Vivid Avowed (The Evelyn Maynard Trilogy Book 3)

by Kaydence Snow

  He smiled and leaned forward, wrapping his hands around his plastic cup of water. “When you glowed last night, the way you drew the Light into yourself and were able to transfer it remotely not only to your Bond but to others, to me”—he pressed a hand to his chest—“I had never felt anything like it. But I saw the glow, and I couldn’t quite believe what I was witnessing. You truly are extraordinary, Miss Maynard.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled and fiddled with the rolled-up sleeve of Tyler’s shirt. Tyler threaded his fingers through mine, stilling my hand.

  The man continued. “When I was a boy, I would spend summers with my grandmother. She was a Vital, and she had three Variants. She would tell me stories of the ones that glowed—their power and potential. On a few occasions, I even witnessed her skin glow as she transferred Light to one of her Bondmates. But as I grew into an adult, I relegated her stories to the stuff of myth and folktales, put the glow I’d seen down to a child’s overactive imagination. The few times I raised it with my parents, they dismissed the topic. For forty years, I put it out of my mind. And then last night, I saw you, felt you, and it all came back to me. I knew it was real.”

  “Is your grandmother still alive?” I was hanging on every word, leaning forward over the table. I didn’t mean for the question to sound so harsh—I was simply ravenous for more information. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

  He bowed his head but waved my concern away. “It is quite all right. Yes, my grandmother is still alive. She is one hundred and three years old, but she still tends an herb garden and has tea with her friends every day. Or so she tells me in her letters. She lives in the same village, high in the Hida Mountains, but I have not been to see her in many years.”

  “I’m sorry”—Tyler leaned forward, suddenly all business—“why are you telling us this? Excuse my bluntness, but what do you want?”

  Tyler’s ability would’ve alerted him if any of Mr. Takata’s story so far had been a lie—the fact that he hadn’t raised any alarms yet gave me confidence—but in most situations, Tyler had to ask questions for his ability to give him the answers. I wasn’t sure how much Tyler’s ability filled in before the man answered, but he kept a straight face and allowed him to speak.

  “Mr. Gabriel, I understand your concern, but I am aware of your ability, and I would like to remind you of mine. I have kept my shield down, allowing you to see the truth in my words. I have no agenda other than to offer my support and my services to you.” He looked directly at me. “You are proof that the stories my grandmother told are true, and if that is the case, you must be protected. I am at your service.”

  Again, he bowed.

  A little taken aback, I leaned back in my chair, unsure how to respond. I turned to Tyler for guidance. Ethan and Josh were looking at him expectantly too. He gave us all a glance and relaxed his posture. “He’s telling the truth. He has a shielding ability, perfectly capable of blocking me, but he’s keeping it lowered.”

  I cleared my throat. “Thank you, sir, but I’m not sure that I really . . . need anything right now?” I sounded unsure and awkward, even to my own ears. I’d never had someone declare their “service” to me. Was I supposed to assign him a task?

  Tyler saved me. “Do you know any others who glow, like Evelyn and your grandmother?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “Does your grandmother?”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible.”

  “Our top priority is to keep Evelyn safe. I’m sure, considering your line of work, you appreciate how valuable information can be in a situation such as this.” They shared a look of mutual understanding. “If you’d like to help, then help us learn more about what this is. Could you speak with your grandmother?”

  “Of course. It may take some time. There aren’t phones in her village, let alone Internet. I will have to travel there and then back down the mountain before I can get in contact, but I will leave at once.”

  Apparently he wasn’t one to waste time, and neither was Ty. They both rose from their seats. I scrambled to follow suit, as did Ethan and Josh.

  “I’ll organize a secure line and wait to hear from you,” Tyler said.

  “Perfect.”

  Tyler and Mr. Takata bowed to each other. Mr. Takata repeated the gesture with Josh and Ethan, then turned to me.

  He took a card out of his pocket and held it out with both hands. “Evelyn, this is my private, secure line. I am always reachable on this number. Please don’t hesitate to use it.”

