I picked up more records in clear cellophane. The date said late 1892. Neat. “They’re a symbol painted on a surface, with a drop of my blood in the middle. They keep the dead out of the house. Well, that and the betony that Rory planted around the house,” I explained absently. Nothing, it was just a will. I moved on.
“Betony?” Marvin asked.
“Yeah, it’s a flower. It keeps the dead away, along with salt, black salt, tar water, some sage to create a barrier…” I trailed off as I opened a small book. Inside was scrolling handwriting.
“And that works?”
“Yeah. So does Hades.” I turned the page.
“Hades?”
I scratched my baby’s ears. “He can see the dead and they’re scared of him. It’s something about his breed.”
“Where did you find this information?” he demanded.
I looked up and met his eyes. “One of my friends is really good at research.” I went back to the book in my hand.
“Huh.” He grunted. “It seems you're doing better with the Sight than anyone so far.”
I stopped scanning to meet his eyes. “Well, that’s because it’s not the Sight.”
He frowned at me. I was starting to think that was his usual face. Like resting bitch face, except his was resting frowny face. “What?”
“My abilities? They’re not from the Sight. It’s… something else.” I put my nose back in the book.
“What is it?” he demanded.
I sighed. “It’s Necromancy. The Sight is just seeing, being a witness. To interact with the dead, that’s Necromancy.”
“How did you find that out?” he growled.
“A witch told me,” I hedged and kept reading. Nothing. It was one of the men’s journals, and he was an only child. I set it down and kept looking through boxes. “Basically, they kept having trouble because they were working with the wrong information.”
“And you’re sure you’re working with the right information?” he countered. I raised my head as something occurred to me.
“Did Amelia ever mention a Witches Council?” I asked.
He scowled at me. “No, never.”
I nodded. So, they might not have killed my grandmother. That was a small relief.
“She’d never done anything strange,” he told me.
“Except see the dead?” I countered as I picked up some photos.
“Yeah, except see the dead,” he said. I started going through photos just because they were in the box. A redheaded woman was standing with a younger Marvin. I held it up. “Is that her?”
Marvin looked up. His face slightly softened. “Yeah, that’s my Milly.” He went back to his stack. “How are your grades?”
Taken back by the question, it took me a minute to answer. “Um, good. I was on Honor Roll last semester.”
“Good. Got any college plans?” he muttered.
“Art school - at least, I’m hoping to get accepted,” I said awkwardly. Was he trying to get to know me? “I’m planning on being a tattoo artist.”
“You’re an artist?” he asked, his voice softening around the edges.
“Yeah.” Silence filled the room as we continued searching. I set down the stack of photos and grabbed a fresh stack. I froze. Dad. A younger Dad, but still, it was him. My eyes burned and filled. I took a shaky breath.
“What?” he demanded.
I shook my head. “Just… found Dad.” My voice was small. “When we lost the house, my mom wouldn’t let me take any pictures of him.” I bit the tip of my tongue, forcing the tears back. I flipped to another picture.
“Take them,” he told me gruffly. “There’s no point in them sitting in a box in the closet.”
I looked up and met his eyes. “Thanks.”
He nodded. I started sorting Dad’s pictures out of the rest. We worked in silence for an hour more before I decided something.
“You know, Tara is pretty smart,” I began. “She’s on the Student Council, the dance committee, even the cheerleading squad.” He said nothing. I put everything back in that box, closed the lid, and moved on to the next. Screw subtle. “You should stop by and meet her.”
“She’s not my granddaughter,” he stated.
I raised my head and watched him. Seriously? “She doesn’t know that. All she knows is that she’s never met her grandfather.”
His gaze snapped to mine. “She doesn’t know?”
“No.” I started looking again. “And I’m sure as hell not going to tell her.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.
“What is?” I asked directly.
“Rory, not even having the stones to tell her she’s not his.” He closed the box he was working on and opened another.
