by Davis, L. C.
"He said he's tired of hiding."
I scoffed. It was an automatic reaction where anything related to Dennis was concerned, but I needed to find a way to curb it since I was sharing an apartment with the guy he was dating. "I'm sure he did. I take it he's still being his new and improved self?"
"I haven't seen him much lately," he said guardedly. "I bailed on our date the night of the festival because of Locke, and Locke has my phone, so I haven't had any way of contacting him since I've been here. I doubt he'll even want to talk to me when we get out of here."
"He will." I didn't have the heart to tell him that if this Dennis was anything at all like the one I'd always known, he was probably too busy to notice Holden was even gone. "I hope you're okay with being his arm candy at every town function for the next few years."
"Our relationship isn't public. I'm not even sure it counts as a relationship, and you don't know he's going to win the election."
"I do. He always gets what he wants."
The front door opened and fell shut, making us both jump. It was anyone's guess why Locke chose to use the door sometimes and pop up at random others, but given his habit of slamming doors, I wasn't sure which habit was more annoying.
"Hello, my pets. I come bearing gifts."
The demon was balancing a box of pizza in one hand and a milkshake in the other. At least, that was his euphemism for the blended mystery meat concoction he brought me every now and then. I didn't ask questions and tried not to think about it too much. Locke was officially my dealer, only instead of getting high, my fix was feeling human.
Holden more or less dove off the couch and snatched the box from his hand, flipping the lid over to reveal a pizza topped with the works. Locke passed the unmarked Styrofoam cup off to me without a word, watching Holden in judgment. "You could say thank you."
Holden's mouth was already full, but he flipped Locke off.
"You did kidnap us," I reminded him, trying to resist the growing urge to drink. Like it was somehow less weird to crave brains if I was casual about it. "Give the Stockholm Syndrome a while to set in."
"Drink up, Daniel," Locke said in a cloying tone. "Wouldn't want to spoil your appetite by eating our houseguest. And technically, I didn't kidnap you, I'm just holding you hostage."
"A difference without a distinction," I muttered, taking a sip from the cup. It wasn't the taste I craved so much as the instant change that came over me when the concoction hit my stomach. Feeling started returning to my hands and feet as I drank and once I started, I decided getting it over with was the best option. When I looked up, Holden was watching me and seemed a bit less enthusiastic about his pizza. He looked away quickly, but I could already tell what he was thinking because the same thought kept echoing through my mind. I really was becoming a monster.
"Now that you're both fed," Locke began, "I'd like to make an announcement."
Holden and I exchanged a worried glance.
Locke pressed his fingertips together, clearly eating up the attention--or maybe just the nervous energy that accompanied it. At least now I knew why he never had to eat. He fed on us, our fears and all the chaos he stirred up in our lives. "I had a meeting with Lucas, and it went just perfectly. He was a bit cranky, of course, but that's to be expected," he said with a dismissive wave. "We came to an understanding, and it was all very diplomatic."
"Good for you. You took advantage of a man who just lost his son," said Holden.
"See, this is why witches should be seen and not heard. Must you always ruin everything with your negative attitude?"
"Wait," I said, afraid to let them get started since they rarely stopped once they did. "Exactly what kind of understanding did you and Lucas come to?"
"Oh, just a little real estate transaction. I mean, I need somewhere to keep my Whore and the seven seals," he said, counting off on his fingers. "Let's see, I've got you, then Nick, and another one will be along shortly."
"Roll back for a second. I'm not part of this ritual bullshit."
He scowled. "We've talked about this, Daniel."
"I didn't think you were serious!"
"Wait, what?" Holden turned to Locke. "Please tell me you're joking. Daniel can't be one of your seals."
"I know he's a bit of a fixer upper, but we're not in a position to be picky," Locke scolded, looking me over. "Trust me, he makes up for a lack of polish with the raw materials." He shielded his mouth with his hand and whispered, "His dick is huge."
