by Jenica Saren
"Er... I guess so? Was I not normal?" Okay, that was a trick question. Most of society didn't consider strippers people at all, let alone normal people.
All six guys turned to face each other simultaneously, looking like they were having some sort of silent, telepathic conversation amongst themselves. Hell, they probably were. I was about to open my mouth to say something snarky about being right fucking there when I heard something.
...Sin is just like hers...
My mouth dropped open and I gaped at the six of them like a fish, probably the least attractive I had ever looked in my entire life. And that was really saying something, considering that one time in Vegas...
"I knew you guys were talking in your heads!" I shouted accusingly. I whipped around to face Eliam again, but way too fast, because I accidentally knocked my head against his chin and it hurt like a motherfucker. "Owwww!" I rubbed my head, knowing that it was about to give me one hell of a headache. The stupidly attractive Brit, on the other hand, didn't look at all phased, and that bugged the shit out of me.
They all turned slowly to look at me with wide eyes. Apparently, I was right and not hallucinating again, if their expressions alone were anything to go by. And if I deduced correctly, which I was positive I had, I was also not supposed to know this. Just a week of living with a bunch of guys and I was already ready to punch each one of them in their stupidly incredible jaws bones.
Eliam started to move me off his lap and out of his arms. I opened my mouth to protest, but he shushed me with just a look. Damn that rat bastard. Once I was sitting on the, admittedly cold, tile floor by myself, Eliam stood and turned to his brothers, his face set into a cold, hard mask, as though he was made of pure stone. "We need to talk." He ground out between clenched teeth. His eyes darted over to me briefly. "Alone." He clarified.
Each of the guys nodded in agreement but said nothing, causing my heart to contract painfully. The men who once defended me, stood up for me, rescued me from a psychopath preacher, they were all freezing me out, and I didn't want to admit that I could audibly hear the sound of my heart crumbling all over again.
As all six of them stood and filed out of the room without so much as glancing in my direction, I fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down my cheeks with no indication of ever stopping. Once they were all out and I heard a door close behind them, however, all bets were off. The tears flowed freely and silently, making me wonder where they were actually coming from. I was a really ugly crier, that much I could admit.
Did that mean the wound was too deep? Too sharp? Like a cut from a sharp piece of glass that takes awhile to bleed because your body doesn't realize it's been injured?
A small sound escaped me that sounded something akin to a small, wounded animal and I clamped a hand over my mouth as quickly as I could. I needed to get the hell out of the stupid house that had turned my life on its head. I stood quickly and was impressed once again by the lack of vertigo I was expecting to experience. As I grabbed my keys from the counter and sprinted through the open front door - "open" is a relative term, it was actually blown clean off, but semantics - and made a mad dash for my car, I couldn't help feeling like I felt different.
Well, duh, you just leveled an entire house. How about an award, Einstein? Ah, there was the inner self that I loved so much (she thought sarcastically). Her sudden appearance did make me take pause though, as I was climbing into the driver's seat of my car. I tugged the collar of my pajama top up a little, protecting myself against the cold of the early morning. I didn't want to think about it, I didn't want to focus on it, I didn't want anything to do with it. And honestly, I was seriously starting to doubt exactly how worth it the Severin brothers actually were.
You didn't do any of this for a bunch of guys and you know it. My inner self chastised.
Okay, that was true. I was only in this town to begin with because I was a coward who ran when things got hard or scary, but my sense of self preservation had kept me going strong thus far. It had kept me safe, secure, and confident.
So, the way I saw it, I had two choices: I could stay and fight my gut, which had never led me astray, or I could trust myself to do what I needed to. There were equally hefty pros and cons to each side of my own ultimatum, and I knew that choosing would be almost impossible.
Before I even knew what I was doing, my car was in drive and peeling out in a circle over the gravel driveway, no clear destination in mind and no idea what I was going to do when I got wherever I was heading.
* * *
I ended up right at the beginning, where this whole mess of an adventure had started in the first place. I pulled into the parking area behind the coffee shop and put my car in park. I sat there for a completely undetermined amount of time, trying to get my brain to play catch up with my actions. I had no idea why I came to the coffee shop, but there I was, nonetheless.
I decided, finally, that I had two options now.
I could sit in my car forever in a state of numbness and confusion, much the same way I felt the first time I arrived here.
Or I could put on some damn normal clothes and go get some fuel for the day. And by fuel, I mean coffee.
Deciding on the latter, I climbed into my backseat and rummaged through my emergency bag, which held several spare sets of clothes, toilet paper, breath mints, bar soap, and bobby pins. It was a remnant from my days after leaving home, when I had nothing at all but the bag on my back. I swore then, that I would always be prepared, and I haven't regretted it since. The pajama predicament was a very good example of why.
I finally selected an old red checked flannel that had the sleeves cut off, a pair of boyfriend jeans with studs on the back pockets, and a pair of my old, worn out, black combat-style boots. If it works, it works, right?
After shimmying into my clothes using a trick I had learned when I was homeless, I got out of the warmth of my car and ran my fingers through my absurdly messy hair. When something pricked my finger, I pulled my hand away and looked at it, seeing tiny little shards of glass.
