by Sariah Skye
The three of them glanced at each other, and started laughing. “Yes, Ava—you did. We’ve all seen it. And I saw it again today. You wonder why Deano didn’t attack you? Because he literally couldn’t see you. Or your dog.”
I blinked. Once more. Twice. Three times before the realization finally dawned on me. “So that’s what I’ve been doing? I actually am invisible?” I snorted. “Explains so much…”
Bash threw his head back in a hearty laugh. “No, you’re not actually invisible. We see you quite clearly. But you have the ability to make yourself not be seen. It is an amazing ability.”
I wanted to speak. To protest…say something but nothing came out but a strangled gurgle. Because I knew they were right. It made so much sense now.
“What if you didn’t actually know you had this ability? Or you did, but…didn’t want to admit it? Could it, say…manifest itself in other ways? Like, on dates with jackass men who sit on their phones all evening long instead of talking to you?” The wheels were turning inside my head as it all came together.
“I can’t see how anyone could possibly ignore you…” Trystan said with a cheesy grin. “But, if you didn’t know this ability existed and didn’t know how to control it, there’s no telling how your magic would react. Maybe, deep down inside you knew the guy—”
I snorted, cutting him off. “—guys.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “Oi, luv. Guys then. Maybe it was your magic, subconsciously protecting you.”
I looked away from them…trying to fully grasp this revelation. So, it was true. I really did have this ability, and I could admit it now. I always thought I was a bit crazy. Or cursed.
Despite the strange ability, I always wondered if there was just something unlikable about me. I was ugly, I was boring…
…turns out I really was invisible. Like really…truly. And I wasn’t just a colossal ass or something!
A wide grin spread across my face as I turned to them. I must have freaked them out, because they appeared a little unsettled. All three of them.
“Is this a good thing?” Xander questioned carefully.
“Good? Well, I finally have answers! This—this is great!” I exclaimed, jumping out of the chair excitedly and clapping my hands together.
“That’s good…but you still need to be careful, luv,” Trystan said. “You could be forced by someone to use these abilities for things you might not want to do, if you get caught by a Collector.”
“Swarthy was a Collector. No one knows quite who or what they are; just that they try to find supes from all over the country. The world, even…and bring them wherever. Once caught, they’re never seen again,” Xander said, leaning over to extend a comforting hand on my knee. “That’s why we brought you here. We have wards. Fences. Bears. They keep most things out. We can protect you here—if you want. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
I started to speak again, and promptly clamped my mouth shut.
Well, that escalated quickly.
CHAPTER 10
The pizza was delivered a short time later, and my stomach was thrilled about it. Turned out, I forgot I hadn’t eaten at all today. The three men looked pretty surprised when I quickly scarfed down three slices, before they’d even finished one. Hey, what can I say? It was good pizza.
While we ate, the three of them filled me in a bit more about their backgrounds; each of them just as compelling as the next.
Trystan—or, his actual name Drystan Munro—hailed from the Scottish Highlands in the 1600s. He was one member of a small circle of--of all the surprising things—eagle shifters. Were-eagles. Mother-flippin’ men that could shift at will into golden eagles. Part of the clan Munro years ago was made up of eagle shifters, though he claimed it wasn’t limited to his clan; but he wasn’t sure which other ones were. It was kept a secret. And they were born that way; not made or created. Apparently, one of the rival clans captured Trystan in his bird form and he was forced to change into an incubus. The curse prevented him from shifting to his eagle form again. The look in Trystan’s eyes when he explained how it’d been centuries since he’d taken flight, and observed the world on eagle’s wings nearly broke my heart. The only ability that remained was his telepathy with animal-kind.
Apparently, it was all a ploy to gain an advantage over the clan. Take out the advantage that the Munros’ had. Of course, none of this was in the history books, he assured me. It was a time when many people were tried for witchcraft. Turns out in this instance—it was true.
