Gibberish. It’s all gibberish.
I poke my head through the wall just a little so I can see them. Fortunately, I pick a spot where no one is looking.
“Which means we can deal with the girl now,” Jude says as I lean back before they spot me.
“Deal with her how? We can’t touch her. We don’t know what she is. And it’s very likely we’re the only ones who can see her if she’s meant to be a hindrance to us,” Gage states flatly.
They better be glad I can’t hit them. I’d totally do it right now.
Without a word, I sit down on the stairs and listen to them dissect a hundred nefarious theories about my existence, while I peek in on occasion to get my fix.
Never once in all those fantasies did I see them trying to figure out a way to get rid of me.
It makes me hate them a little.
Chapter 6
A week of trying to sneak around the house has left my stomach in knots. Every time I accidentally run into one of them, I quickly pass through a wall.
It’s tense and awkward.
They’re reading books on what I might be so they can evict me from their lives.
I’m mostly hiding because I’m worried they’re going to succeed.
If I can go next level, I’ll be whole. Surely my soul or whatever won’t be attached to anything then, and I can run like a motherfucking freed animal who just escaped the cage of impending doom.
I’ve worked too hard to survive to die now by the hands of the ones who once gave me purpose and a reason to want to survive.
Fortunately, they’ve all gone to bed now. Like a bad habit, I go from room to room, muttering a ‘good night.’
Tomorrow is apparently the gauntlet or whatever, so they turned in early. Even Kai is snoring for a change.
In fact, they’re all sleeping heavily tonight. Ezekiel is also snoring.
He never snores.
I move to the bed, my hand scrolling over the side of his cheek as I study him in confusion. Never once in five years has he snored. He never gets that deep into sleep.
And Kai went to sleep really fast. Which is very unusual.
I move to Jude’s room, finding him to be just as dead to the world as the others. He always sleeps on his back. Tonight he’s on his stomach, and he’s still in his clothes.
I know for a fact he can’t stand sleeping in clothes. He always gets naked.
Backing out of his room, I look around.
Maybe they want to kill me, and maybe I hate them a little, but I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting them.
Which is clearly about to happen.
I jog down the stairs, checking the doors and such. I spot the bottle on the counter they picked up from Harold today, and I freeze.
They only had one shot apiece. Not that I was watching. I just heard Kai telling them only one to douse the nerves and take the edge off.
My eyes hone in on the little swirls of green that I can barely see. It’s almost like my ghostly reflection used to be—so transparent that only the best vision could catch a true glimpse.
Shit.
That’s never been in those bottles before.
The smallest breeze stirs the paper on the counter, and I whirl around, seeing the window open.
Oh no.
I race up the stairs, not seeing anyone around. Then I quickly start shoving my head through the doors, peering in on everyone.
When I get to Jude’s room, though, my heart almost flips out of my chest.
A man with a sword draws closer to Jude’s bed, as another man grips his own sword by the door, holding it in front of him like he expects Jude to stop snoring and start fighting.
I run through the man, not feeling any of those tingles, and race to the bed, passing through it and Jude as I stare at the one who is warily approaching the sleeping Four.
“Stop!” I shout at the man, but he can’t see me.
My eyes dart to the one by the door, but he seems unaware of my presence as well.
The second he draws that sword, I prepare to level up, diving at him just as I did the other one, as every ounce of fear propels my lunge.
But instead of me hitting him with my hand, something flies out of me, and it slams into him. I have no idea what invisible force just zipped through my fingertips, leaving a cold, familiar feeling behind.
His eyes widen as a yelp leaves his mouth, and he crashes into the other man. The other man who…was holding a sword in front of him.
That man looks too stunned to move, while the one with the sword sticking out of his chest opens his mouth in a silent scream. My stomach goes queasy when the veins in his body start turning black. The sword glows brighter and brighter, sucking whatever life is inside him out.
The not-dying guy jerks the sword out of the dying guy, and stares at him in horror as he darts a panicked gaze toward the sleeping man, looking right through me.
With a growl of frustration, he lunges, sword slicing down before I can process. That same familiar feeling crosses through my body and bursts out like an explosion.
The man’s breath catches as he freezes midair, and I keep my hand out as I step closer, feeling whatever foreign power is radiating from me.
It feels like it takes forever, but it all really happens within a matter of seconds. He’s launched across the room just like the other man, but when he collapses, he doesn’t move.
I quickly rush over, fully prepared for him to throw that sword out at me. Instead, my breath hisses from me and I stagger back.
It looks like he has chemical burns all over his face and body. Like his insides were dipped in toxic waste, and now they’re all oozing out of every orifice possible, and burning him away from the inside out.
The burns just get worse, and I have to turn away.
Mr. Dark Veins is on the cusp of death, and he stares directly at me now, when he couldn’t see me earlier.
His lips curve in a slow grin as he coughs and laughs. He opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but his head falls to the side instead as he goes lifeless.
Dead.
In less than a few minutes, I managed to kill two people. One of which couldn’t see me and then could.