I eyed him. “Yeah, it’s unbelievable. Wanting to protect your daughter by keeping a secret. Doing everything you can to make sure she’s happy, healthy, and doesn’t feel different or unwanted. How dare he?” My sarcasm was so thick you could practically see it.
He turned to me. “It was his choice not to have kids, he has to deal with the consequences.”
“What pisses you off so much about Rory’s vasectomy?” I asked. I was going to die soon, I had nothing to lose here. His face was dark as he met my eyes.
“Milly gave everything she had for those boys. And he just threw it away,” he said, his voice hard. “That’s what I can’t forgive.” He went back to searching.
I gaped at him. “Yeah, ’cause watching his sister die was so easy. He should have just sucked it up and watched his daughter die too. Who in their right mind would want to avoid that?” I shot back. He grew still. I went back to looking. The room was quiet for another hour before he closed his last box, got to his feet, and headed for the door.
“You know, I have an expiration date,” I told him without looking up. “A lot of things suck about it, but I’m still kinda lucky in a way. I know what matters to me. My friends, my family. I don’t have the luxury of holding grudges because I can die any day. So, I do my best every day to make sure they know I love them.” I looked up over my shoulder at him. “I know my expiration date. Do you know yours?”
He walked out of the room. I went back to work. It didn’t bother me; I had come here without a grandfather, I’d leave without one. No one needed something like that in a short life. I continued searching and only found more pictures of Dad. So, it wasn’t a total waste of an afternoon. I put all the boxes back carefully, and then started down the hall.
“Strong kid?” Marvin’s question had me stopping in my tracks.
“Yeah, strong as hell,” Rory answered, his voice hard.
“Think she’ll get past thirty?” Marvin asked. There were several heartbeats of silence.
“If anyone can, she can,” Rory said. “But… she’s showing signs already.” The roughness in his voice made my heart hurt.
“She’s got Henry’s mouth,” Marvin pointed out.
Rory snorted. “Yeah, she curses like a sailor. But she sounds like Mom when she argues. It’s uncanny.”
“I noticed,” Marvin admitted. “Why is she with you?”
“After Henry died, Lisa started drinking, moving them around a lot,” Rory explained. “She started doing drugs. She was already treating Lexie like dirt, but it only got worse. Lisa beat the crap out of her. She’s been charged and is waiting in jail since she can’t make bail.”
“You need a lawyer?” Marvin asked.
“No, I’ve already got one ready to keep her in red tape if I need to,” Rory admitted. “We’ve only got a few months left.”
Silence fell. Hades started moving towards the great room. Rory was on the couch, Marvin in the recliner.
“I didn’t find anything,” I admitted before holding up the stack of photos, “except more photos of Dad.”
Rory got to his feet. “Sorry, kid. We tried.” He headed for the door.
“Thanks for the photos,” I said before Hades and I followed. Marvin took up the rear. On the po
rch, Rory turned to his dad. “Thanks for letting her look.”
“No problem. Listen…” Marvin swallowed hard, “keep in touch.”
Rory looked as if he’d been hit in the back of the head with a board. “What?”
“Keep in touch. I want to know how she’s doing,” Marvin told him. The stunned look disappeared.
“Yeah, sure.” Rory’s voice was hard again. I moved down the stairs and towards the truck. Rory followed. Hades was already in the back of the cab when Rory climbed in. He was quiet all of the way home.
I pulled up to the twins’ house and shut off the truck. Rory had ordered a pizza and wanted to watch sports with Hades. Tonight was Miles’ birthday at the twins’, and I was starving. I hurried up the steps and went inside. The smell of heaven hit my nose. If I could, I would have floated after the scent to the kitchen like a cartoon character. Zeke was in the living room, spread out on the couch. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t snoring. Grinning, I walked over and carefully dropped my ass on Zeke’s stomach. He grunted, opened his eyes, and glared at me.
