by May Dawson
"Ha," I said.
Jacob's lips quirked up slightly. "We've talked about my quirks. Go ahead and test me."
I tossed my hair back, pursing my lips at him, even though deep down part of me absolutely did want to test him and see what happened. If I liked it. But tonight was definitely not the night for that.
Jacob clapped Ryker on the shoulder. "Go take a shower and get cleaned up. We've got this."
To me, Levi promised, "When he wakes up, I'll come get you."
Ryker headed out of the room. He was already pulling his bloodied t-shirt over his head.
"Go," Jacob told me, resting his hands on my shoulder. "Be the grown-up for both of you. Make him talk."
I sighed.
But I went.
20
When I pushed open the door to Ryker's room, I could hear the shower running.
I turned to close the door, feeling awkward as hell. As I pushed the door shut, I heard the click, then a whisper in Latin and a strange faint hum in the door frame. I tried to pull the door open again, but it stuck.
"I wish I knew how to say you're insufferable in Latin," I said in the general direction of the door.
"Tu impetibili," Jacob said from the other side. "You'll thank me later."
"Doubtful."
I turned around, now that I was locked in, and took in Ryker's room. It was neat as always; his blue quilt was smooth, and there was a stack of books on his nightstand. What the boys were reading always gave something away to me—I had known I could love Jacob from the first time I saw him reading a romance novel—and so I sat on the edge of Ryker's bed to look at the books.
But these were all heavy, leather-bound Hunter's tomes. A Field Guide to Demons. Case Studies in Raising the Dead. Myths & Reality in the Far. A slender book asked, Can Any Supernatural Be Saved?
Little bits of paper stuck out of the books, where Ryker had marked his place. He'd been trying to figure out if Nimshi could be helped. If my sister could be rescued.
But clearly, he hadn't liked what he had read.
The shower cut off. Ryker had left the door open, and steam curled out of the bathroom. I stacked his books back up on the nightstand. That drew my eye to the photo of Ryker and Levi with their mom, Wendy. The boys were just teenagers, already tattooed across far-more muscular forearms than any boy I'd known in high school. Wendy's sleeves were pushed up, revealing her own dark tattoos, and she looked buff and kickass. Even as a blond. I would have liked to have known her. I didn't really have any role model for how to be the kind of woman I was called upon to be now.
Ryker walked out of the bathroom behind me, yawning, and I turned to say hi.
And he was naked.
His broad pecs and biceps were covered in elaborate black runes. The wound across his abs was nothing but a red angry welt now, and even the welt couldn't take away from the perfection of his chiseled abs that made my fingers ache to trace over each one. His lower abs were tight, too, and they ended in a dark blond happy trail that my fingers also wouldn't mind racing down.
"Oh, god." I shaded my eyes with my hand, looking down at his quilt. "Oh, hi."
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
I glanced up again, assuming he might have grabbed a towel.
He had emphatically not grabbed a towel. Instead, he set his hands on his narrow hips. That did not make his body any less distracting. If anything, the motion made his cock bob up and down slightly with the movement, waving in front of his hard, lower abs in a way that made me bite down hard on my lower lip. Don't be distracted by the pretty man, Ellis.
"I came to have a serious talk with you," I said. "Speaking of which. Could you maybe put on a shirt? Pants?"
"I didn't expect you to invade my privacy," he said. "Or I would have."
"I'm invading your privacy now? I thought you liked finding me on your bed." But saying that just made me smart over how he'd turned me down the other day.
Of course, he'd been hurt because I hadn't said I love you back.
But to be fair, it had been a half-assed I love you. I love you even though you're an idiot does not carry the same weight to reciprocate.
No matter how hurt he had looked when I didn't say it back to him.
He crossed the room to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers. He turned his back to me. I stared unabashedly at his tight ass as he stepped into them. His back muscles rippled as he pulled a t-shirt on over his head.
He finally turned back to me. "Happy?"
Let's be honest, I was never happier when Ryker wore a shirt.
"Thanks," I said. "I'd like to state for the record that this isn't my idea. I was bossed to talk it out with you. Apparently, you aren't the only bossy one. And Jacob locked us in here with a spell."
"Because Jacob is a jackass," Ryker said, loudly enough to be heard in the hall.
"A jackass who cares about us both," I said. "In his own manipulative psychopathic way."
"Or maybe they're just tired of hearing us argue." Ryker said. "I know I'm tired of it."
"Me, too." I meant to sound glib, but my voice came out small.
He threw himself down on the bed beside me, landing on his back. I swayed toward him as the mattress dipped, but I planted my hands on the side of the bed, stopping myself from touching him. I could still feel his body heat, because he was only an inch away from me. Our bodies were so close. And yet so far apart.
"So how do we stop fighting when we don't agree?" he asked. "We're never going to agree."
I swiveled so I could lay down next to him. I let myself sink into his bed even though I couldn't let myself roll into his body the way I wanted to. I longed to nestle my head on his shoulder and pull his tattooed arm over my waist.
"Well, I've studied the Lilith verses exhaustively, and I think I've figured it out."
"Oh?"
"You just give me what I want."
He tossed a pillow gently over my face. "Brat."