"Locke!" Holden snapped. "Daniel has been through enough. I'm not letting you drag him into this, too."
"Oh, that's cute. You say that like you have a choice in the matter."
"The hell I don't. I'm the one you can't replace, but if you do anything else to fuck with Daniel or Nick, I'll --"
"You'll what?" he taunted. "Twitch your nose and turn me into a frog? Remember, I'm the middleman to your magic now. You can't do anything without going through me first."
"I can turn myself in to Michael."
Locke's face fell. "You're bluffing."
"Try me, Fancy Feast."
"That's enough," I groaned. "Look, I'm not happy about it, but if Locke needs a zombie for his ritual, it's better if it's me. The last thing we need is him going around raising a harem of the undead."
"Hm," Locke mused. "That has a nice ring to it."
Holden looked between the two of us, frowning. "You don't have to agree to this, Daniel."
"I know, but I'm volunteering." I grimaced when I realized that sounded a bit too enthusiastic. "For the sake of keeping the peace."
"Perfect!" Locke chirped. "It's settled, then."
"What exactly did I volunteer for again?" I asked warily.
"For a prestigious role in the most delightfully salacious prophecy there is," Locke said with an air of gallantry.
"You volunteered to be one of my concubines," Holden said, folding his arms.
"Well, that, too," Locke agreed. "But the way I put it sounds so much better."
"Yeah, but we don't actually have to..." I trailed off, realizing there was no safe way to phrase fucking my best friend's mate.
"Just once," said Locke.
"When ?" Holden asked in a clipped tone.
"Calm down, eager beaver. Not until I've assembled all the seven seals."
"From where?" I asked.
"Don't worry your pretty little heads over the details," Locke said, folding his arms. "It's nothing that'll be finished overnight."
"How long? Weeks, months?" Holden asked hopefully.
"Three, give or take. Of course, the lunar phase has to be just right for the ritual stage to be set properly. It's all boring technical stuff. I'm so glad you two have had the chance to get cozy," he said brightly. "Otherwise, it might be awkward."
"Yeah. God forbid," I said flatly.
"You got what you wanted. When can we see Nick?"
"Oh, right. Him," Locke said boredly, waving his hand. At first, nothing happened, but a moment later, Nick came bursting through the door. He scanned the room but his eyes fixed on Holden and I tried not to let it sting when the werewolf threw his arms around his mate and lifted him off the ground, seemingly oblivious to my existence.
"Are you okay?" he asked, digging his hands into Holden's as he looked him over for injuries.
"I'm fine. Pissed, but fine," he said, making a startled sound when Nick kissed him. I looked away. Guess he'd overcome his hangups about dating a guy a bit sooner than I'd thought.
"You'll have to get used to it if you're going to live in my whorehouse," Locke said in a knowing tone. I glared at him, knowing full well he wasn't talking about the PDAs so much as the jealousy coiling in the pit of my stomach.
Nick looked in my direction, but he stayed where he was. He let out a breath through his mouth, like he was trying not to breathe through his nose. "Daniel."
"Hey."
He took a step forward and stopped, looking me over like he didn't quite know what to do with me. "You really a
re dead," he murmured.
"Sorry." I regretted the word as soon as it was out of my mouth, but it seemed like an automatic reaction to the way he was looking at me. "About Brent," I added. Nice save.
Nick's gaze fell to the floor and he nodded. "I'm glad you're..." He trailed off and never finished that sentence, but I knew why. I knew him well enough to finish most of his sentences, and the word that had been on the tip of his tongue didn't come close to describing my situation. I was a lot of things now. Dead, cold, different. Okay wasn't on the list and it probably never would be.
"Yeah. Thanks for not ripping me apart. I heard that was a possibility."
"We're aggressive towards the undead," he mumbled. "Vampires mostly. Zombies, too, I guess. You're the first one I've met, but it's nothing I can't handle. It's still you."