“What the fuck, Lexie?” he snapped. “There’s a chair right there.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to sit on the couch,” I shot back with a grin. One of his hands went to my lower back. His muscles flexed under my butt, surprising me. I looked at his shirt before reaching down and feeling the thickness. It was thinner than his usual shirts. “Did you work today?”
“Yeah,” he growled. “Now, get your ass off me.”
“Are you going to stop hogging the couch?” I asked sweetly.
“I was here first,” he countered.
I leaned back against the sofa and rested my hands behind my head. “Ahhh. Comfy.”
Zeke’s eyes had a small sparkle a second before he grabbed me and pulled me down to lay on him. I was laughing as he moved an arm around my shoulders and locked me against his chest.
He closed his eyes again. “Now, stay still.”
I laid my head down on his chest and listened to his heart beating under my ear. “Okay, I can sleep,” I muttered. It had been a long day and I didn’t get much sleep last night. And he was pretty comfy. Fingers lifted my chin. I opened my eyes to meet those sky-blue ones.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yeah, just a long day.”
His eyes were warm as they ran over my face. “Let’s get some caffeine.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What? No nap?” I teased. His arm loosened, allowing me to get up and climb off him. Zeke heaved himself to his feet and I followed him into the kitchen.
It was chaos. Asher and Maria were chatting back and forth as they moved around the kitchen. Ethan and Miles were at the kitchen table watching the show.
“Hey, Lexie,” Ethan said.
“How was your afternoon?” Miles asked as he scratched his arm above the cast.
Zeke headed for the fridge.
I shrugged. “Rory took the afternoon off and took me to see some family.”
The guys shared a look before turning back to me. “You have more family?” Miles asked carefully. Zeke came back to the table and handed me a soda. I took it gratefully.
“I’ll explain later,” I promised as I popped the top and sat down. “So, how are you two feeling?”
“Not bad,” Miles said.
“Banged up,” Ethan added. “Though not as bad as before that back rub. Thanks, Beautiful.”
I smiled. “No problem.” I looked around the kitchen again. “Where’s Isaac?”
“Upstairs,” Ethan stated. “Something’s off with him.”
“Well, he does have the fight tomorrow,” I pointed out. “He’s probably nervous.”
Ethan shook his head. “I’ve seen nervous; this isn’t it.”
Worried, I got up. “I’ll go see if I can talk to him.”
“Good luck,” Ethan called as I left the kitchen. The rest of the house was dead silent as I walked up the stairs and stopped at Isaac’s door. I knocked. No answer. I opened the door slowly. Isaac was sitting on the floor, his back against his bed. The evening sunlight glowed against the drawn curtains giving barely enough light to see. I made my way over and sat next to him.
“Hey, Cookie Monster.”
He didn’t say anything, he just continued staring at the wall. I took a closer look. The bags under his eyes were even darker, his face was pale, and his eyes listless. His hair was oily, and the room had the faint stench of body odor. His entire body was practically shaking with tension. In short, he looked like shit.
“I’m sorry about today… are you feeling okay?” I asked quietly as I eyed his face stubble. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. I noticed his knuckles. They were bruised, and the skin was scraped off a few knuckles. Where did those come from?
“Fine,” he grumbled.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” I asked, hoping to get him to talk.
He didn’t answer. Okay…
“Dinner will be ready soon,” I offered. If anything could get him out of his room, it was food.
“Can you leave?” he asked so quietly I barely heard him.
I blinked at him. “You want me to leave?”
He turned to me, his jaw clenching. “Yeah. I don’t want to talk. Not everyone feels the need to gab like you and Ethan do.” He turned back to stare across the room. I blinked at him. What the hell? Something was wrong. An odd shadow moved over his neck, probably from the light in the hallway.
“Okay,” I said, stunned. Isaac never spoke to me that way. Something was very wrong. Worry knotted my gut as I sat with him in silence.
He turned his head to look at me again. His amber eyes were cold and hard as they met mine. “Get. Out.”
