by J. L. Weil
I scrambled off the bed. “Zane! Let him go.” If had given me a moment, I could have told him who it was.
“Why should I?” he protested, shirtless, his muscular back gleam in the rising sun streaming from the glass doors.
“Because it’s our wedding night,” I replied, standing behind him. I placed a hand on his shoulder.
His fingers held steadfast, and I thought he might not listen. Seconds gave way to minutes of him staring into Crash’s smug face. His muscles trembled under my hand, barely restrained. “This is the last time you come into this room uninvited. Is that clear?”
“We’ve done this dance before, Death Scythe,” Crash said with a bored look. “You threaten me, and I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
I put my hand to Zane’s chest. “Crash, shut up for once. Next time I won’t stop him.”
Zane let go, and Crash fell to his feet. He huffed, and ran a hand through his unruly sandy hair. “I came to warn you, but I’m thinking I should have stayed home. Being the good guy doesn’t suit me.”
Zane scoffed. “No, it doesn’t. So why are you here? I won’t believe anything that comes out of your ashtray mouth.”
“I might not always be a model reaper, and my methods might be questionable and self-serving, but I am useful, as you will find out.”
“This better be good.” Zane shot him a pointed look.
I had to agree. What could possibly be so important for him to rush over here at the ungodly hour of four in the morning?
“I figured you guys wouldn’t be sleeping,” Crash said, brows raised.
The insinuation in his tone made me roll my eyes. I didn’t know if it made the disruption better or worse. “How did you find out?”
“About your undisclosed wedding or your secret love child?”
Okay, now I wanted to punch him. My fingers clenched at my sides. “Crash, just tell us what’s going on.” My patience was thin.
“After I left Keef’s Reef, let’s just say I didn’t go straight home.”
“You followed us,” Zane concluded.
Crash shrugged, leaning against the wall in his usually nonchalant way. “What’s the point of being a phantom reaper if I can’t be a fly on the wall? It comes in handy.”
“You’re an ass,” Zane said, taking the words from my mouth.
I crossed my arms, annoyed that Crash had invaded our privacy. “He’s worse than an ass. He’s an asshat.”
“What she said,” Zane added.
Cool air washed over us. Good thing. Things were getting heated in my room, and we where going round in circles. I exhaled. “How about we all take a chill pill?” I didn’t think that was actually going to work, but it was worth a shot.
“What do you want?” Zane asked.
“The honeymoon is about to be cut short. My father has caught wind of your holy matrimony.”
“How?” I screeched.
“The fly on the wall,” Zane interposed.
I glanced from Zane to Crash. “You told him?” I threw the accusation at the one person who made sense.
“Would I be here telling you if I had?” Crash countered.
“To throw us off your scent,” Zane theorized, and I was beginning to agree with him.
Crash sounded impatient. “I’m starting to doubt your saving-the-world-skills.”
And I was doubting Crash could ever be trusted. “Fine, say you didn’t tell him. What is your father planning to do then?”
“What else. Tell the council. He doesn’t like being outfoxed. And you my pretty, are becoming a thorn in his side. We need to find the relic. Now. There is movement on the other side. Something big is brewing, and before you ask, I don’t know, but it’s going to be universally epic.”
“Helpful,” I mumbled.
“Enough,” Zane spat. In two long strides, he was in front of Crash. “It’s time for you to go.” Zane wrenched to door open and a blast of lightning struck, glowing up the sky. Rain pelted the balcony, in a bittersweet symphony.
I stared out the doors thinking Crash was lucky he still had a pulse. A little rain couldn’t hurt. It could have been worse. Much worse. And Crash gave me ample to ponder, as did most of his unexpected visits.
Zane was getting ready to toss him out into the storm when a series of knocks pounded on my bedroom door. Apparently, Crash wasn’t our only visitor today.
“Saved by the bell.” Crash was in no position to be a smartass, but it didn’t stop him.
“Oh, I’m still planning on tossing your ass out of here.” Zane’s voice had gone soft and dangerous.