  “Thank you.” I took the card with both my hands, as I’d learned to do when I was a child in Japan, and bowed.

  He left and closed the door behind him.

  “Got any more cult followers waiting to declare their undying devotion, or can we get the fuck out of here?” Tyler wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his tone teasing but tired. “I need sleep.”

  “Let’s get you home.” I hugged him around the middle as Josh opened the door for us.

  We checked in on Alec, but he was asleep again. Lucian had been ordered home by Olivia, and the only reason I felt comfortable with all of us leaving was because she and Dot promised to stay until we came back. That and the Melior Group guards crawling all over the building.

  We left the same way we arrived—inconspicuously and heavily guarded—and headed back to the apartment.

  Tyler fell asleep in the car, then again in the elevator, leaning his head back against the mirror. Once we made it inside, he shuffled to the first bedroom, flopped face-first into the bed, and immediately started snoring.

  I felt so bad for him. He hadn’t slept in over thirty-six hours. He was always cleaning up the messes, taking care of us.

  Well, now he had me to take care of him.

  I pulled his shoes off and unbuckled his holster, then managed to roll him over to remove his pants. I grabbed an extra blanket from the next room to cover him and drew the curtains. Lying down beside him, I ran my hand through his messy brown hair.

  I was itching to call Mr. Takata on the number he gave me. In the short time since he’d left, my mind had made a shopping list of questions. But I knew it was better to let him go to his grandmother and get more information first. I so badly wanted to go there myself—meet someone else like me.

  But for right now, I was exactly where I needed to be.

  Fifteen

  We spent another night at the Manhattan apartment, then most of the next day at the hospital with Alec. He slept through most of it. The doctors assured us he was in the clear, but I just wanted to be close to him, hold his hand, even lie down in the bed next to him. I wanted to be there for him just as he’d been there for me when my mother died and I thought I was alone in the world. How wrong I’d been.

  Much to Alec’s ire, the doctor decided to keep him for an extra night. The next morning Tyler headed into work, and Ethan, Josh, and I drove home to Bradford Hills with an entourage of armored vehicles. Alec would be released that afternoon, and we wanted to get home ahead of him to make sure we had everything set up for his recovery.

  But we were so spent we ended up piled on the couch, curtains drawn, and spent the morning watching movies and eating takeout.

  Around lunchtime, Josh started flicking through live TV channels to see what was on. I was trying to decide if I needed to pee badly enough to move—I was ridiculously comfortable.

  Ethan was reclined in the corner of the big, soft couch, his body slightly turned inward, a cushion half over his lap. Josh had his head on the cushion, the rest of his body spread out. I was squished between my blond bombshell boyfriend and the back of the couch. My head rested in the crook of Josh’s shoulder, and one of my legs was hitched over his hips.

  Ethan was running his hand through my hair absentmindedly. I was so relaxed I couldn’t even be bothered to cover my mouth as I yawned. It was a big one, stretching my jaw wide.

  Ethan’s hand in my hair stopped. As my yawn ended, I unexpectedly closed my teeth and lips around h
is finger.

  My hand flew to his as the two of them cracked up laughing, making me laugh around Ethan’s digit too. But I couldn’t let him off that easy. Still struggling to contain my giggles, I tightened my grip on his hand and held his finger hostage with my teeth.

  I wrapped my lips around Ethan’s finger and sucked.

  Both their laughter died in their throats, and I felt their full attention on me, on my mouth.

  Excruciatingly slowly, I dragged Ethan’s finger out, lightly scraping it with my teeth, then swirling my tongue around the tip. He groaned and Josh gripped my thigh, pulling my leg higher over his growing erection.

  I sucked Ethan’s finger back into my mouth while rolling my hips against Josh.

  I had no idea how the energy between us changed so fast, but I was drunk on it. I loved hearing Ethan groan when I was barely touching him. I loved feeling Josh’s arousal pressing into my thigh. Witnessing the effect I had on them made me feel powerful. Loved, safe, and powerful.