Another reminder of whatever had just happened overnight at the Severin house.
I shook myself, refusing to think on it, and started trudging my way around to the front of the building. Once I had made it inside, it was like I could breathe again - nevermind, I was just unintentionally inhaling the coffee fumes like the nutcase that I was.
I spotted Drea's messy brown hair below the counter, so I walked up and pulled myself up on top of it, right next to the display case with all the yummy pastries in it. A display case which I opened and kidnapped a poor, defenseless blueberry muffin from. It never stood a chance.
Drea chose the moment that I moaned around a bite of the berry-goodness of the muffin to poke her head up. "You could have just asked, you heathen!" She said, exasperated. She gave me a pointed look and I only shrugged in response.
"It was right there, ripe for the taking." I told her without an ounce of regret. Who could regret a muffin this good anyway?
She rolled her eyes and leaned a hip against the counter, obviously deciding that my antics weren't worth the fight. "I'm glad to see you feeling better." She said in a softer tone. A slight tremble in her voice betrayed how worried she really was about me after the incident at the club and my heart melted a little.
How could I leave her? In such a very, very short amount of time, Drea had become one of the best friends I could have ever asked for or dreamed of. She was kind, loving, understanding, funny, and grounded. I could never imagine her betraying me or trying to hurt me. I also never felt like I couldn't open up to her. "Better is a relative term." I mumbled, staring down at the muffin that had looked so appetizing just moments ago.
I glanced over at Drea, her eyes filled with concern. "What happened, Ria?" I felt like she knew exactly what had happened. Well, maybe not exactly, but pretty damn close.
"Do you have alcohol right now?" I asked her, feeling suddenly exhausted. Drea nodded and reached under the cou
nter, revealing to me a bottle of beautiful, beautiful tequila. I wasn't really a day drinker, but it was a special occasion. After twisting off the top and taking a couple of huge, burning swigs, I turned to look back at my friend, concern etched into her gorgeous face.
I looked around at the small clusters of people gathered around the mismatched tables. There weren't many people here, but enough that I took pause at discussing the events of the night. I spotted an infuriatingly familiar face and tried to keep my blood from boiling.
It was the pushy red-headed guy from before and he looked more terrible than before, if that was even possible; his eyes were huge and puffy, his chubby cheeks stained red and snot was pouring, disgustingly, out of his nose.
"Whats wrong with him?" I asked Drea out of curiosity. Not because I cared, but because I was a nosey bitch sometimes. Okay, all the time.
"His mom is in the hospital. She has that illness thats going around and is in a coma." She whispers back to me. "Sanya isn't a very nice person. She likes to con people out of their money and leave them to the wolves."
I couldn't say I felt too bad, given my own family issues and lack of empathy toward the slimeball of a boy. Knowing his mom was just as shitty explained a lot, though.
"Tell me about the illness while I see how long it takes to finish this bottle." I told my best friend, holding up the bottle as if in victory. I was already feeling the effects of the harsh liquor, and that made me feel a bit better. It made me start to forget a little.
21
Kellan
I filed out of the kitchen after my brothers, trying my best not to look at Ria and see the heartbreak in the striking emerald depths of her eyes. It fucked with me more than she knew, but what had just happened was too important to ignore. Too dangerous.
Once we had all made our way into the study on the opposite side of the house and closed the door, Eliam turned on us all, his eyes blazing, but he wasn't the first to speak.
"What the fuck just happened?" Rafe all but growled. I had noticed his wooden sculpture had made a nice sized hole through the kitchen wall, so it was understandable that he would be upset. Well, understandable for Rafe.
Eliam turned his gaze on our brother, his eyes illuminating the way they did when his power was trying to seep through. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to know? I've never had to do what I did on a mortal and you know it."
"How are we going to explain any of this to her? She's in denial right now, and that can only be detrimental." Gray said from the corner of the room, where he lounged in an aged recliner chair.
I leaned back against the wall nearest me and examined the worn, stressed faces of my brothers. No one knew how to handle a situation like this in the first place, but our undeniable connection to the alluring blonde made things more complicated, along with the fact that she was our responsibility since Eliam saved her life with his own essence, his own Sin.
Eliam looked like he was only seconds away from ripping his own hair out, and I understood the feeling all too well. "She didn't even have to look, E." I told him. "She utilized her Sin without even knowing it was there. This isn't good."
"You think I don't know that already?" He shouted back at me, his vividly illuminated eyes all but shooting lasers at me. "She shouldn't have been able to do that, and I don't understand." Ah, there it was. He had tried for so long to contain his Sin, to not let it define or control him, but Ria seemed to have weakened his resolve in the short time she'd been near him.
I understood the feeling all too well.
We all sat in silence for far too long, each of us entangled with our own thoughts and fears. None of us had any idea what the situation meant for us, much less the poor woman that had been dropped into our world with no sign or warning with which to prepare herself with. But, on the other hand, I had known from the beginning that there was a certain kind of attraction that we all had to her, not specifically the romantic kind, but the celestial, magical kind.
"What should we tell her?" Beck asked while pacing a moat around the coffee table.