I glance down, finding my hand still mostly transparent, even if my breaths do feel warmer as they stagger from my chest.
Maybe I was an assassin before I was this, because this was too easy. And it felt really right.
Which is seriously freaking disturbing.
I wish I could have a drink right now. I think I deserve it.
Glancing back, I look over at Jude and hear the light sounds of his snores as he sleeps peacefully.
“You’re welcome,” I grumble.
The sound of footsteps approaching sends a chill up my spine. Apparently this night isn’t over.
Somebody really wants these boys—no longer my boys—dead.
My fingers tingle, ready for action. Just because I can, I change out of my normal attire and go for a more badass look, even though they can’t see me.
Because priorities are important.
Chapter 7
I’m very annoyed with whatever show this is supposed to be. Fortunately, there seems to be a marathon of it.
That sounds like two odd sentences to press together, doesn’t it?
While I can apparently toss grown men around when in panicked, protective mode, I still can’t put any pressure on a TV remote to change the channel.
There were a lot more zombies when this show started. I’m quite confused by this entire second season. Admittedly I’m only watching because one of the side characters is actually a very badass woman.
Keyla saves these people time and time again, yet gets zero respect. It’s like they take her for granted.
I sort of like the blood and gore though, so I continue to watch, learning a little about fighting for survival. These people do impossible things when their lives or other lives depend on it.
I suppose that gives me a ki
ndred sort of feeling, especially with poor, underappreciated Keyla.
I had a very busy night, but I’ve still managed to watch this in between bouts of psychotic men who wanted to kill the boys while they slept.
Not that they’d ever believe such a thing. After all, the bodies seemed to disappear shortly after their deaths.
Either the guys will think I’m making it up to get them to like me—I’m not that pathetic, thank you very much—or they’ll consider me even more of a threat for being able to achieve such heinous things.
I’ll just keep it to myself.
The door beside me flies open, and I startle a little.
Usually they try to sneak in with stealth.
My eyes dart to it to see a haggard looking Harold as he collapses inside, his veins black, much like that one man who I knocked into that sword.
I’m on my feet and moving toward him, wondering if he’s the one who dosed their bottle of liquor last night. It doesn’t look like it, since it seems as though someone wants him dead as well.
His eyes fall on me, but I can tell he doesn’t see me as he shakes his head, struggling to get up.
Leaning over, I stroke his arm, trying to comfort him, since it looks as though he’ll be dying like that other fellow who disappeared.
His muscles strain as he curses, and the veins throb as he fights so hard to beat this poison. Whatever it may be.
Stroking his arm is silly, since he can’t be comforted by my non-existent touch. But I feel like I know him, since they’ve been visiting him for years, and I can’t just let him die alone.
Little by little, the black in his veins seems to lessen as he continues to fight it somehow. So Jude might have survived? Doubtful.
They’ve said Harold is very important and powerful numerous times, though I have no idea what exactly that means. Most of the time, they speak in what sounds like code, and until recently, I couldn’t ask them to explain what that code meant.
And now they talk in even more code since learning of my existence.
Harold sits up suddenly, the black still present but not as fiercely roaming his veins as before. Struggling back up to his feet, I hear him shout a curse so loud the whole house nearly quakes.
I’d like to help him up the stairs, but you can’t use a crutch you can’t touch, so I follow him instead. As soon as he rounds the top of stairs, I hear a door fly open, and I decide my job with Harold is done.
I’d like to go finish my show if they’re going to take care of him.
“Harold?” I hear Gage ask in confusion.
“You’re alive,” Harold says in sweet relief, collapsing. “Thank fuck for that. Where’re your brothers? Are you the only one?”
I hear a lot of scurrying after that, and Gage shouting at them. They’re all fine. I’ve kept a close watch on everyone during the night.
I take my seat on the couch, as Jude and Gage begin helping Harold back down the stairs.
Why isn’t there any romance in this show? That’s what’s missing. A good ol’ fashioned romance where the girl can only be rejected by one guy she’s fantasized about instead of four.
Why do I know that’s ol’ fashioned romance? Hell if I know. It’s just one of those things that is pointless for me to know, so I know it.
“What the hell happened to you?” Ezekiel asks as they get Harold situated in a chair near me.
Gage darts a suspicious glance at me, but I pretend not to notice as my attention seemingly stays fixed on the screen.
“Manella,” Harold bites out.
I just keep hearing this Manella fellow’s name. I think I’d like to kill him if he’s the one behind this.
“Lamar came to the shop last night, stuck a Decay Dagger in my gut, and took over my identity long enough to pass you along some tainted spirits.”
Jude goes to the kitchen, which is next to us and easy to see. He snatches the open bottle of liquor that left them so vulnerable and sniffs it.
“This is why I slept so hard,” he growls.
“I’ve never slept as hard as I did last night, but it was like I was locked in a nightmare and couldn’t escape. What the fuck is it?” Ezekiel asks him.