Almost afraid to turn my back on the two of them, the impatient rapping of knuckles gave me little choice. “Behave,” I warned, and then padded across the floor. I flew open the door expecting to see either TJ or Parker come to harp on me about being in bed all day. Hell, even Dean Winchester would have been less of a surprise than seeing the Hunter twins.
“Hey sis,” Zoe squealed, enveloping me into a hug. Her sweet floral perfume transferred onto my wrinkled oversized tee. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have a sister. Growing up with three brothers, there was always too much muscle, testosterone, and general guy stinkiness in my house.”
I loved that girl.
The passing mention of Zander grouped into her three brothers gave me a quick sharp pang of sadness and guilt.
“What are you two doing here?” Zane asked the twins.
“What are we doing here?” Zoe echoed. “What is he doing here?” she asked pointing a slim finger directly at Crash.
“It’s a par-tay. I see you got the invite.” Crash’s voice hinted at amusement.
Zoe frowned. Her and Zach brushed past me as if my bedroom was their second home. Zach was grinning from ear to ear like he was up to no good. And probably was.
“Speaking of invite, big brother.” She poked Zane in the chest, ignoring Crash completely. Neither her nor Zach batted an eye at seeing Zane have Crash by the scruff of his shirt. I was shocked my room was still in one piece. “Where was my invite?” she asked. “It’s my sisterly privilege to see my brother get married,” she pouted and looked cute doing it. Her hair was straight and flowed down her back like a waterfall. I bet even her cry face was attractive.
Zane unfolded his fingers, letting Crash go. “Unbelievable,” he mumbled, combing a hand through his tousled hair. He looked adorably disheveled. “You know we would have had you there if there had been time,” Zane replied, the lines softening on his face.
Sucker.
He had a soft spot for his sister. It was one of his endearing qualities. The family dynamics between the Hunters’ always fascinated me. I didn’t know another family like them. They were close knit despite all the drama. Maybe it was all the death, it made the infidelity, the revenge, and illegitimate child small in comparison to all the lost souls. Regardless, of their dysfunctionality, I was happy to be part of their family. I needed it—to feel loved again.
She gave a little shake of her head. “That’s what dad said, but a quick text wouldn’t have killed you.”
“You’re here now,” Zane said, dropping an arm over her shoulder and giving her an award-winning smirk.
Zoe turned her sad sea-green eyes up a notch. Girl had skills. “I really wanted to be the maid of honor. It’s not every day we have a royal wedding.”
I cringed inside at the word royal.
Zoe and Asypn were the only girl friends I had. It sucked that they hated each other with a passion. It was better for everyone I hadn’t had a big splashy wedding. The catfights I was envisioning were enough to make me glad for my private little ceremony.
“She’ll get over it,” Zach said, his aqua eyes sparkling. “Congrats.” He gave Zane one of those masculine hugs where they bumped shoulders and pat each other on the back. Then Zach turned that boyish troublesome charm on me. “Welcome to the fam, sis.”
The Hunters were huggers.
“Thanks,” I replied, trying not to be weirded out
by the fact I was in my jammies and there was a quickly multiplying gathering in my room. But Zoe had no shame; so I figured, neither did Zach. If they didn’t feel awkward, than neither would I.
Zach bent down and picked up Zane’s discarded shirt off the floor and threw it at his brother who caught it midair, with one hand. “Get dressed, stop showing off your pecs, and let’s celebrate. Where do you keep the booze? There’s got to be champagne somewhere in this castle.”
“We can’t,” Zane shot down, frowning.
“Whoa, I thought marriage life would agree with you. It’s one little drink. I’m not saying we have to get drunk. It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“Funny. That’s not it. We’ve got a situation.” Zane glared at Crash from the corner of his eyes.
“Obviously, because when don’t the two of you get yourselves into sticky messes?” Zoe said, staring at Zane and me before rolling her eyes.
“I think we figured a way that might save all our butts from extinction,” Crash announced.
The room was silent for about two seconds before the questions exploded.
