The box only had a few items in it—a bracelet Dot had given me that same Christmas, a gold pair of earrings (I was wearing them when the plane crashed, and they were the only piece of jewelry I had from my mom), a silver caffeine molecule necklace I’d bought for myself, a few bits of costume jewelry. I lifted out the simple rod pendant that was also a panic beacon and tucked it under the fabric of my sweater. I wasn’t wearing it for protection. It was the first thing they’d given me. It may have been delivered in the worst way possible by Alec, but it was from all of them, and I’d come to love the heavy weight of it around my neck.
“What’re you wearing tonight, Dot?” I asked to distract her from further bitching about my outfit. Charlie was in jeans and a shirt-sweater combo, his black hair falling over his forehead.
“Something new.” She grinned before she got back to applying her makeup. The look she was going for tonight was heavy and dramatic—exactly her signature style before Charlie went missing. I looked forward to seeing what she came up with, even if I wasn’t entirely looking forward to the actual party.
I still hardly knew anyone that well, and with Davis Damari—my psychotic biological father whom my mother had kept us on the run from my entire life, aka the man responsible for kidnapping and torturing Charlie and dozens of other Vitals, aka one of the richest men on the planet, aka the biggest asshole to have ever lived—still underground, it felt wrong somehow to celebrate.
But Ethan insisted we had plenty of reasons, and Dot agreed wholeheartedly. My birthday was only a few days away; I’d refused to allow them to make this party all about that—not after the track record I had with birthdays—but they’d waved me off and said it was a multi-celebration. My birthday would be toasted, but so would Charlie’s safe return, our win in solving the mystery of the missing Vitals, and Uncle Lucian’s recent recovery and release from the hospital.
I wandered over to the window as the song changed to something a little more upbeat. The room I’d moved into in the Zacarias mansion was a little smaller than the others on this wing, but it faced the backyard and caught the afternoon sun beautifully.
Ethan was standing halfway between the house and the pool, completely in his element, dictating the final preparations. He gestured to someone I couldn’t see around the corner. In the next moment, the string lights came on, and he clapped his big hands together.
People had already started to arrive—some of Ethan’s sports friends and a few other people he and Josh were close with but I didn’t know that well. Getting into deep conversations was hard when you were hiding a big secret about yourself. Thankfully we didn’t have to worry about that anymore. My identity and my Vital status were public knowledge now.
A few more people streamed out of the house, and Ethan welcomed them enthusiastically, wrapping them all in big hugs, high-fiving, and carrying on.
I couldn’t see them from my window, but I knew at least three Melior Group teams were stationed around the perimeter. Every Vital in attendance had their own personal security detail, a very visible team was at the front gates checking vehicles, and another was at the front door, checking each person before they entered the house.
At the first party I’d attended here, security had been nonexistent.
The air was getting brisk as dusk settled in—not that it bothered Ethan. My fire fiend was dressed in his signature jeans and a white T-shirt stretched over his defined, broad chest.
Everyone else, however, would be feeling the cold. Of course, Ethan and Dot had thought of that too.
After saying something to the group that had just arrived, Ethan summoned a ball of blue fire and threw it almost lazily over the still water of the pool. It hit its target—a brazier on the other side—and a bright warm flame rose instantly. He lit two more braziers, then paused and turned to face his audience, a cocky grin on his face. He held his arms out at his sides and lifted them dramatically. The other dozen braziers lining the perimeter of the area, as well as the big firepit opposite the bar, all flared to life.
I couldn’t help smirking. His friends were loving the show, shouting and clapping Ethan on the back. He was reminding me of the confident, full-of-life jock I’d first been warned against by the Reds. But that memory was making me think of Beth—poor Beth—and Zara . . .
I couldn’t go there. Instead, I focused on the small, pulling ache that had appeared in my chest. It had been a while since I’d transferred any Light to Ethan, and he’d just used up every extra bit he had with his little magic trick. He wasn’t depleted to a dangerous level—not by a long shot. I wouldn’t have even registered this mild of a pull a few months ago, but our Bond was deepening by the day, and I could sense their needs more and more effortlessly.
I pressed my palm flat against the windowpane and called up the Light, making my skin glow that ethereal white, and remotely transferred just enough to replace what Ethan had used up.
His chest puffed out on a deep breath, and he paused midsentence and looked straight up at my window. Even from this far up, I could see the dimples from his smile—or maybe I just knew them so well I could picture them without having to see them.
I smiled back, shutting off the flow and snuffing out the weird glow with it.
“That is so fucking creepy,” Dot murmured, staring at me from her spot on the floor, one hand still holding the mascara wand in midair. “But so fucking cool.” She smiled wide, then half turned to Charlie. “Why can’t you glow and transfer Light to me remotely? Underachiever. You know how handy that would be?”
He just flipped her off with a sweet smile on his face.
“It’s not exactly all sunshine and rainbows,” I grumbled. We still didn’t fully understand what it was. Not to mention the fact that dozens, if not hundreds, of Vitals had been kidnapped, experimented on, and tortured by Davis Damari in his demented search for another like my mom. Like me.
