by Patti Larsen
“They kept me asleep,” she said. “I remember waking up now and then, but that was it. And Sunny.” I expected Meira to burst into tears, but instead she scowled. “I remember Sunny.” Her amber eyes lit up with her anger. “She was there, Syd. Tried to touch me once. I heard her voice, felt her. She’s a traitor and I hate her. And when I get to kill Nicholas, I’m going to kill her, too.”
Sheesh. Bloodthirsty. My demon approved, so I knew at least it wasn’t out of character as much as it made me wince. Besides, she was right, so there wasn’t much I could say about that.
I tucked Meira into bed with Sassy right next to her. She refused to let him go and he made no move to leave her. His glowing amber eyes watched me as I left them, door wide open, and went downstairs to talk to Quaid.
He still stood in the kitchen, hands in his pockets, leaning one hip against the counter.
“Is she okay?”
I shrugged. Sighed. “I think so. Wants to go on a vampire slaying binge. I had no idea she was so vicious.” It made me laugh a little before I sobered. Problem with imagining my sister killing vampires? She wasn’t like other little girls. Given the right circumstances, I’d be afraid for the undead. Instead of dwelling on it, I went on. “Sassy was a mess too. But they’re settled, so hopefully…” I left it at that. My sister was pretty tough. She didn’t have a mark on her, the blow from Nicholas already healed. And from the sounds of things they hadn’t hurt her prior to his little fit of temper. She’d probably been through worse just being a part of the family.
“I think we should talk to your dad.”
I perked up, hope suddenly alive again. Why didn’t I think of that? My hopeful bubble shattered when I remembered how he hadn’t been able to help find Meira. Still, he’d want to know what was going on, would be frantic for news.
He had the right to know his youngest was fine and his wife probably wasn’t.
I left Quaid upstairs on guard and descended the stairs into the semi dark. I shivered in the cool damp of the basement, but warmed quickly as I summoned Dad. He shot into his statue like he’d been sitting on the other side just waiting for the invitation.
“Syd,” he came toward me, hugged me hard. “What’s going on? Where is your mother?”
I filled him in on everything, including Sunny’s betrayal and Mom’s orders. Dad wavered between fury and despair.
“I can’t help,” he groaned at last. “There’s nothing I can do on this plane, Syd. I’m not allowed to interfere in demon form.”
“You did with Cesard.” That wasn’t fair. I knew it.
“That was a different situation,” he said. “You summoned me, yes. But I had to deal with a prisoner. You and I broke a few laws that day, young lady. But the Demon Lord council let it go because I returned Torsh to them.”
I hadn’t known my little door opening act had stirred up trouble. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He gripped my arms and shook me just a little. “I was, and am, so very proud of you.” His intensity made me shiver. “There is so much of your life I don’t have access to. You have no idea how crazy it makes me that I can’t be with you full time.” He dropped his hands. “Especially in cases like this when your mother needs me.”
“There has to be something you can do.” What was the good of having a Seventh Plane Demon Lord for a father if he was helpless here on earth?
He looked about as frustrated as I felt. “I know,” he said, as if reading my mind. “Not much help, am I? I’m trapped in this statue,” he looked down at himself with real regret, “and in the pentagram. The only other option is for me to come over all the way. To be mortal.”
I knew right away that was a bad idea. “Your demon magic doesn’t come with you, though.”
He sighed so sadly I wanted to hug him. “Not most of it.” His gaze met mine. “Enough I might be able to help. But to what extent, I don’t know. I can feel her, at least. We reinforced that connection after the Moromonds attacked. But as to where she is…” He paced the basement, handsome face a mask of frustration. “What was she thinking?”
There was nothing to say to that. We had Meira back.
Mom did what she had to.
“You can’t cross over.” There was no way. Mortal meant vulnerable and I couldn’t lose both parents. “So now what?” I hated that I knew he would leave and I’d be left to deal with this. It was obvious I wasn’t the only one.
“Give me some time.” I saw how desperate he was to help, how his face crumpled in anxiety. Dad was usually really good at hiding it, just like Mom, a way to protect us, I guess. I reached out and squeezed him as hard as I could.
“It’s going to be okay, Dad,” I said.
He hugged me back, cheek resting on my chin. “I’m going to call on some favors. There might be a family loophole I can take advantage of. If I can cross as a demon, I’ll tear them apart. If not… we’ll work it out, cupcake.”
“Mom’s tough,” I whispered into his chest.
“She is. It’s part of the reason I fell in love with her. And what do you know? She passed it on.”
I cried and giggled at the same time. Dad wiped my tears, his own concern hardening into decision.
“I’ll be back,” he said. And left.
I know he wouldn’t want me to, but even though he was working on it, I still went upstairs to worry. I filled Quaid in on Dad’s situation as I fetched some sheets and a blanket from the linen closet for him. I even gave up one of my pillows. He stood there in the dark next to the sofa and just looked at me.
“Not now,” I said softly. “I just can’t talk about anything yet.”
He reached for me before I was done talking. “Syd,” he said. “I know. It’s okay. And it’s going to be. Your mom…” he let out a breath into my hair sending shudders through me. “Miriam is the smartest, strongest, most amazing woman I’ve ever met. She’ll be fine. We do have to trust her.”
