Omens (The Dark in You Book 6)

by Suzanne Wright

  Slipping on her own pair of rental shoes, Devon spoke to Khloé. “I can’t believe you bought your own bowling shoes.”

  “You think I’m going to wear sweaty rental shoes that are no doubt hosts to all kinds of bacteria and fungi?” Khloé snorted. “No thanks, I’ll pass.”

  Behind her, Keenan slid his arms around her waist. “Now that you’ve put it like that, I’m not so sure I like wearing rental shoes either.”

  Tired, Khloé leaned into him. In truth, she wasn’t in the mood to go bowling or anything else. She’d been looking forward to the original plan for her and Keenan to spend their Sunday afternoon together alone, but the girls had turned up with their mates and Levi and had proposed a group outing.

  She knew why, of course. They not only wanted to take her mind off what was going on, they wanted to keep a close watch on her and figured this was a covert way to do it. Like she wouldn’t know what they were up to.

  She hadn’t called them on it, though. Purely because Keenan was ten times more wound up than she was, and he hadn’t been able to relax. He’d tried, but it wasn’t working. She supposed it raked at his insides that he couldn’t do anything to heal her.

  As a sentinel, he no doubt wasn’t used to feeling powerless, and the emotional state seemed to be tormenting him somehow … as if it was bringing back painful memories, maybe? She didn’t know and didn’t want to ask. If there was anything to tell, he’d confide in her when he was ready.

  Khloé had asked Ciaran to come with them, but her brother was spending time with his girlfriend, who Khloé happened to like. He generally had bad taste in women. Or maybe, like Khloé, he had so many issues with relationships that he was reluctant to get involved with anyone he thought he might fall for.

  When demons fell, they fell hard.

  Waiting for the others to slip on their rental shoes, she glanced around the Underground’s bowling alley. There were several lanes, all of which included cushioned benches, a plastic table, and a ball-return machine. Electronic score boards hung from the ceiling, occasionally showing animated action replays of the players’ throws.

  The sounds of balls rolling, pins clattering, and people cheering echoed through the large space. Music videos played on the widescreen, wall-mounted TVs. There was also a lot of dinging, bleeping, chiming, and gunshot sounds coming from the arcade area.

  “Just so you all know, I’m hitting the arcade before we leave,” said Khloé.

  “That machine over in the corner near the ATM is my favorite,” said Raini. “I always get a prize, every time.”

  Levi frowned at the blonde. “That’s a vending machine.”

  “I know,” said Raini.

  “How many pins are in the lanes?” asked Tanner, leaning against the counter. “Fourteen? Sixteen?”

  Devon gave him a patronizing smile. “Sweetie, there’s actually a reason they call it ten pin bowling.”

  Khloé looked at the hellhound. “Wait, you’ve never bowled before?”

  Tanner just shook his head.

  “Want some pointers?” asked Devon.

  Tanner snorted. “You just throw a ball at the pins to make them fall down—how hard can it be?”

  Khloé exchanged a smile with Devon. The hellhound was so going down.

  “I had to book two lanes because there are eight of us,” said Knox. Well-groomed and smartly dressed, he should have looked out of place. Somehow, though, he always seemed to “fit” into his surroundings. Probably because he was always at total ease with himself. “We’ll need to split into two groups.”

  “Ooh, the girls vs. the boys,” suggested Raini.

  “But that won’t be fair to you girls,” said Levi.

  Raini’s spine snapped straight. “Why? Because an all-male team would win for sure?”

  Levi spluttered. “No, because … Tanner, you explain.”

  The hellhound scowled. “Don’t expect me to dig your way out of your hole.”

  Khloé rolled her eyes. “Let’s just head to our lanes.”

  Once they’d entered their names into the scoreboards, they grabbed drinks from the concession area and chose which balls to put in the ball-return machine.

  Up first, Khloé lifted one of the smooth balls. The weight was just right. The soles of her shoes squeaked against the floor as she crossed to the glossy bowling lane, careful not to step over the red line. She planted her feet wide, held the ball tight between her hands, bent over and—

  “Wait, you do the granny roll?” asked Keenan, who stood at the mouth of the neighboring lane. “Seriously?”