“Hey.” Charlie’s gentle voice drew my attention back to him as he scooted to the edge of the bed. “None of that. I can see you overthinking it again. Blaming yourself.”
We’d had several conversations about this—I wasn’t hiding how I felt from my friends. They knew all about my guilt, my remorse, my worry.
“None of that was your fault. None of it. He did that. You saved me, Eve. You saved us all. If it wasn’t for you and your impromptu trip to Australia, I don’t know how long they would’ve taken to try the Lighthunter. I don’t know if it might’ve been too late . . .”
He trailed off, reliving horrors I couldn’t even imagine. I sat down next to him. Dot sat on his other side but remained silent.
“I’m really glad you’re OK, Charlie,” I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arm around his waist. When I felt Dot’s delicate arm over mine, I knew she was mirroring my pose.
Beneath the soft fabric under my cheek was scarring. The day after Alec and I had helped the nurses and doctors manage the pain of the burn victims, the healers had finally arrived. They’d repaired the worst of the damage, made sure the muscle was strong, the bone unaffected, the skin stitched back over it all. But even they weren’t miracle workers.
Almost the entire left side of his body had been covered in burns, some more severe than others. Most of it had returned to smooth skin after the healing, but Charlie still had scars on his hip, his elbow, and over his shoulder and neck. Most of it could be covered by clothing, but he didn’t seem to care too much.
He gave us both a squeeze and then extracted himself. “All right, enough of that. This is supposed to be a celebration, no?”
“Yes!” Dot hopped up. “No more moping. Only fun and merriment from now on.”
She turned back to the mirror, but I saw her wipe some of the moisture under her eyes before she went back to doing her makeup.
“I’m going to head down and get a drink.” Charlie stuffed his hands into his pockets and wandered out of the room with an easy smile.
“Do you think he’s OK?” Dot kept her eyes t
rained on her own face in the mirror but pitched her voice low.
I went to stand behind her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I think he will be. With time.”
It always took time. I could attest to that. But this family I was suddenly a part of was made of tough stuff.
“I can’t wait to meet Eduardo.” I smiled at her, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Me too. Wish he could’ve been here in time for the party.”
While locked in a cell, Charlie had met the love of his life, his cellmate Eduardo—the only other Vital with a sibling for a Variant that I knew of. The two of them had slowly gotten to know each other, tended each other’s wounds, kept each other sane, and eventually, fell in love.
Eduardo and his brother lived in Colombia, and he was due to arrive for a visit in a few days. I’d never seen Charlie—who was sometimes even quieter than Josh—so excited.
We were excited to meet him too. In all the chaos of the rescue, Ed was taken to a different hospital and went home with his family, so none of us even knew how important he was to Charlie until he demanded a laptop so he could track Ed down.
“We’ll just throw him another one.” I rolled my eyes.
“Brilliant idea!”
I wasn’t entirely sure if Dot was joking. I groaned, not eager to repeat this madness again so soon, and she laughed maniacally. Next to the mirror, Squiggles bobbed her upper body up and down and ran around in a few excited circles. I think it was her way of laughing.
“You two are creeping me out. I’m going downstairs.” I gave them one last frown and turned for the door.
As I passed Josh’s room, I poked my head in. He had music playing—some band I didn’t even recognize.
I crossed the room to the bathroom. The light was on inside, and the door was ajar. I nudged it the rest of the way open and smiled.
Josh was standing at the sink, doing his hair. His preppy look was impeccable as always—navy chinos and a cream cashmere sweater, a checked shirt collar peeking out from underneath. I leaned in the doorway and checked out his ass as he put the finishing touches on his now perfectly styled dirty-blond hair.
Just one hour ago he’d been reading a book in sweats with a tear at the knee and a Warrant T-shirt. His favorites were the Metallica, David Bowie, and Linkin Park ones, but other than those, I hadn’t seen him wear the same shirt twice.
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked. His beautiful green eyes met my dull blue ones in the mirror.
“Of course.” He smiled. We were all making more of an effort to be honest with one another.
“You’re obviously more comfortable in jeans and band tees. Why do you dress like an Abercrombie and Fitch model every time you’re in public?”
He rinsed the hair product off his hands. “You think I look like a model?”
“Well, yes, but that wasn’t my point.” I smiled smugly.
He laughed, his eyebrows rising in surprise, then dried his hands off on a towel and pressed a sweet kiss to the tip of my nose. “Don’t you want to go down to the party?”
Not really. “I want to know more about you. I thought we all promised to be more honest, answer each other’s questions.” I looked at him expectantly.
He grabbed my hand and gently pulled me into his room. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
He led me to the impressive bookcases on the opposite side of the room and stopped in front of the complicated sound system. The shelving reached almost to the top of the twelve-foot ceilings, and neither one of us could reach the top without a stepladder. He pointed up, and I craned my neck. The entire top shelf was lined with identical brown leather-bound spines without titles.