Sebastian—Bash— was from around the similar time. Being a poor boy from a colonial, destitute family in Massachusetts in the late 1600s, when he was approached by a beguiling, beautiful young woman. The mere thought of any beautiful woman talking to him caught his attention, especially for promises of riches, he quickly obliged. He was told he’d have his pick of any woman in the village when before, he had no prospects. He was only a lowly blacksmith’s apprentice. The spell made him more attractive, appealing. Then of course he learned that all magic came with a price, and his price was never actually having a real relationship, just lots of meaningless sex. Bash, because of the healing tinctures he made for various members of his village to help heal things like menstrual cramps, headaches, and hysteria, was eventually tried as a witch during the Salem witch trials, and was meant to be executed. Of course, he didn’t die—but Bash didn’t elaborate further, the topic was clearly not one he wanted to reflect on.
Xander was the youngest of the bunch, born in the 1850s. His given name was Jian Jiao Xiang. He had a freakish ability to channel the weather. Which he tried to keep hidden, but several prominent people in his home village learned of his talents anyway, his father quickly whisked him away to America—California—to seek riches in the age of the California Gold Rush. Since he had a rather large family of three brothers, one sister, as the oldest brother he was responsible for helping make the family money.
His father and he lived in caves, and dirty wooden hovels until his father was approached by a mysterious masked woman. He was offered gold for his son, and was sold to a life of slavery. All the while, having to keep his powers a secret. The curse was performed on him, and he was required to cater to the whims of all the new wealth owners that would strike it big. With his appealing incubus nature, he was a novelty to men and women alike—though he was required frequently to beguile the wives of prominent fortune owners. His “owner” would take bribes for their wives’ indiscretions after being seduced by Xander, until he was rescued by a gentleman named Thomas Alexander around 1900. Thomas took him away from California—to Minnesota—away from the slavery. He also set him up with enough funds to give him a proper home and schooling—all for nothing in exchange. Wanting to start a new life, Jian took a new name for himself: Alexander or ‘Xander” which partially resembled his original name. After Xander was settled and safe, Thomas disappeared, and was never heard from again.
No one wanted to touch much on Mathias past; claiming that was up for him to divulge. Even though he seemed tough on the exterior, he had a sensitive soul. Being a gladiator, forced to kill for sport caused him guilt. When tempted to change into an incubus—Mathias didn’t even hesitate. If it meant he wouldn’t have to kill, he could do anything. He didn’t know quite what he had bargained for.
After the people in his past died away, and the Roman Empire fell, Mathias began hiding away in the mountains; traveling to new places for new conquests and an antidote for his curse. He never found the antidote, but he did find Trystan, hiding in the Highlands after a battle. It would have been a long time for Mathias to of been alone.
I felt pangs of sympathy in my chest at each of their stories. As much as common sense told me to disbelief everything they said; as much as I wanted to dislike them, I couldn’t. Each one of them was genuine, and kind.
Except for that whole using-women-for-sex thing. That was a bit off-putting. But, it wasn’t their fault. It was just the idea of them together with someone that mad
e me a bit daft inside.
My heart and mind were doing an outrageous dance with each other; neither wanted to listen to the other. My mind wanted to tell me how insane all this was. It was hard to believe. A Roman Gladiator? A remnant of the witchcraft craze? A slave from the Gold Rush era? A damned shifter from the Scottish Highlands?
What the hell?
Now, they lived here, rescuing wild animals that were harmed; took in special cases from around the country. Oh, and apparently the occasional lost supe (aka me). They currently had a three-legged bear in a cave at the edge of the property, another bear mama and her cubs, wolf pups that had been orphaned, their parents shot by hunters, and countless smaller creatures like raccoons, foxes, squirrels—and they all got along, because Trystan made sure of it. They were apparently thankful to them all.