"I'd do anything for you," I said. "To save your brothers. It doesn't make me feel very good that you won't help me when it's my sister."
For a second, he was quiet. "It's not about your sister. It's about not wrecking the world, Ellis. You know damn well how much trouble a demon in a human body is."
"They're also not that hard to kill."
"Yeah." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sure that relationship would just go on without a hiccup, huh? Whichever one of us it was—Jacob, Levi, me—had to run your sister through to kill the demon."
"I'll do it myself." The words had sounded better in my head than when I said them out loud, where they sounded thin and unconvincing. "I just want a chance to save her."
"The demon's spirit would drag her to Hell right with it."
"Then I'll go get her. Isn't that how this works? The Lilith can walk into Heaven and Hell?"
"We don't even know if we can make it into the Far."
"We'll have Nimshi."
"That's a whole different argument. Maybe we should stick with one."
I sighed.
"I don't know what we're going to do," I said softly.
"Me either." His knuckles brushed against mine.
I slid my palm over his. His hand closed around mine.
"You know I love you anyway," he said, his voice casual.
I froze. My heart seemed to beat too fast.
"I know." I tried for a glib, cocky tone. I probably succeeded a bit too well.
He shook his head. I turned my head to look at him, but his eyes drifted shut. His jaw was set in that way that always made my heart lurch; he looked angry. But I knew Ryker well enough by now to know that anger was his default setting for any emotion he couldn't handle.
I'd hurt his feelings, once again.
"Ryker," I said.
"What?" His voice was cool.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I've said it twice. You aren't ready to say it back, that's clear. That's fine."
He didn't sound li
ke he meant that's fine.
"It's just, not right now—"
"Maybe you'll never be ready," he said. He sat up, twisting so his back was to me. "That's fine, too. I've had a lot more time to get used to this than you have."
"It's not about that." Those words vibrated in my soul. Maybe you'll never be ready. I knew I would be. I already loved him.
"Maybe you'll say it to your demon friend."
"Now you're just being jealous." I felt anger flare up, and it felt a whole lot better than the guilt I'd felt for hurting him.
"I shouldn't have to be jealous of a demon. I'm not jealous of Levi or Jacob. But for you to put him above the rest of us—"
"You aren't jealous? Are you sure?" My voice came out arch, skeptical.
Ryker said, loudly for the audience in the hall, if there still was one, "This is going great. Great plan, guys."
"I'm the Lilith," I said. "I'm the one who knows the four of you. All four of you. So when I say Nimshi can be redeemed, you should trust me."
"You didn't know us. You got to know us."
"I always had a feeling about you."
"Yeah, I would hope the fact that I stayed at the asylum for you, that I fought for you, that I was there for you in your nightmares contributed to that feeling. But Nimshi tortures you and magic-roofies you and you're like, ah, seems like a good guy."
"You think God made a mistake when he made the Four this time around?"
"Yep."
"We should just go to bed."
"Fine." He pulled the blankets aside, sliding in beside me.
I went into the bathroom to unhook my bra and slide off my jeans, folding them and leaving them on the sink. "I'm using your toothbrush since we're locked in."
"I'm pretty sure shared toothbrushes are reserved for people who love each other," Ryker muttered.
"You want me to have bad breath? We're supposed to be destined for each other, but I don't want to risk breaking the magic."
"Yeah," Ryker muttered. "You already tried that with Jacob, remember? Not that you ever talked it over with me?"
His toothbrush was in my mouth, so my protest might have been garbled. "I already said I was sorry. I thought we were past that."
"Yeah, well, I'm in the mood to hold a grudge."
I glanced at the other door out of the bathroom, the one that led to Levi's room. As I brushed, I tried the door knob, but it was locked.
"Not happening," Levi called from the other side of the door. "Although I'm about to start researching magic to cure stubbornness, for the both of you."
"Maybe you can find the spell next to the one for nosiness."
I could hear the grin in Levi's voice. "We just love you both too much to let you keep being so... you. It's painful to watch when the trouble is you two are so much alike."
"Tu impetibili," I told him. My Latin was bad anyway, but it certainly sounded worse when I was brushing my teeth. I rinsed my mouth and washed my face with Ryker's sandalwood-scented soap.
When I walked back into the bedroom, Ryker was lying on his back, his muscular arms tucked beneath his head. He stared up at the ceiling.
"I'm borrowing one of your shirts." I crossed over to his dresser and began to rifle through it.
"Help yourself." He glanced over at me as I pulled a shirt out. "Not Led Zepplin. You haven't earned Led Zeppelin."
"I'm wearing it." I faced away from him, pulling my own shirt over my head, and dropped it on the floor.
"Do you know where the laundry basket is?" He asked. I could feel his gaze on me. "It's literally one foot away from that spot on my floor. You're a terrible roommate."
"You're a terrible soulmate."
"You're also terrible at holding up your end of a healthy, productive argument."
"This hasn't been a healthy, productive argument." I pulled his favorite t-shirt over my head, breathing in the scent of Tide and fabric softener. The shirt fell loose over my body, soft and cozy, and I pulled my hair out from the collar, sweeping it over my shoulder.