  Straightening, Khloé frowned at him. “Think of how many people have stuck their fingers into the ball. I highly doubt the workers clean them after every game—hell, I’ll be surprised if they clean them more than once a year. Ergo, I am not sticking my fingers into those germ-infested holes.” Just the thought made her shudder.

  “And she says she’s not OCD,” muttered Harper from the bench.

  “You can’t bowl like that,” insisted Keenan. “You’ll hurt your back.”

  “More importantly, you’ll lose,” said Levi.

  Keenan scowled at him. “That’s more important?”

  Khloé shook her head in a “whatever” gesture and turned back to the pins. “I won’t lose.” She had the granny roll down to a science.

  She assumed her prior position and rolled the ball hard. It rushed down the lane fast and crashed into the white pins, knocking all ten of them to the floor. Smug, Khloé strolled back to the bench. “Now, that’s how I roll. Pun intended.”

  Having also scored a strike, Keenan grinned at his little imp. “I’d high-five you, but something tells me you’re not going to touch my hands until I’ve washed them.”

  “Washed them and used antibacterial gel. I have some in my purse.”

  “Of course you do.” Keenan took a seat. “You’re up, Tanner.” And he did not see this going well for his friend, but he said nothing.

  The hellhound mimicked Devon as she slipped her thumb and two of her fingers into the holes of a ball and carefully lifted it. Both she and Tanner then headed to the start of their respective lanes. The couple counted to three and then released their balls. Devon’s zipped along the lane and whacked the pins hard, sending all but one crashing to the floor. Tanner’s ball rolled sideways and found its home in the gutter.

  Devon gave her mate a look of mock sympathy. “Bad luck, Pooch.”

  Tanner threw her a glare and returned to the bench.

  “You sure you don’t want any pointers, Tanner?” asked Keenan.

  “Fuck off,” muttered the hellhound.

  Keenan just laughed.

  Both teams threw themselves into the game. A lot of trash talk went on, mostly between Keenan and his teammates. Tanner, who was gracefully losing, repeatedly reminded everyone it was just a game. Until it started to look as though he had a shot at overtaking others—then he began to take the game uber seriously. He even tried mimicking Khloé’s granny rolls to see if it brought him any luck. It didn’t—she just made it look easy.

  After scoring yet another strike, Keenan crossed to Khloé, who was standing near the table between the benches, drinking her soda. “I see you’re winning.”

  “Of course I’m winning,” she said. “I was taught by the best.”

  “Who?”

  “My Aunt Mildred.”

  Devon threw back her head. “Oh my god.”

  Khloé’s brow creased. “You really don’t remember her? She had a scar on her lip. A really deep dimple in her chin. Wore cloying rose perfume all the time. And she had a strawberry birthmark on her neck that was shaped a little like the UK.”

  Devon burst out, “You do not have an Aunt Mildred. Keenan, there’s a high chance I’ll grab her by the throat if you don’t move her right now.”

  “Can’t let you do that, Devon,” he said. “No one touches my girl.”

  The hellcat just about melted. “Awwwwwww.”

  Having taken
her turn, Harper crossed to them. “I broke another nail.”

  “You also have a little mascara goop in the corner of your eye,” Raini told her.

  Harper went to wipe it with her finger, but Khloé grabbed her hand and said, “Don’t.”

  The sphinx frowned. “What?”

  “Touch your eye without washing your germ-covered hands first.”

  Harper’s eyes twinkled. “So … I really shouldn’t lick my fingers either?”

  “What? No, of course not. Wait, no. No, no, no, don’t do it. Don’t—oh my god, you’re such a freak!”

  Keenan almost laughed, but his good humor fled him when a sobering sight caught his attention. Gavril was standing near the entrance of the bowling alley with two of his sentinels, and the Prime’s eyes were fixed on Keenan. Son of a bitch.

  His inner demon slinked to the surface, wanting the other male far away from Khloé; detesting that he’d impinged on Keenan’s time with her.