  I drew Ethan’s finger all the way out of my mouth and, with Josh’s help, drew myself up, straddling him.

  That heavy, needy feeling was building deep inside me, and I rubbed myself up against Josh, seeking the friction that would both ease and intensify it. With Josh’s hands on my waist, I leaned up. Ethan met me halfway and kissed me passionately, his tongue invading my mouth.

  Josh trailed his hands up my sides, pushing my sweater up, and Ethan broke our kiss to yank it completely off and throw it to the ground. He leaned back in and started kissing and sucking on my neck. I moaned and turned my head to the side, giving him more access as Josh grabbed my ass, his hips rolling under me to meet my movements.

  But with my head turned, I caught a glimpse of the TV and froze.

  It was turned down, but the rolling script at the bottom said “Live,” and Davis Damari’s ugly face filled the screen as he walked up to a podium overflowing with microphones. There were those eyes, the same shape as mine; my full lips; a more masculine version of my nose.

  “Stop,” I murmured, a cold chill dousing my desire. But they were caught up in the moment. Josh’s hips were still pitching under me, Ethan’s mouth still nibbling on my neck.

  “Stop.” I put more force behind the word that time, pushing on both their chests.

  That time they heard me.

  “What’s wrong?” Josh sat up.

  Ethan spoke at the same time. “You OK?”

  I kept my eyes on the TV as their hands and eyes searched my body for injuries, but they caught on pretty quickly. Ethan grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

  “. . . mixed news for you all today.” Davis flashed his perfect teeth at the cameras, displaying that charismatic smile that made me want to vomit. “Our team of scientists and engineers have been working tirelessly to bring you our latest technology, which I announced recently. As you all know, this will allow us to transfer an ability from a Variant and give it to any person with Variant DNA who happens to not have manifested one naturally. We have worked out the legal and financial side of the process, ensuring that the donating Variant is compensated adequately for their generous decision to part with their Light-given ability. All that’s left now is to make sure our technology, our machines, are perfectly optimized and safe for all parties involved. Safety is our number one priority.”

  Ethan scoffed. “Please. Safety, my ass.”

  Josh shushed him and turned the volume up even more. Davis launched into all the wonderful things his company was doing to ensure the safety of its customers—all the amazing things this would do for Variants around the world. The spiel was delivered with ease and practice, the touch of a marketing professional clear in the phrasing. He discussed how Variants who disliked their abilities would be able to rid themselves of an unwanted burden. How Variants with common abilities but no clear use for them would be able to make a substantial amount of money by giving them up.

  As if his proposed system wasn’t rife with opportunities for exploitation. As if it wouldn’t turn into another way for the rich to get what they wanted at the expense of the poor and desperate. As if it wouldn’t encourage Variant trafficking.

  The reporters were eating his words up, asking enthusiastic questions and flashing their cameras. How did they not see that this could turn nasty overnight? That it was just like what the Lightwhores did—Vitals selling off their precious and sacred Light for a couple bucks? Except this was permanent.

  His blatant lies made me feel sick. I wrapped my arms around myself, and Ethan handed me my sweater. As Davis kept twisting everything with his clever, poisonous words, I pulled the sweater over my head, and Josh held me close to his chest.

  “Unfortunately we’ve had to push back our timeline.” The look of disappointment on Davis’s face was so exaggerated I almost laughed. “We were hoping to make the procedure available to the public next month; however, we’ve hit . . . a snag.” He sighed. A flurry of questions flew at him from the reporters, who all spoke over one another. He gestured for them to calm down. “I can’t go into too many details regarding the process—there is the matter of intellectual property to consider.” He flashed that greasy grin. “But the technology is developed from studying Vitals and the process of transferring Light. There is one particular individual who is very unique in this aspect, and her Light is what allowed us to get this far with these incredible advancements.”

  I leaned toward the TV even as I gritted my teeth and gripped Josh’s T-shirt, my knuckles turning white.

  A reporter cut in. “Are you referring to the girl who glows?”