"No kidding."
"I just want you to trust me. To see me as an equal. Like Jacob or Levi."
His lush lips pursed up. "I don't want to see you like I see Jacob and Levi."
"You know what I mean. I don't just want lust between us. I want trust. Respect."
"I do trust you and respect you." His voice was confident, clear, and I wished I felt the same.
Unspoken, but there in his words, was that and I love you. But I didn't expect to hear that again anytime soon. The thought made me ache. I knew I would be gutted if I told him that I loved him and he didn't say it back.
But no matter how much I ached, I was still angry. "You trust me, but not to make a decision about Nimshi or about my sister—"
"Well, that goes two ways. Right? You could trust me about Nimshi or your sister." He cocked his head slightly to one side.
"I am so sure about this, Ryker."
"So am I."
I got into bed and pulled the blankets over my head.
"Very mature." His voice was soft, even without being muted by the blankets I hid under.
I felt the bed shift beneath us as he rolled over.
21
I knew I was having a nightmare. But that didn't mean I could escape from it.
"Wake up," I said out loud to myself, turning in a slow circle. I knew this garden; I had dreamed it before.
Ash ran past me. She had cut most of the skirt away from her prom dress, so her long, brown legs flashed as she ran; the last bit of sapphire satin and tulle whipped past me. She ran from the garden to the forest ahead of her.
I tried to scream for her to stop. It was in the woods that everything always burned. If she would stay here in the garden, if she would talk to me, we could fix all of this.
But I couldn't hear my own voice. Not once I saw Ash. I shook my head to try to clear my ears. The world seemed unnaturally silent.
I tried to scream. My ears popped, but nothing happened.
And then, like always, I ran after Ash.
There had to be some way to get through to her. She came and talked to me when she wanted. In my nightmares, why was she unreachable?
She turned her head over her shoulder, her wide eyes meeting mine. She looked terrified. Then she tripped, because she was looking back. She tried to regain her balance, her arms wind milling wide in front of her. She just barely managed to stumble on.
I caught the hem of her skirt just as she tried to run away.
She juked away from me. When she looked back, her face full of fear and fury, I realized that it was me she was running from.
I had thought we were both running from something. But I was the monster that dogged her heels.
I stopped dead. Time sped up. Sound returned; the low sound of birds singing in the distance and the wind rustling the trees.
Ash stopped, a few dozen feet away, and hesitated. She held herself lightly, as if she were ready to run again.
"Did you ever ask me?" Ash said.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you ever ask me if I want to come back?"
"All right," I said. "Ash. Do you want to come back?"
But she was gone. The garden was empty except for the swaying tiger lilies in front of me.
Maybe I should take that as an answer.
"Ash," I called, walking slowly after her. "Mom is here. Do you think you could ghost back for her? She's been sitting with you. She's sleeping in your room now. She misses you so much."
And even knowing that my grief was apparently terrifying to my sister, I added, "I miss you so much. I need you, Ash."
The tiger lilies bobbed their bright-orange heads in the breeze. The garden should have been beautiful. Instead it terrified me; it was so lonely and off here.
I rubbed my fingers over my tattoo, tempted to call Nimshi—just for company—but I hoped that he was resting. I wished Ryker would realize I was dreaming and come to me. I almost felt nostalgic for the time I'd nea
rly set the asylum on fire, when Ryker had talked me out of my nightmares. I'd barely known him then, but when his confident voice broke into my nightmares, I’d felt like I could trust him..
There had been something about Ryker that drew me in from the beginning. And it wasn't just that he was built like a Greek god and handsome as hell. Those deep green eyes of his, the way one corner of his mouth quirked up, the way he carried his tall, broad-shouldered body with dangerous confidence... everything about him made me melt.
When he wasn't driving me mad.
I stared ahead of me at the forest, where the trees swayed. The sun seemed far away, a distant white ball in a pale sky, as if this world was twisted and distorted.
I wasn't going to chase my sister into the forest again today, the place where we both always burned.
I turned and walked away. She didn't want me to follow her anymore.
The garden stretched out in front of me, a labyrinth of lush green walls. I walked forward into the maze, my fingers trailing over the green edges of the bushes. I always made left turns so that I could find my way back out. Every few turns, I came across a pocket in the garden with some small mystery: a fountain burbling, a statue. At first, I thought it was all beautiful, something I would have enjoyed in another time. I could wake up any time. There was nothing to be afraid of.
I turned a corner and stopped dead in the gravel, staring up at the largest statue yet. An angel and a man carved of stone, locked in moral combat; the angel's beating wings were frozen in mid-air, extended wider than I was tall. The angel looked fearsome, the handsome, cold face familiar. Zuriel. And the man struggling in his arms was familiar, too. Curls fell into his face which was twisted in pain and fear as the blade slipped in under his ribs.
Nimshi.
My first instinct was to turn and run, because this was a strange thing to find here. And yet curiosity grew me closer. It was just a dream. And Nimshi—and Zuriel—were my puzzles to solve, if I was going to protect my mother and my sister and my men. I took another step forward. My foot crunched over the gravel, a loud sound in the quiet of the garden.
The statutes came to life.