“While we look for her,” I mumbled into his T-shirt.
“Exactly.” He pushed me back and smiled down at me. “As for our talk… when this is over.”
I nodded, so grateful I hugged him again. Kissed him. Just a sweet, small kiss but enough to make me believe he was right.
Just knowing he was downstairs was enough to calm me to the point I actually fell right to sleep.
***
Chapter Twenty Five
I woke up to a sunny morning and the realization it was Tuesday and I had to go to school.
Screw that. I rolled over on my right side and looked at my book bag. Just the thought of dragging myself to that miserable hole yet again for another day of ritual avoidance by my former friends wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to heap on myself right then. I’d been tough last week, but now, with Mom missing and everything going to hell?
They could keep it.
Someone messed around in the kitchen. The sound of pots and pans being shuffled indicated the perpetrator had no intention of being quiet about it. I reached out to find out who it was and remembered in a flash who slept on my couch the night before.
Quaid. Was he making me breakfast? Really?
Okay, that was something to get out of bed for.
I peeked in on Meira and found her still sleeping. Sassy lay curled up next to her, staring at her like he was scared she would disappear again. He glanced up as I approached.
How is she?
Bad dreams, Sassy sent. But the normal kind. I’m watching her.
I know. Thanks. I’ll bring you up some breakfast?
He settled his chin back on his paws, eyes fixed on my sister. Later.
I made a quick trip to the bathroom and found a ponytail and a vigorous face washing did a lot to erase a night full of the wrong kind of excitement. I brushed my teeth extra hard, trying to convince myself I had to because plaque was the enemy, not because the guy I was now pretty sure was my destiny waited downstairs for me.
Three steps down I heard a knock at the kitchen door. I picked
up speed, hoping it was Erica, then shook my head. She would just walk in, not knock. Who could it be?
Someone, presumably Quaid, opened the door before I cleared the hall. I heard his deep voice say, “Football.”
Whoops.
I careened around the corner and into the kitchen to see Brad standing there in my doorway, glaring at Quaid who adopted his familiar smirk.
But it wasn’t Quaid’s annoying smile that had Brad turning red in the face and his hands forming fists. It was the fact the tall, lean and very attractive Quaid stood in my kitchen in just his jeans.
That was enough of a distraction I came to a halt, my mouth hanging open, staring at the lovely muscles making ripples across Quaid’s stomach and the way his lean body curved across his broad shoulders, how his narrow hips peeked out from the top of his waistband and how no one alive could possible have bare feet that sexy and live.
Did I mention the pentagram tattoo? I think I had drool on my shirt. Yup. Drool.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Brad’s voice cracked. It snapped me out of my eye feast and into reality.
“What does it look like?” Quaid glanced at me, mischief in his eyes. And winked.
Oh crap.
Brad lunged for him just as I surged forward, coming between them just in time.
One hand on either chest. Chiseled blonde versus molten chocolate. I was in huge trouble.
“My mom is sick,” I said quickly, blurting the first thing that came to me. “Quaid is just staying here so I won’t be alone.”
Brad finally looked at me. “Is she going to be okay?”
I didn’t plan on the tears, but they came anyway. “I don’t know,” I said, completely honest.
All the fury went out of him. He backed off a step. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been such a jerk to you lately. I didn’t know your mom was ill.”
I remembered suddenly he lost his to cancer when he was little.
“Thanks,” I said.
Quaid didn’t move an inch and I was very aware of his skin under my hand, the crawling joy of his power over me, the heat he radiated.
“I hate to be rude,” I said to Brad, “but what are you doing here?”
He shrugged like a lost little boy. “I wanted to see you. Maybe drive you to school?”
“Brad,” I said gently. “It’s three blocks.”
One sneaker scuffed the floor. “I know. Then I saw his bike,” his rage snapped up for a moment, “and I had to make sure he wasn’t bothering you or something.”
“He’s not,” I said. “But thanks for thinking of me.”
He nodded. Didn’t move. It was really, really awkward.
“Don’t you have somewhere to go, Football?” Quaid was not helping. I glared at him before turning back to Brad.
“I don’t think I’m going to school today,” I said.
He bobbed his blonde head, green eyes full of hope. “I could stay, keep you company?”
“She has company.” Quaid moved forward, pushing against me, which in turn shoved Brad backward out the door.
They exchanged a very barbaric moment of scowls. Boys.
“Call me, okay? About prom?” Brad just had to get his own dig in.
“Sure, I will, bye.” I hated to slam the door in his face. Hated to. But there was no other way to make him leave.
I spun and pressed my back to it. Waited to hear his footsteps retreat, the rumble of his truck engine as he climbed in and drove away.
“That was awful,” I said.
“Prom?” Quaid’s right eyebrow quirked.
Double crap.
“Um… yeah. Guess I’ll have to do something about that.”
Quaid’s smirk wasn’t so annoying anymore. “Guess so.”
Okay, back to his chest. And feet. And the tattoo of a pentagram on his right bicep. The way his collarbone rounded to the smooth skin of his…
“Quaid,” I said, throat thick.