“It’s noctem root found only in Purgatory. But’s it’s hard to find,” Harold says, snarling. “I had to watch Lamar put it into my spirit drinks. That dagger left me paralyzed. Then Lamar shifted to look like me, and you dicks didn’t know the difference.”
Kai takes a seat on the end of the couch, far away from me, as he faces Harold. “You’re in neutral territory. You’re supposed to be untouchable by law. We never thought we had to question if it was you,” Kai points out.
“Apparently Manella isn’t concerned with law right now. Whatever is going on, he wants you four out of the trials. Those questions you’ve been asking are definitely getting more interesting. How are you even alive right now? I had to listen to him call in a hit to any being with the balls to come after you. Once I managed to get that dagger out of my chest, I learned of at least seven who took the opportunity.”
Eleven men tried to cash in on that hit, to be exact. But who’s counting?
I feel the weight of four very intense stares swing toward me, but I pretend as though I find my nails to be fascinating.
“What are you looking at?” Harold asks, confusion in his tone.
“Nothing,” Kai grumbles, which digs that little knife of theirs a little deeper into my gut.
I spent my night killing men to save their lives, but I’m nothing.
Awesome guys I’ve somehow been tied to, huh?
Pricks.
“No one managed to kill us,” Gage states vaguely.
“Then I guess you were lucky, since you didn’t drink the root,” Harold says in a relieved breath, even though he knows they were lucky because they’re not dead. “I’ve spent the night trying to get that damn dagger free from my chest. I’m sure Lamar expected it to kill me on this plane.”
Jude lowers himself to a chair right beside me, his eyes raking over me. I continue to pretend as though I’m aloof and uninterested in their attention, my eyes lifting to watch the show again when the commercial break is over.
Ezekiel takes a seat on the couch, his body almost touching mine. But I never lift my gaze from the TV, though I now have no clue what’s going on.
“What do you two keep looking at?” Harold asks.
“If Manella is getting this desperate, then we need to do something about our security. Clearly the protection spell surrounding this place has been drained,” Kai says to his brothers.
Even his gaze flicks to me momentarily, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking his way.
“I need something to suck the last of this poison out of me. I’ve fought it all I can,” Harold says on a weary breath.
“Shit. Of course,” Gage says as he leaps to his feet and moves through the house.
I hear cupboards banging for a minute before he returns with something. I can’t see it from my peripheral, and I’m still making a concentrated effort not to look at them.
As he gives Harold whatever it is, I stand, my eyes averting all of them, even as they all watch me.
I pass through the couch, moving toward the stairs. They’ll be leaving for the gauntlet soon, and I’d like to hitch a ride this time, so I’m staying close so as not to get left behind again. I’ll hide in the weapons closet, since they aren’t wearing their weapons yet.
“I need to call Dominic. He needs to hear about this,” Harold says. “Lamar will face consequences for touching an Elder on neutral ground, though I doubt he’ll point a finger at Manella. But you boys need to be careful today. They’ll come for you in there. Very few survive the gauntlet, and no one will think about it.”
“I’ll get you a ride,” I hear Kai telling him.
They continue to talk about conspiracy theories, as I pass into the weapons closet and wait.
No more than ten minutes later, I hear, “Get out here, nameless girl
. We need to speak to you.”
Kai doesn’t sound overly pleased to be summoning me, and I don’t particularly like being summoned. So I stay in my place.
“Where the fuck did she go?” Gage asks, sounding as though he’s in the hallway.
“She can pass through walls, so who fucking knows?” Jude growls.
“Come out…We really need a name to call her,” Ezekiel states.
Why give me a name when they simply plan to pretend I don’t exist?
“She looks like a Mary,” Jude deadpans.
The word virgin seems to accompany that name, and it doesn’t sound quite like me, since I don’t plan on being a virgin when I’m whole.
“Something a little edgier would better suit her if she’s killing assassins in our sleep,” Kai tells him, and I tilt my head, a little more interested.
The prospect of having a name does make my heart beat a little faster.
“Keyla,” Ezekiel says suddenly, and my heart all but sputters.
“Why that name?” Kai asks.
“Because of that show she was watching. Keyla is the one who is constantly fending off the worst of the attacks. Maybe our little haunter considers herself our protector. Not a scratch is on us after someone drugged us and left us to die. The protection spell has been drained, leaving us vulnerable in such a condition. We should be dead if Manella dropped a hit.”
It sounds like they’re moving closer to me.
“If she can’t touch things, as she claims, then how did she fend off seven highly trained assassins?” Jude asks skeptically.
Eleven, I silently amend. But again, who’s counting?
“She kept saying she ‘leveled up’ after saving me that first night,” Gage answers. “Maybe the same thing happened last night.”
“It’s doubtful Manella has anything to do with her being here if he just sacrificed Lamar’s life to set up this hit on us. Last time he sent one man, and that man died. This time, he sent a small army and attacked an elder on neutral ground. He wouldn’t have done that and then asked her to save us, knowing what his failure will cost him. Lamar is his lover as well as his most trusted man.”
Four Psychos (The Dark Side Book 1) Page 4