Hence, Roman Rescue. Must have been Mathias’ idea. I grinned at the thought. The animal rescue was a good cover, and Trystan’s ability to chat with the wildlife kept nosy people—and nasty Collectors—away. The animals—and Bash’s wards—kept many a nosy salesperson or nasty supe away. Aside from this, they stuck to themselves, mainly, and ventured out only when necessary. Like when they needed to associate themselves with the company of a female persuasion
My nose scrunched up, my fourth slice of pizza now sat on the black square plate that rested on the arm of the chair. My stomach roiled, but not at the idea of the delicious pizza—but again at the thought of any of these men having to have any kind of relations with anyone that wasn’t me.
I grumbled to myself at the thought. I’m jealous because guys I just met were having sex with women—tons of women. That’s when I had an epiphany that both delighted and disturbed me at once.
“Hey…so if you’re major homebodies—and so am I, not that it matters,” I added quickly, with a smile of false innocence. “What were you doing out at the Stargazer that night? Were you picking up—” I swallowed a disgusted lump down in my throat, “—women to bring to bed? Because of your curse?”
Xander, Bash and Trystan all raised eyebrows at each other.
Bash cleared his throat first and spoke, setting the double-decker slice of bacon pizza on a plate in his lap. “It’s not what you think, Ava…”
“Aye, we weren’t there to pick you up,” Trystan assured me.
“Oh. That’s…good,” I said hesitantly, picking at the burned edges of the pepperoni slices on my pizza.
“Though, if we’re being honest…we wanted to. In fact, when Trystan found you, we were arguing—Bash and I—about who would get to take you home,” Xander said, with a bashful grin. “Just because we have this curse doesn’t mean we don’t find women attractive; doesn’t mean that we desperately wish there was someone out there we could just settle down with, and have a life.”
“A normal life,” Trystan added, his voice bitter. “It’s bittersweet, luv…being able to have any woman you want, but not truly being able to have her. Knowing that if you’re with her all the way…you could harm her heart and ruin her soul. So, you give it up—sacrifice your own happiness to spare all others. It’s what you do, even though you don’t want to.”
My expression fell, crestfallen at the pain in his voice; the pain was also apparent in the eyes of the other two. “Have you…fallen in love? With anyone?”
“We don’t allow ourselves close enough to anyone for it to happen. The heart can only break so much before it turns to dust and you’re left as just a shell; an empty hourglass full of hopeless dreams and broken promises,” he said sadly.
Bash cleared his throat uncomfortably, reaching for his pop that rest on the end table next to him. “But, we weren’t there specifically for that. We have figured out how to go a long…long…long time without that. Long time.” His eyes widened, and he appeared temporarily uncomfortable, before Xander punched him lightly in the arm. I giggled, which made them both smile; their discomfort eased. And that made me happy. “There is something going on at the Stargazer.”
Xander nodded abruptly. “Something very wrong. It seems to be attracting supes. And sometimes, the wrong kinds of supes.”
“The ones that have no problem victimizing an innocent human for their own selfish needs,” Trystan said. “Sebastian had been monitoring both Brynn—that’s the faerie—and Nick for some time. The fact that you just happened to be there was…coincidence. Though, all supes seem to end up there eventually. Not quite sure why.”
I gave Bash a suspicious look. “How do you monitor them?”
Bash snorted, laughing off like it should be obvious. “The same way you’d stalk an old boyfriend.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t stalk my old boyfriends…”
Bash rolled his eyes lightly. “If you did…you’d do what we all do: social media.” Bash pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, tapped on the screen, and handed to me. “I have a compiled list of all known supes, that are up to no good.”
“How do you know, though?” I asked, gently scrolling up and down the screen with a fingertip. “Nothing about them looks particularly…off.” My eyes widened, when I landed on a familiar face. “James?”
“Who?” He asked, and I waggled the phone up, with a profile photo of James, the bad date Summer had set me up with the other day. He glared. “Ah, him. How do you know him?”
I let out a gagging noise. “Yet another bad date. Fucker sat on his phone the entire time and completely ignored me.”
Bash quickly grabbed the phone from me, standing by my side as he studied it. Letting out a low whistle he shook his head at the other guys. “Good thing he ignored you. He’s been high on our list for possible Collectors for some time. We think he’s a dark warlock, but don’t have enough proof.”