“Yes, Syd?” His dark eyes couldn’t have been more bottomless.
“Go put a shirt on.”
He laughed. But he did it. And I wished I hadn’t said a thing.
The morning was quiet, punctuated by feeding Meira and Sassy before taking Gram some breakfast. She seemed really off, distracted, not her usual mercurial self. I was used to her giggling evilly one minute and looking like a mournful child the next. But whether she was really aware of what was happening or not, she just sat there in her room, a frown on her face, staring out her window and muttering things I couldn’t understand.
I had just set down her tray when she grabbed my wrist.
“You need to give it back.” She looked so fierce and determined I was actually afraid. She’d never asked for whatever it was she was looking for like this before. “I need it. For Miriam.”
“Gram,” I said softly, working her hand loose. “I don’t have it. I’m sorry.”
For a moment her scowl held before melting. “You don’t?”
I shook my head, stroking her wispy white hair. “I don’t.”
She nodded and went back to her muttering.
I turned to leave and saw Quaid standing in the doorway, watching.
He didn’t say anything until I close the door and resealed the wards. It was clumsy, the job I did, but would hold.
“What did she want?”
“I don’t know,” I said, going back to the kitchen. “She’s been asking the same question forever. Do I have something for her.” It triggered a faint memory as I said it, of how personally familiar her power felt when I walked through her shield at the site. I shook it off. Of course it felt that way. She was my grandmother. I let it go with a sigh. “She’s nuts, right?”
He didn’t say anything, just glanced back at Gram’s door like something wasn’t right.
True enough.
“I’m going to run home for some fresh clothes,” he said. “I’ll just be a minute.” He hesitated by the door, helmet in hand.
“I’ll be okay,” I said.
He nodded. Paused. Came to stand beside me. Bent and kissed me. Kissed me again. Put some power into it. My hands found his neck, then his hair. My demon purred and welcomed him in, the tingle of him traveling from my very happy lips through my cheeks, down my throat and to some very private places.
He finally pulled away, face hovering over mine. “Be right back.”
I tried to talk, but couldn’t.
Damn, I hated that he knew it.
The sound of his motorcycle engine had just faded as I started off to take a shower, a long, cold shower, when someone knocked on the door.
Brad. Had to be. Bet he waited somewhere close by until he saw Quaid leave then came back. Yes, it was over an hour later. I really had to find out how to sever our connection before the poor boy was seriously hurt.
Imagine my surprise when I pulled open the door and found Alison standing there.
Man, did she looked pissed. Before I could open my mouth to say anything, she jumped right in as if she’d been having this particular conversation with me in her head and finally had it the way she wanted it.
“I used to think you were really nice,” she said. “That you cared about people. That feelings mattered. You put on a great show, Syd.”
I was floored. “What did I do now?”
Her blue eyes snapped fire at me, even through the contacts. “You don’t even know, do you? How hurt he is? How much he cares about you? You don’t give a crap about anyone but yourself.”
Had to be Brad. What did he tell her?
Her tone really bothered me. Here I was facing a major family crisis, my mom at risk. And she had the nerve to bring this crap to my house?
“Maybe you and your little pack of back stabbers should just mind your own business.” I hadn’t meant for all that venom to pour out on her. I really didn’t. But I couldn’t help it. She flipped a switch and I was on.
She looked like I slapped her and she wanted to return the favor. “You did not ju
st say that to me,” she hissed. “You did not. Who’s the back stabber, Syd? You abandon all of us, why? Because all of a sudden you aren’t the center of attention anymore?”
“I’m not the one who always wants the attention,” I said. “And maybe if you guys had stuck up for me instead of letting that jerk Benjamin ruin everything we wouldn’t be having this little talk.”
“Oh no,” she said, “we would. I’m grateful for Benjamin. He showed me who you really are.” She was so angry she shook. “Selfish, self centered, arrogant and just pure mean. Thanks for proving him right, Syd.”
“Go to hell.” I could not take her accusations right now, especially since they were the same ones I wanted to fire at her. My temper snapped, my demon roared her outrage and I drove the last nail in to the death of our friendship. “And take your stupid, pathetic friends with you.”
Alison turned very red before going sheet white.
“Screw you, Syd.” She stomped her way down my driveway to her car and I just simmered and watched her go.
***
Chapter Twenty Six
By the time Quaid returned, I’d lost the edge of my anger and the need to tear things apart and was further along the road to bawling my eyes out.
He took it all in stride, his chest the perfect place for me to pour it out.
When I was done, he looked down into my face, fingers swiping at my tears. “You cry a lot,” he said.
Jerk. I whacked his chest with my fist, feeling the solid muscle beneath my hand. “Thanks a whole lot,” I said, pulling away even as he chuckled and hugged me again.
“Just practicing,” he said. “For later. You know. When we’re an old married couple.”
That thought didn’t make me cringe anymore.
Still. He was a jerk. “How did this turn into such a mess?” I wished I could fix it. That he could. But I knew I probably just ended my friendship with Alison permanently because of my temper.
“What do you have against Benjamin, anyway?” Quaid sat at the kitchen table. I joined him, slumping over with my head in my hands.