Gray sat up a bit straighter, the wheels in his head turning. "Before the kitchen incident? I believe she could have handled it." He pointed out. "But now, I don't think she'll cope very well with everything. She'll see herself as a freak."
All of our faces wrinkled in disgust at the same time. Gray had the most knowledge about these sort of things, seeing as he had married, and confided in, a mortal woman. The only one of us to go that far. We knew our fates, and as such, the fates of any mortal we let too close.
"She's different." Gatlin growled, spinning to face Gray.
"That may be so." Eliam interjected diplomatically. "But we still don't know how she's going to take any of it. It's a threat to us."
Gatling whirled on our purple-eyed brother, his fury evident in the sharp, silver glow of his eyes. "What the fuck are you suggesting?" He snarled.
"I'm just suggesting that we find a way to fix this," Eliam defended. "With as few casualties as possible."
"And without chasing her off." I added before I could stop myself. Not that I really cared whether they knew how much I cared at that particular moment.
It looked like everyone had something to say all at once, and I was was ready to argue or agree, depending on what was said, when Gray sat straight up, eyes wide. "She's gone." He whispered those two words, but we all heard them clearly.
I hadn't really noticed all the white noise in my sixth sense until that moment, when everything suddenly cleared, and I cursed up a storm. I wasn't going to lose one of the only people outside of my family that meant anything to me, that made me feel.
"Gray, can you sense her? Where is she going?" Eliam snapped the question, perhaps being a bit too harsh, but I understood his concern.
Gray nodded. "Yes, she's heading toward town."
"Drea." I said as five sets of eyes swiveled in my direction. "She's going to the coffee shop, where Drea is." Ria was drawn to the sweet, curly-haired woman the same as me, feeling the same pull. She was like an anchor in a raging sea, keeping us from going under, being a point of safety and stability.
* * *
By the time we had made it into town, I was getting a sick knot in the pit of my stomach. I knew what the result would be if Ria didn't take the information well. I couldn't stand the thought of her being hurt, but I also couldn't tolerate the idea of the madness that could consume her or the destruction that could rain down on humanity if she lost control. I had learned long ago that control was not something that could easily be regained.
We all piled out of the Jeep and I walked around the back hatch to let Beck out. There were only five seats, and he had drawn the unlucky straw, as usual. He shot me a glare as he stumbled out and stretched dramatically. "Sucks to suck, dude." I smirked.
After delivering a mock punch to my shoulder, he took the lead and started inside the coffee shop. I could never say that I was prepared for the sight that awaited us inside, but it was certainly not the most surprising thing I had ever seen - no, that was topped by finding a half-naked woman in my kitchen in the middle of the night.
Ria was standing on one of the tables with a karaoke microphone in one hand and a bottle of clear liquor in her other. She was singing a song that I didn't know, and she was surpisingly not all that bad, just a little off-key, which I was sure was due to her inebriated condition.
"Ria!" Eliam thundered. It struck me then, that I had no idea what her full name was. Judging by my brothers' mirrored looks of confusion, they had just come to the same realization.
She turned and looked at us then, grinning hugely and waving her half-drank bottle in the air in greeting. "Hey guys! Look!" She called, spreading her arms wide in a gesture at the small crowd of people that were standing around and cheering at her. Only Ria could make a stage out of nothing. "I made some new friends!" Her words were slurring, but she still seemed mostly coherent. Just a little bit happier.
Gatlin stormed up to the table she
was standing on and her eyes went wide. "Come on, we need to talk." He growled at her.
She shook her head, her long blonde locks flying. "Nope!" She said, popping the P at the end.
When she jumped off the table and tried to take off running, I was there in an instant, grabbing her around her waist and walking toward the back of the building. As she beat on my back halfheartedly from her upside-down position, I looked at Drea and inclined my head toward the storeroom. She nodded and went back to cleaning, acting like I wasn't carrying a grown woman over my should who was acting like a toddler.
Once in the storeroom, I set Ria on her feet. Well, I intended to set her on her feet. What actually ended up happening was I tried to set her down and forgot she was drunk for a moment, so she stumbled and then fell flat on her sexy ass.
"Owwwww!" She whined, glaring at me.
I only shrugged and stepped aside as Eliam walked toward her. "We need to have a chat, love."
22
Ria
To say I was pissed would be a massive understatement. I was pissed that the guys would just up and abandon me, I was pissed that they had the audacity to come and manhandle me, and I was pissed that I was way too fucking toasted to properly be pissed. As Kellan dropped me hard on my ass - the asswad - and all six guys converged in on me, I felt the rage I was feeling rise in my chest, like an angry beast rearing its head.
That was bad enough, but when Eliam stepped ahead of the rest while declaring our need to chat, self-proclaimed leader of the gang, the beast let out an angry roar. Okay, I let out an angry roar, which sounded a lot more like battle cry of a wounded mouse.
I took a swipe at him, intending to slap him hard across the face for the second time since we'd met, but I misjudged the distance and my sense of balance due wholly to my highly inebriated state. I tumbled over, and tried to catch myself, but ended up catching a large handful of someone's clothing.