How?
When did you figure it out?
Why aren’t we doing something?
What’s the plan?
“Okay, everyone chillax,” Zane ordered. “Maybe a drink is a good idea, because now I could really use one. Or ten,” he mumbled.
As if my stomach agreed, it growled like Godzilla. All eyes stared at my vocal belly.
“Jeesh, don’t tell me my inconsiderate brother has kept you captive in this room without thinking you might need to eat.” Zoe gave a catlike wink.
“Or drink,” a grinning Zach added.
“She needs food, not alcohol,” Crash said. Somehow in the commotion, he stuck an unlit cigarette in his mouth. It dangled from one side of his lips.
The edges of Zane’s eyes started to darken. “Don’t presume to know what my wife needs.”
Energy crackled through the room. “You guys are going to drive me to drink. And you,” I said to Crash. “Don’t think about lighting that thing in my house.”
Zach was relentless. “Then it’s agreed. Mimosas and breakfast. Perfect. I can eat.”
Zoe elbowed him in the side. “Duh. You’re a bottomless pit.”
What I thought was going to be a quiet day in bed, turned into a three-ring circus. Our hush-hush marriage wasn’t so top secret. Why not take a moment and celebrate what was supposed to be a joyous occasion, or stay here and watch Zane and Crash kill each other with dirty glares.
The wise thing to do was for the five of us to head to the kitchen, eat and brainstorm. Maybe, just maybe we’d come up with a solid plan. It was iffy to include Crash, but it was also an opportunity, and I was an opportunist. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that mumble-jumble. It was to find whose side he was really on.
Zane tossed on a t-shirt, and I slipped on my fuzzy zombie slippers. Still I felt underdressed.
The halls were dark due to the overcast sky, making the usually bright and airy stairwell gloomy. It didn’t hinder us as we made our way downstairs.
Zane and I walked holding hands, both of us needing the contact. His skin was cool against mine, but even though my heart was happy, my mind was plagued with uncertainty. The three musketeers’ chatter echoed off the high ceilings. I needed to do the day-to-day things like eating, but all I could think was there wasn’t time. Shit was about to get real.
My mind was computing and compartmentalizing all the decisions I needed to make when I felt the presence of a reaper. Relying on Zane to make sure I didn’t face plant a wall, I reached out with my abilities to identify who it was and whether I should be concerned. My detection skills where getting better, and after a second or two, my shoulders went lax, recognizing Declan’s signature. It wasn’t a Red Hawk assassin. Someone call the Vatican, because an honest-to-God miracle has occurred.
It didn’t hurt to be overly cautious. I was uptight, always poised for the next hallow attack. I’m sure everyone else was as well. So when Zane stiffened, I didn’t think much about it, not until the collision happened.
Chapter 23
Parker rounded the corner, nose tipped down like he was known to do while reading a comic. My heart jerked in my chest, unable to stop the crash. Parker smacked into Zane. The comic fell to the floor, and Parker’s glasses slipped down his nose, green eyes brimming with surprise.
He scrunched his nose, nudging his glasses back into place. “Uh, sorry.” He bent and gathered his rumbled comic. As he straightened up, his eyes passed over me and landed on Zoe. His whole expression changed. “Hey. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Just got here,” she grinned.
I was getting more comfortable with the idea of them dating. It didn’t make my insides all topsy-turvy.
“Oh.” He shuffled his feet. “Something going on?” He glanced to the small party behind me.
“Parker, what are you doing up?” I asked. Parker had always been a morning person, but this was early even for him.
He shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would read, and then I got hungry. What’s this all about? A reaper convention?”
“Better,” Zoe beamed. “They got married.”
Parker was rendered motionless. They only thing that moved was a stray piece of straw hair slowly falling over his forehead. I thought he was going to go into cardia arrest. “Married?” he echoed.
Zoe nodded vigorously.
He shook his head as if he was clearing the cobwebs. “What? When?”
“Last night,” Zoe sung.