“I wasn’t talking,” I pointed out. “I just want to be here for you—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” he snapped. I was taken aback. His face was like stone; cold and unyielding. It wasn’t like him. Yeah, everyone had bad days, but this…
“Alright, you don’t have to be a dick about it,” I muttered as I got to my feet and left his room, closing the door behind me. I stood in the hall trying to understand what just happened. He was rude, downright mean. Isaac was many things, but mean wasn’t one of them.
I started for the stairs. Halfway down, Miles, with his arm in a sling, met me on his way up.
His gaze ran over me. “What’s wrong?”
“Um, I think something is wrong with Isaac,” I whispered.
His eyes softened. “Why’s that?”
“He was rude. Not just rude, he was mean when he told me to leave,” I said. Yeah, saying it out loud, it seemed like I was overreacting. But a small part of me was telling me I wasn’t.
“That’s strange,” he said. “What did he say?”
I was being ridiculous. I shook my head. “You know, he’s probably nervous about tomorrow and he’s not sleeping. That would make anyone cranky.”
Miles looked up the stairs. "There was a car accident." He met my eyes. "It could have brought on flashbacks."
Shit, I hadn't thought about that. "Shit." Now I felt like an asshole.
“I’ll talk to him,” he assured me.
“But first…” I pulled Miles' present out of my pocket and handed it to him.
Miles smiled as his ears turned pink. “You didn’t have to,” he told me as he began to open the wrapping paper.
“It’s your birthday,” I reminded him. “Yeah, you got in a crash. Your car is totaled, but it’s still your birthday.”
Miles pulled off the last of the wrapping paper and smiled. “Lexie, it’s beautiful.”
My face grew warm. “It’s okay…”
He met my eyes. “I love it. Thank you.” Everything else faded away. Miles stepped up to my step.
“Um, I should…” He swallowed hard as his gaze ran down my face to my lips and then back to my eyes. My heart raced, my skin hummed.
“I’ll, um, head back down to the kitchen…” I whispered.
<
br /> He blinked and looked up the stairs, his ears were turning pink. “I’ll go check on, um, Isaac.”
I moved down a step. “Thanks. It’s probably just me.” Miles headed upstairs while I went down.
It wasn’t long before I was in the kitchen listening to the guys talk about… something. I wasn’t paying attention. Isaac was probably nervous about his first fight back. It was nothing. Then why couldn’t I get the weight in my chest to ease?
Miles came down in time for dinner and sat next to me. “I talked to him. He was tense but seemed alright,” he reassured me. Huh.
“Then I’m probably being too sensitive.” I gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.” We went back to dinner. Everyone was talking, laughing, telling jokes, but I was worlds away and playing with my food. Chile rellenos was Isaac’s favorite… Stop. Miles said he seemed fine, so he was fine. I forced myself to eat past the knot in my stomach before Zeke noticed I wasn’t eating.
I was quiet all through dinner and clean up. It wasn’t until we were all out back on the porch enjoying the cooling air that someone got my attention.
“So, what did you do today, Ally?” Asher asked from his perch on the porch railing.
“Well, Rory took me to see my grandfather. He wanted to see if my grandmother left any info around,” I announced. I suddenly had everyone’s attention.
“How did that go?” Miles asked carefully.
I shrugged. “I got some pictures of my dad, but that’s about it.”
“That sucks,” Ethan said.
“At least you have more photos now,” Miles offered.
“I’m not really torn up about it,” I admitted. “But I am a little pissed that he’s never met Tara.”
“Why’s that?” Miles asked.
“He knows she’s not Rory’s, and he refuses to be her grandfather because of it.” I shrugged. “He was an odd piece of work.”
The guys shared a look.
“What?” I asked. They grinned.
“You said something, didn’t you?” Miles asked. I made a point to look anywhere but at them. They chuckled.
I turned back to them. “I may have said something,” I muttered.
They kept chuckling. My face warmed. It took a while for them to calm down.
When Evil Comes To Play (The Veil Diaries Book 5) Page 22