“Him? A warlock?” I snatched the phone back from him, and scowled at his face. He was handsome, yes, but totally not my type. Kind of thin, very light blonde hair, and eyes so dark they were almost black. Unnaturally black. But nothing about him—not his polo shirt or thinning hair—screamed evil supernatural in my brain. “There’s no way.”
“Ah. See the eyes. First indication that someone is messing with dark magic. Evil magic. It’s unlikely that someone this pale would have eyes this dark; it happens of course, but not often. And you see how his irises are slightly bigger than the average iris?”
I peered at the photo. I just thought it was strange lightning but now that he mentioned it… “Yeah, I do see it. Not much…but it’s there.” Now I couldn’t see anything else.
“Warlock.” Bash let out a low whistle. “How did you meet him?”
I shrugged. “My best friend keeps trying to set me up with guys. They never work out, because they are giant dickholes, and just never notice me. They either stand me up entirely, or ignore me while we’re out. I actually ended up leaving this giant shitpile of losersauce after about forty minutes of trying to get his attention.”
Xander rose, standing next to Bash, peering over his shoulder at the phone. “It must have been your magic—your stealth—keeping you protected. It sensed the darkness in him and sent out signals to make him disinterested.”
I started to speak, but I let out a squeaking noise instead. “How can I do that without even knowing I can?”
“Very easy. Magic always innately protects itself. Since it’s inside you…stands to reason…” Trystan interjected. He scratched at his chin, making a rough noise as his fingers scratched against his auburn stubble. The stubble on his jawline…his strong jawline…
I shook myself, noticing I was staring at him. Bash and Xander seemed relatively indifferent as they scanned the phone, each looking thoughtful.
“How does your friend know him?” Xander asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure; it’s her co-workers brother or something.”
“And what does she do?”
I let out a baffled noise through my lips. “Why does it matter? She’s a cosmetologist. Are you going to tell me now there are evil hairstylists? Creating one-bad haircut at a tim
e to curse the world?”
Xander laughed. “Not quite as insidious as that, Ava—but most supes aren’t as long-lived as us. They still need to make a living.”
I slapped my palm against my forehead, squinting my eyes shut. “By crikey I can’t escape it.”
Bash nudged Xander out of the way, and perched himself on the armrest next to me. He reached out and gently touched my forearm; a warm, soothing sensation, causing tingles on my skin. I flinched, started by the feeling. I glanced at him to see if he felt the same; I could swear I witnessed a quick glimpse of surprise awash his gorgeous face, but it was gone.
“Perhaps Mathias will discover some connection,” Xander offered.
Trystan was still pensively stroking his chin, when he suddenly stood up, startling Sierra who was still lounging at my feet slightly. “Oop, sorry girl.”
Sierra sighed irritably, and lay back down.
“She…really seems to understand,” I said, in amazement. “God that must be so cool—being able to talk to animals. How does that work?”
Trystan shrugged his broad shoulders. “Hard to explain. Almost like a telepathy, but they don’t speak in actual words, just images. Can I get you some more soda, Avie?”
I was so enthralled at the idea of being able to talk to animals—and also by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed deeply in his broad throat, to the sharp edges of his wide shoulders...oh my stop it Ava—that I didn’t even correct him for using my nickname. I just mumbled a non-committal, “Mmmhmm…” and attempted to be inconspicuous as I admired his shapely backside saunter to the kitchen, bend over, and search for more pop in the stainless-steel fridge.
Trystan returned, handing me another drink. I didn’t even know what it was, I just opened it and took a long swig. Ah, it was Pepsi. I tried not to grimace—pop was usually too sweet, but I barely paid attention to it in a room full of gorgeous men. Oh, and a wolf.
Trystan leaned over and pet the dog carefully. She lifted her head for a moment; her tail wagged quickly, and she lay back down. Trystan sat on the floor next to his wolf, taking a swig of his own drink.