  Telepathically reaching out to Knox, Keenan said, Gavril’s here.

  The Prime sidled up to him. I know. He just telepathed me. He’d like five minutes of your time. You’re free to turn down his request.

  I’d rather see what he wants. Maybe the asshole would then run along and disappear from Khloé’s general vicinity.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning into him, clearly sensing his change of mood.

  Looking down at her, Keenan cupped her nape and brushed it with his thumb. “Nothing. I just need to speak with someone. I’ll be five minutes. Take my turn for me.” He gave Harper a look that said, “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  With that, he and Knox headed to the bowling alley’s entrance. Knox must have telepathically ordered the other sentinels to remain with the women, because they didn’t try to follow—not even Levi, who liked to guard the male Prime at all times.

  As Keenan and Knox halted a few feet away from Gavril, Keenan’s inner demon curled its upper lip. All it had ever sensed when it looked at the harbinger was weakness.

  Gavril straightened his shoulders. “Knox.”

  “Gavril,” was all Knox said in return before exchanging nods with the other Prime’s sentinels.

  Gavril briefly inclined his head at Keenan and then slid his gaze back to Knox. “I wouldn’t have thought a bowling alley was your scene.”

  “I was about to say the same to you,” said Knox.

  “I confess, I only came because I heard you and your sentinels were here,” said Gavril. His eyes danced from Knox to Keenan. “I was hoping to speak to you both in person.”

  “Then speak,” said Knox.

  Gavril pursed his lips. “Has Thea been in contact with either of you?”

  “No.”

  Gavril’s jaw tightened. “I have it on good authority that a female and young boy recently joined your lair.” He looked at Keenan, daring him to deny it.

  Keenan shrugged. “I wouldn’t term it ‘good’ authority, since it’s untrue.” They were giving Thea and Lane sanctuary—that was different from offering them a place in their lair. Which was the only reason Keenan’s demon wasn’t sulking about it.

  “Not according to my sources,” said Gavril. “Your new members’ descriptions don’t match those of Thea and Lane, but she’ll of course be using glamor.”

  “You should consider finding new sources,” Knox advised.

  Gavril’s nostrils flared. “I don’t know what lies she has told you. But know that Thea is dangerous and unstable. She killed her ex-mate, the father of her son. I cannot—will not—allow that to go unpunished, so do not think you can hide her from me. It is in your best interests to hand her over.”

  Knox took a slow step toward him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that was a threat. That can’t possibly be true, though, can it? Because you wouldn’t be stupid enough to believe you would get away with threatening me.”

  “It was not a threat,” Gavril assured him. “When I say it is in your best interests, I mean that she is not a person who can be trusted. She would betray you as easily as she betrayed her ex-mate.”

  “Then it is a good thing I haven’t welcomed her into my lair, isn’t it?”

  Gavril’s gaze snapped back to Keenan. “She will come to you eventually. She will tell you lies; will claim that she is oh so innocent and desperately needs a white knight. She may even profess an undying love for you. Do not fall for her act.”

  Keenan’s demon puffed up, affronted that the other male would believe it could be so easily deceived. “Thanks for the advice,” he said, his voice dry.

  Gavril’s mouth tightened, but he and his sentinels then left without another word.

  Keenan stared after them. He didn’t speak until they were a safe distance away. “He was convincing enough to have me wondering if there’s some truth to what he’s saying. But Thea was pretty convincing, too.”

  Knox nodded. “It’s possible that both are lying; that each are mixing enough truth with fiction to make their sides of the story believable. It’s a shame I can’t read her mind.”

  “Did Ella manage to successfully bind Lane’s power?”

  “Yes. She also agreed to check on him weekly to be sure that no one has undone her magick.”

  Keenan felt his brow pinch. “You don’t trust that Thea wouldn’t hire someone to unbind his gift?”