“It just happened,” I clarified. “There wasn’t time to tell anyone. Zoe and Zach only just found out. I’m not even sure if it is safe for you to know.”
His peepers not so disoriented anymore flashed to mine. “That’s something you tell your best friend, no matter what time of the night.”
Zoe slinked between us to stand beside Parker. “That’s what I said.”
“Whatever. Who cares?” Crash interrupted.
My eyes narrowed in his direction, and Zane’s jaw clenched. How hard was it to go and grab a bite to eat?
Zach laid a hand on Crash’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I got my eye on him.”
Crash snickered, clearly not worried.
Zoe weaved her arm through Parker’s. “You hungry?” she asked in an enchanting tone that suggested something other than food.
“I guess,” Parker replied, his head still reeling over my marriage.
Crash thumped Parker on the back of the head. “What do you mean, you guess? When a lady asks you if you’re hungry, always say yes. We’re going to need to work on your game, man.”
Zane snorted.
Poor Parker. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Breakfast with reapers. It should be a movie.
Zoe laughed, her heels tapping along the hardwood as she led Parker along. “You’re too cute for words. I could just eat you.”
“I’m about to lose my appetite,” Zach groaned.
Since there was no need to work in the dark, I flipped on the kitchen lights, and the large room came to life. As expected, it was as orderly as the rest of the rooms in the manor, excluding TJ’s and mine. Stark white floors shined under the soft lights, looking so clean I could see my reflection. The dark granite counters were speckled with flecks of silver, sitting on top of ivory cabinets, identical to the ones lining the walls. The appliances were top of the line and no doubt industrial. Zane headed for the fridge to take stock.
“Can I help?” I asked. Zane was an exceptional cook, when he had the time. I lucked out in that department, but I wasn’t half-bad. The last year feeding TJ had been stretched my skills. I couldn’t care less if I ever made mac-n-cheese again. TJ would agree.
Zane glanced at me over his shoulder. “I got this. You take a seat. Eggs? Or French toast?”
“Both, pretty please,” I grinned.
“Coming right up.” He reached in the fridge, grabbi
ng eggs, milk, and an armful of other ingredients.
“So, when am I going to be aunt?” Zoe asked, making herself at home in the kitchen beside Parker.
Zane’s head whipped around so fast, I thought he was going to pull a muscle.
I choked. The thought of getting pregnant never crossed my mind, but after the things we done last night, anything was possible.
Zach slid a cheeky grin, rocking back on his heels. “Uncle Zach. Hmm. It has a nice ring to it.”
“Uncle Parker, huh. I like it.”
My mouth dropped. Parker too? When did he become Team Zanper? “It’s been like six hours,” I reasoned.
“Plenty of time to get a bun in the oven,” Crash supplied, grabbing two cans of soda.
“Girl, I missed your wedding. There is no way I am missing the birth of my niece. Got it?” She pointed a pretty fuchsia nail in my direction.
I leaned my hip on the counter and rolled my eyes. “I pinky swear you will be the second person I tell.”
Zane was shaking his head as he cracked eggs into a bowl. Bacon was already sizzling on the stove, flooding the air with salivating scents. “No more talk of babies. Not until my stomach can handle it. We have more pressing matters, anyway.”
Coffee. I needed a caffeine kick. Pushing off the counter, I went to the cabinet to pull down the coffee. We were going to need an econo-size pot. “And we will get to them as soon as I’ve had my caffeine jolt,” I said.
“You got dark roast?” Crash asked.
“I’m a coffee connoisseur. Asking is an insult.”
The kitchen began to fill with all my favorite scents of breakfast. There was something homey about having a full house of people. It made the manor feel less cold and formal, more like a home. Conversation was kept light while Zane finished cooking, and it made me wish it didn’t have to end. I sighed. The only way I could ensure there would be many more breakfasts like this, was to find the relic…if it existed.
There was so much wrong with everything, but sitting in the kitchen, eating a French toast and bacon with family and friends was the only good thing in my life. A dose of reality was a bit sobering.