“Those are my dad’s journals. He used to write in one every day.” Josh’s arms circled around me, his chest pressing into my back. “When our parents died, I was so lost. The only people I would even talk to were the guys. Then I hit puberty, and I was just angry all the time. Some of that anger was directed at my parents. I nearly threw all these out. I packed them up and dragged them all the way down that ridiculous driveway”—we both chuckled—“to dump them on the curb. I figured if they weren’t going to be around, I didn’t want to get to know them any better. But Alec saw and dragged them right back, and then a few years later, he gave them back to me. It was right around the time he and Gabe were getting heavy into the fighting scene. Kid and I started tagging along, getting mixed up with shady people. That’s when they got their shit together and Alec pulled these out of his closet. I was so happy he’d saved them I cried like a little baby.”
I didn’t speak, riveted.
“I started reading them and couldn’t stop. It’s what started my obsession with books. I inherited all the vinyl from my dad, but all the books were my mom’s. It’s funny that reading my dad’s journals is what got me to start reading at all. Anyway, my dad was dirt poor growing up. He lived in a trailer with his aunt and went hungry more than a few times a month. But he studied hard, stayed out of trouble, and got himself a scholarship to Bradford Hills Institute. That’s where he met my mom. But everyone judged him for his worn, old clothes. No one took him seriously. People constantly dropped jokes about how he was punching above his weight with my mom, wondering what the hell she was doing with him.”
I frowned, my heart aching for Josh’s dad. I knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of derisive comments about who you were dating—I’d been subjected to months of it from Ethan’s exes.
“My dad wasn’t a vain man, but he firmly believed in making a good impression—that if you presented well, people were less likely to judge you on what you looked like and more likely to listen to what you had to say. He got pretty successful in the music business, made his own money, and dressed in a three-piece suit every day of his life. He was only relaxed and casual with his family.”
“Like you,” I whispered, and he smiled.
“Yeah. I didn’t grow up poor like my dad—they left me a lot of money—but I learned a lot reading his journals, and this place . . . much as I love Bradford Hills and my family, Variants can be judgmental, bitchy, and gossipy. I refuse to give them any reason to say I’m less than, that I don’t belong here because my dad was trailer trash. I make an effort with my appearance not because I care too much what people think but because it was important to my dad, and because it makes me feel closer to him.”
For a beat, we fell into silence, Josh’s revelations sitting heavy between us. I didn’t know what to say. On one hand, it seemed like a massive burden—feeling as if you had to look a certain way so your place in society would never be questioned. But on the other, it didn’t feel as if Josh was pandering to the stuck-up Variant elites. He was just trying to do his dad proud.
“Plus, have you felt how fucking soft this cashmere sweater is?” Josh grinned, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “It’s like butter.”
I smiled. “I think your dad would be proud of you.”
A wave of emotion crossed his features, and he cleared his throat, looking down. I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, and he crushed me to him in one of his signature hugs.
When the giant speakers came to life downstairs, the heavy bass of some hip-hop song interrupted the moment. Josh kissed me firmly on the lips, only just teasing me with his tongue before pulling away.
“Let’s get down there before Ethan comes looking for us.” He took my hand and led me down the stairs. I was worried for a second I’d upset him by unwittingly bringing up his parents, but if anything, he looked a little lighter—as though a burden had been lifted, now shared with me.
But to me, it didn’t feel like a burden. I knew more about Josh and his history, and I couldn’t wait to hear even more—to learn more about each of them. It felt like a gift. I smiled and squeezed Josh’s hand as we descended into the growing chaos of the party.
I was looking forward to seeing Ty. He’d been at work all day but had promised to be at the party. Even Alec had grunted noncommittall
y when we asked if he’d come. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either.
I wasn’t sure if he’d be there, but I wasn’t sure of a lot when it came to Alec. He’d relaxed considerably since all the secrets between us had been laid on the table; he wasn’t flinching away from my touch now that we knew his ability could take pain away as well as inflict it. But his unreturned declaration of love sat awkwardly between us. Over the past couple months, he’d become quiet—not necessarily angry or defensive like before, but certainly more thoughtful. Add that to the fact that any time I tried, he found a way to avoid sex with me, and I knew something more was festering in that complicated, broody mind of his.
I was hoping the party would give us all an opportunity to relax a little, but I was also hoping it would allow me to get to the bottom of the Master of Pain’s latest issue with me.
Two
The setting sun cast the vast, open spaces of the Zacarias mansion into shadow. As Josh and I reached the bottom of the stairs, someone flicked the lights on, and the ostentatious chandelier in the foyer tinkled to life.
A maid opened the heavy front door, letting another few partygoers in. I didn’t know them, but they waved to Josh as they passed, following the music to the back of the house.
We trailed after them, our hands swinging between us.
“You kids have fun tonight. You’ve all more than earned it.”
We turned to see Uncle Lucian emerge from the corridor leading to the west wing. A black-clad Melior Group agent walked ahead of him, carrying a small piece of luggage toward the garage.
“Thanks, Uncle Luce.” Josh leaned down slightly to give Lucian a hand slap–fist bump combo.
Lucian had survived the rescue mission, but not unscathed. He was in a wheelchair, and despite the healer’s best efforts, it didn’t look as if he would ever walk again. The damage to his hip and spine was just too severe.
Vivid Avowed (The Evelyn Maynard Trilogy Book 3) Page 2