  “I simply don’t trust her, so I intend to keep a close eye on the situation. If she is lying, we’ll find out soon enough. I just hope it won’t be in a way that leaves us dealing with a lot of blowback.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sitting on the chair in the studio’s break room, Khloé watched Teague pace up and down, a mass of restless energy. She’d called him yesterday when she’d returned from the bowling alley and asked him to meet her at her house today after work. She had a few things to share with him, and she didn’t want to tell him about her damn infection over the phone.

  Khloé planned to keep it from as many people as possible for two reasons. One, it was never good for demons to know you were weak. Two, the news would then be less likely to reach her mother. But Teague’s loyalty was primarily to Khloé; he’d never divulge anything that she told him in private.

  He’d agreed to meet with her at her house. But, having heard from someone that she and Keenan had been all handsy with each other at the bowling alley yesterday, he’d stormed to the studio. He’d been furious at the idea that she was letting Keenan “use” her, but he’d settled a little on hearing that she and the incubus weren’t simply sleeping together.

  She’d also explained that she had bigger worries than if the relationship would crash and burn. To say that Teague hadn’t taken the news of her infection well was something of an understatement.

  “Enoch’s got a lot to fucking answer for.” Clenching his fists, he shot Khloé a look full of censure. “I’m not happy that you didn’t mention this until now.”

  “I only learned about it recently,” she reminded him. “I didn’t tell you immediately because it wasn’t something I wanted to share over the phone.”

  “You could have told me sooner.”

  “Keenan and the girls pretty much commandeered my entire day yesterday, wanting to keep my mind occupied on other things. I wanted you and I to be alone when we had this conversation.” Because Teague was a private person; he didn’t like sharing his emotions with outsiders—it made him feel vulnerable—and she knew he’d need the opportunity to vent a little. He’d done plenty of that in the last ten minutes.

  He stopped pacing and shoved a hand through his hair. “What’s the plan for how to handle this?”

  “In short, we need the help of an angel.” She crossed one leg over the other. “Jolene and Knox are trying to locate one.”

  “I don’t personally know any, but I’ll ask around.” Teague flopped onto the chair beside hers. “I hate that there’s nothing else I can do.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Does no one have any idea where
Enoch could be?”

  “Not right now, no. He’ll lay very, very low while his body regenerates. The auction I told you about finishes today. With any luck, the blade will be ours. Then we can kill him for real.” Her demon relished the idea.

  “Would his death somehow rid you and Ciaran of the infection?”

  She felt her nose wrinkle. “I doubt it. I think our best bet is to find an angel.”

  Teague rubbed his nape. “How is Ciaran?”

  “Physically, he’s still groggy and showing signs of the infection. Emotionally, he’s pissed as all hell and is more worried about me than he is about himself. But that goes both ways.”

  “You can’t die, Khlo,” said Teague, his voice rough.

  “I’m not going to. Do you really think my grandmother would let that happen?”

  “There are some things you can’t control.”

  She tucked her hands between her crossed thighs. “Yeah, I know. But I have to believe that this will all work out, Teague. I have to.”

  He slid an arm around her and pulled her close. She leaned into him, accepting comfort and giving it. Her demon burrowed into him too, not liking that he was hurting.

  The door to the break room slowly swung open, and none other than Keenan breezed inside.

  *

  Keenan held himself very still as Khloé sat up with a smile. There was no guilt on her face at having been caught hugging another man, and there shouldn’t be—she’d done nothing wrong. Teague was her anchor; there was nothing sexual between them. Still, jealously and possessiveness churned in Keenan’s stomach, and his demon all but roared.

  His muscles ached with the effort to stay still. He wanted to stalk over to Khloé and yank her away from Teague. Wanted to take her mouth right there and make it clear that she was his.

  His demon snorted at the sour look the hellhorse tossed him. The entity saw him as no threat. But it still hated the sight of Teague’s arm draped over her shoulders.

  Seeing the lines of concern etched into Teague’s face, Keenan figured she’d told him about the traces of death essence coursing through her system. Keenan wasn’t going to lie, it bothered him that she’d confided in another man. Yeah, Teague was her anchor and had no mate, so his loyalty was primarily to Khloé—there was every reason for her to confide in him. But the possessive heart of Keenan hated it.