That last part came out like more of a question than I felt he meant it to. I snorted, desperate to change the subject. "Hold off on deciding you're not going to kill me until you know everything."
Holden's eyes widened and I almost regretted saying anything, but the entire situation was weird enough without adding secrecy to the mix.
"What else is there to know?" Nick asked, looking between the three of us.
"So much drama," Locke said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to have to get over the false modesty if this little arrangement is going to work."
"Arrangement?" Nick asked, grimacing when he seemed to put the pieces together. "Please tell me you guys aren't talking about that fucked up ritual."
"Daniel volunteered," said Locke.
"Thanks, asshole." Nick was looking at me like he was closer to ripping me apart than laughing it off over a beer, so I added, "I figured you'd rather it be me than some random guy Locke raised from the dead and probably killed for the occasion."
Nick hesitated, still looking a bit rippy with his fists clenched at his sides and a wild look in his eyes. Rather than taking his anger out on me, he turned to Locke and had the demon pressed against the wall with his hand wrapped around his throat before I could blink. "You're on my last fucking nerve, pretty boy. I'm starting to think you've got a death wish."
Locke tried to pry Nick's hands off his neck, but there was genuine fear in his eyes. "You can't hurt me. Remember what we talked about," he said in a strangled singsong. "I can always find another werewolf."
Nick's grip loosened a little, but I could still hear the growl rumbling in his chest. "I imprinted on Holden."
"Which would make the whole sordid affair even more awkward for you both if I had to call another dog in to take your place."
"What is he talking about, Nick?" Holden demanded.
"Nicky and I came to a deal," Locke said with a strained grin. "The ritual calls for a wolf..."
"Nick! Whatever he promised, he's a liar. You can't trust him."
"You think I don't know that?" he snapped. It was the first time I had heard him raise his voice to Holden, and I could tell he regretted it immediately, but the damage was done. He released Locke and the demon staggered to his feet, rubbing the red marks on his pale neck.
"Tell you what," Locke said, seeming mostly recovered if a bit flustered. "Why don't I send you lovebirds away on a little trip? It's the least I can do."
Holden frowned. "What?"
Locke snapped his fingers and Holden and Nick disappeared. "That's better. It was getting a bit crowded in here."
"What did you do with them?"
"Relax, I just sent them home," he said, snatching the bottle of champagne off the table before he draped himself across my couch. "Werewolves are temperamental, and being around the thing thousands upon thousands of years of evolution have conditioned him to hunt isn't helping. They'll fight, they'll kiss and makeup, and everything will be back to normal in the morning. Pizza ?"
"No, thanks," I muttered. The kissing and making up part was the final nail in the coffin of my appetite. I paused as a question that had been plaguing my thoughts ever since I'd learned about the ritual surfaced. Curiosity finally won out over the awkwardness. "Can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?"
"If you need Holden to be a virgin for this ritual, aren't you worried about leaving them alone?"
Locke grinned. "Like I said before, Nick and I came to an understanding. I know you're a grumpy old man, but there are other things that can be done without breaking the seal, so to speak."
"Right," I said, reaching for another beer. Just as I'd thought, I wished I hadn't asked.
Twenty-Seven
HOLDEN
Nick didn't say a word for most of the evening, save for asking me if I had eaten. Given the dour circumstances, I was a bit embarrassed to admit I had. I was still warring with myself over whether I should go back to my place, since it had been Locke's decision to send us both back to Nick's apartment, when he came back from whatever he had been doing in the kitchen.
"Let me see your hand," he said, dropping a box of bandages on the coffee table. I held it out, still annoyed that obedience was my default setting when it came to him and it took conscious effort to override it.
"It's fine. Daniel already took care of it."
"I'm sure he did."
"Nick --"
"I know," he muttered, unwinding the gauze around my palm. "I just found out my best friend is the only thing I have a greater natural aversion to than demons and he's my romantic competition, let me be petty and irrational."