  Davis sighed, another exaggerated, fake look of regret crossing his face. “I’m sure most people have seen the footage of the young lady who glowed as she transferred Light. Yes, her talents are more than just a visually impressive display. Yes, she was instrumental in assisting us with developing the technology. And yes, we still need her assistance.”

  “He makes it sound like you were working together,” Josh ground out, “not like he fucking kidnapped you and nearly killed us all.”

  My fists, still wrapped around the poor fabric of his T-shirt, started to shake in anger.

  Davis just kept spewing his lies. “I’m very saddened to say she is no longer working with us, especially considering . . . but I won’t go into sharing private family matters at this time.”

  But by saying that, that’s exactly what he’d done. My mouth dropped open. What the fuck was he up to?

  Intrigued murmurs rose from the reporters, but they settled down quickly, eager to hear more from Davis.

  “It’s all about to become public knowledge now, so I won’t deny that the Vital in question is my daughter. The only thing I’ll add is that my deepest wish is to see her again. Despite the delays with our project, regardless of the wider implications, I only wish to speak with her again.” At this, he turned and stared straight into the camera. “Evelyn, you’ve left me no choice but to implore you, to plead with you in such a public way—please, darling. Come home so we can make up for all those years apart. So we can get back to our important work and change people’s lives. So we can make sure you’re safe together.” I wanted to throw something at the TV, at his ugly face. It felt as if he were staring right at me, the fake sincerity infecting the crowd, reporters, and viewers like a disease.

  “Is she dangerous?” Someone shouted.

  Davis shook his head immediately, but I caught a glimpse of a satisfied smile. He’d been hoping someone would ask this, maybe even planted someone in the crowd. “My daughter would never knowingly harm anyone.” He pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes imploring, then paused, sighed, and leveled everyone with a serious look. “Her Light is incredible, and the glowing is merely a visual representation of how formidably powerful she is. It is this particular brand of Vital Light that allowed us to figure out how to draw the ability from a Variant. But the process can be . . . deadly.”

  The reporters erupted in a hectic hubbub of questions, shoutin
g and elbowing one another to coax more information from Davis. But he just waved them off and turned away, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye.

  That son of a bitch!

  “Fuck!” Ethan and Josh cursed at the same time.

  This was bad—really bad.

  Josh handed me off to Ethan, stood up, and reached for his phone. Ethan’s big arms boxed me in as my heart slowly plummeted, hammering in fear all the way down.

  The world’s journalists had already figured out my identity. My photo and real name appeared on the screen now that the press conference had ended and Davis had walked out.

  “Did he see it?” Josh barked down the phone. He paced as he talked. “The press conference. You didn’t see it? . . . Good. Make sure he doesn’t turn the TV on in his room . . . I know . . . Fucking bribe the nurse to knock him out if you have to . . . I know . . . I know . . . Yes. OK, thanks, Kyo.”

  He was making sure Alec didn’t fly into a rage and rip his stitches open. Because that’s exactly what he’d do if he saw this shit—tear the hospital down to get to me. Josh hung up, and his phone immediately started ringing again.

  “Hey.” He rubbed his forehead as he paced. “Yep . . . She’s safe. In Ethan’s lap as we speak . . . No way in hell. We’re never leaving this fucking house again . . . Good. Agreed . . . I know, Gabe . . . I will . . . OK, bye.”

  As Josh hung up, Lucian wheeled himself into the room. He flicked on the kitchen light. With the heavy curtains drawn, we’d been sitting in the dark, the glow of the TV the only illumination.

  Lucian came to a stop next to the couch. “You saw it?”

  “Every damn word,” Ethan growled, his grip on me tightening. Josh lowered himself onto the coffee table, his expression grim. “How did we not know about this?”

  “We were told he was calling a press conference,” Lucian said, “but that was only an hour ago. No one, not even the reporters, were given any inside info. We had no way of knowing he would—”

  “Paint a target on my back?” I stared at the corner of the coffee table, next to Josh’s knee.