Save you.”
“No!” I grab his arm. “You don’t understand. If we tell Jude, he’ll kill Garret.”
Dylan shakes off my hand. “So what? I’ll take Garret’s death over yours.”
“Garret’s important. He’s a protector, like Marcus. And he’s Marcus’s father.” I nearly gag on the words.
Dylan’s eyeballs look as if they’re going to pop out of his head. “I don’t care who he is. Why’s he planning to kill you anyway?”
I slide low in my seat. “You have your facts wrong.” I almost ask again where he got his information, but I’m afraid he’ll rip my head off. “When a demon dies, his descendants die right along with him.”
All anger slips from his face. “He’s after Jude.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “And if you tell Jude, he might attack first. And Garret has a lot of backup.”
“Why? I mean, how does it work? Is there any way around it?” Dylan’s frantic gaze bounces between the road and me.
“Henry says that when Jude dies, fifty-percent of the DNA I inherited from him immediately goes poof. It literally dissolves. Then I’ll die.”
I flinch when Dylan punches the steering wheel again, harder this time. It’s not going to withstand much more from his fists.
“This is a load of crap!”
“It’s not just me I’m worried about,” I tell him.
“What do you mean?” Dylan glares at me for a second before returning his attention to the road.
“The deal your dad made with Jude all those years ago. He drank a goblet of Jude’s blood. You carry some of Jude’s genes, too.”
“My parents are my parents.” Dylan glowers. “I may have a very small amount of Jude’s genetics inside of me, but not enough to kill me if he dies. Not like you. Dammit!” Dylan whacks the dashboard this time.
I reach for his arm, but stop myself. With his demon genes expressing themselves, he’s unpredictable. He could lash out and punch me. “Dylan…you need to hold it together. You can’t let on that anything’s wrong.”
“Great. More pretending. Like I do with my dad, pretending everything’s fine when he’s married to the biggest social-climbing witch on the planet. And that something’s changing in me, a Tasmanian devil running loose inside, but hey—” His expression twists into a mad scientist kind of grin as he holds up jazz hands. “Look at me, everything’s JUST GREAT!”
The car in front of us isn’t moving fast enough for Dylan. He jerks the steering wheel, then stomps on the gas pedal and races around them. I nearly flop out of my seat. I get that he’s hurt I kept the Jude and Garret thing from him, but his anger has escalated too far. Is this a side effect of his demon genes coming to life?
“Maybe you should take a pass today. Drop me off and go to the gym, work this off,” I suggest with forced gentleness.
“Yeah, right. And leave you vulnerable in case this Garret guy shows up to assassinate Jude?” Dylan snorts. “No way. From now on, I’m stuck to you like glue.”
If he wasn’t acting like a psycho, I’d laugh at his play on words. Instead, I clutch the center console and my door handle and keep my mouth shut.
Once again, Jude meets us at the door, and I wonder if Darcy, Jude’s fashionista-like assistant, suffered a similar extermination like the red-eyed crows.
We eat a quick, awkward lunch, then head out the back door to the yard. I stop short when I see Jack and his two thugs—the shapeshifting Rottweilers who Jude sent to terrorize Dylan and kidnap Marcus last year. “What are they doing here?”
“Aiden couldn’t make it today,” Jude says.
“But…” Garret’s probably watching us now. Aiden is supposed to be here to help protect Jude. This doesn’t make sense. Did Jude order him away, worried Aiden and Dylan’s dislike for each other would interfere with training?
“It was my suggestion,” Dylan says behind me.
I spin around to face him. “Are you crazy?”
His face breaks into a cocky smile, a smile that contrasts with the glaring accusation in his eyes. The fury is still simmering below the surface.
“Jude told me Aiden couldn’t make it. I thought this might be…” Dylan nods at Jack, Troy, and Matt, “fun.”
I turn back to Jude, my muscles twitching. “I can’t believe you agreed to this. After everythi
ng these dirt bags did last year…” I bite my tongue. “If they hurt him, I’m done with you.”
Dylan laughs. The sound sends a chill down my spine. What’s wrong with him? Does he have a death wish? These guys are strong, and there are three of them. Dylan jogs across the huge yard to get started on today’s training.
The three creeps utter a low growl in unison, smiles of satisfaction on their faces. They act as if they’ve already won. Three against one isn’t fair. Dylan isn’t thinking straight. My stomach churns painfully. Jude won’t let this go too far will he?
It doesn’t matter. I’ll be watching them. The first hint that Dylan’s in trouble, I’ll chase the mutts off.
I glare at Jude. “Do I get to shoot fireballs at you again today?”
Jude glances across the field at Dylan, his expression thoughtful. Is he curious how this sick match is going to turn out?
“No, today is defensive work. I’m going to throw fireballs at you. You’re going to learn how to deflect them.”
Jude spends the next thirty minutes demonstrating various maneuvers. I check over my shoulder every time I hear someone swear or yelp. I cry out at one point as I watch Jack, Troy, and Matt circle Dylan, their teeth bared like a pack of wolves ready to attack. Heat races up and down my arms. I’m about to go help Dylan, when Jude grabs hold of my elbow.
“Let me go!” I thrash against his vice-like grip.
“Just watch.”
I hold my breath, my heartbeat pounding in my chest and my ears. Dylan crouches in a defensive position as Jack and his two friends continue to circle. The heat settles in my palms. My heartbeat pulsates through my limbs. I restrain the overwhelming urge to hurl fireballs across the yard at the three losers.
“Dylan!” I cry as Troy lunges at him from behind. Jude’s grip tightens. I consider firing off at him in order to get loose. Electrical impulses scream through my body. The urge is strong. The burning in my hands is too much. I need to hurt someone.
Jude meets my look of rage and desperation with a steely gaze. “Don’t even think about it.”
The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series Page 10