I must not have done as good of a job of hiding my surprise as I thought, because he gave me a look. "I know it's not Daniel's fault, and the non-reptilian part of my brain can recognize that Daniel's doing this for me, not to me," he said, proving he was far more aware of the situation than I had given him credit for. "I also know I'm a caveman under the best of circumstances, but this is a lot to take in."
"I know," I said, feeling a fresh wave of guilt wash over me. "I hate that either of you are involved in this at all. I hate that you're stuck with me, and I hate that I can't change it."
"Hey," he said, growing somber as he cupped my face in his hand. "I'm not stuck with you."
"You imprinted on me. It's the same thing."
"If you think that, it just shows how badly I've fucked this whole mate thing up. It's not a curse, Holden, it's a gift."
"Yeah, being bound to a demon's whore-witch. You really hit the lottery."
"It's not about what you are or what you do. You could be a fucking serial killer and I'd still feel the same way about you."
"Right. Because you're every bit as brainwashed by this werewolf magic thing as I am, just in a different way." I realized that came out wrong too little, too late when I registered the hurt in his eyes. "I didn't mean --"
"It's okay," he said, taking my hands in his, careful of the cut on my palm. "I used to feel the same way about imprinting. That's why I railed so hard against it. As soon as I started shifting, I knew there would come a day when I met the person who changed everything. Back then, I saw my mate as this burden hanging over my head, ready to scramble my brain and take away my free will at any moment."
"You were right," I said quietly.
"No, I wasn't. Sure, what I felt that first time I saw you was intense. I had no idea what I was in for, even after hearing all the stories of how the other wolves in the pack imprinted on their mates, but I didn't lose myself the way I thought I would," he said, raising my hand to his lips. "All those years I spent trying to cram in as many experiences as I could before I found you, and I've never felt freer than I do now that I'm bound to you. When I found you, I found the thing I'd been afraid of losing for so long. I don't care if it's chemical or spiritual, I just know I wouldn't trade you for anything."
My eyes burned with unshed tears as I listened, willing my lips to stop twitching. "Even though I'm the Whore of Babylon?"
He gave that husky laugh that always turned me to a simpering puddle of shamelessness and pressed his forehead to mine. "I don't care if you're Satan himself. You're mine."
; I let out the breath I had been holding and it trembled on the way out. "I'm scared, Nick. It was one thing when this prophecy was just a weird memory, another messed up part of my fucked-up past. I could put it in the back of my mind and pretend it was just like all the other crazy things my parents believed, but now that I know it's real? I try not to think about it, but sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and all I want to do is run and never stop, but then I remind myself that I can't. That it doesn't matter how far I run because Locke is just part of it. The thing I really want to run from is something I can't get away from. It's me and it always has been. There's never been part of me that existed outside of this, and I feel like it's going to swallow me whole if I let it."
"Then we won't let it," he said earnestly. "We'll find a way out of this."
"I gave myself to him, Nick. It's permanent. Locke won't let me go."
"He will."
There was a strange look in his eyes, bordering on guilt, and it brought Locke's cryptic remark to my mind. "What did you do, Nick? You made a deal with him, didn't you?"
"Not a deal," he said gruffly. "We just came to an understanding."
My heart beat a little faster. There was that phrase again. "What kind of understanding?"
Nick's eyes finally met mine, full of resolve. "I don't like the idea of sharing you with anyone, and I hate admitting this even more, but Locke can protect you."
"From Michael?"
"Michael, your father, and everyone else who wants to get their hands on the harbinger of the apocalypse," he muttered.
"How long were you talking to him?"
"Long enough to realize he had a decent argument. He also told me that if we both cooperated, he'd let you go once he gets what he wants out of the ritual."
"And you believed him ?"
"I don't really have a choice. Everything else he's said has been true."
"Half-true! You saw how he tricked me with Daniel. He brought him back, but not the way I wanted. There's always a price."