Dead Nights (Legacy of Deth #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

ZEPHYR “ZEPH” DETH

The wind moving through the trees sounds like a ghostly howl.

I hunker down a little further in my blanket, raising my shoulders so the edges cover my ears, and glance at the heater.

The wind is moving the wrong way to encourage the heat toward me, but if I move for the third time, the wind will just change direction.

My phone pings again, and I duck my face into my blanket nest and click my screen. I’m not surprised to see it’s my brother. We’ve been chatting for the past few minutes.

Erez Deth

So why aren’t you home yet?

The question was coming. As soon as I said I was still at the boat club, he’d eventually ask why.

I keep trying to convince him to join me here, just to get him out of the house, but I know my brother.

He’s not leaving. He hasn’t been here since our sister died nine years ago.

I know he blames himself, which is stupid.

Her suicide wasn’t anyone’s fault. She had demons we couldn’t fight with her.

It hit us all hard, but Erez has never forgiven himself. I’m not sure if he stays home because it’s the last place she was alive or if he’s waiting for her ghost to come back. I almost wish it would so maybe he’d find some peace.

I glance around, poking my head out of the blanket, waiting to see something. A hint of a shadow or spirit watching me. The only things I see are the dark outlines of trees around the castle moving in the wind and lights in the distance.

I don’t know. Come out here.

Erez Deth

Thanks, but it’s too cold.

At least that’s a reasonable enough excuse, though it’s not entirely accurate right now. It’s only September on Alexandria Bay, between northern New York and Canada. It’s about to get so much colder.

There are heaters.

I can hear him snorting in my head. When he doesn’t respond right away, I click my phone screen off and peek my eyes out of my blanket nest. I don’t know why I’m still here. Waving my best friend and his boyfriend off earlier hit me weirdly.

I’m trying not to be unfairly upset that Jude has a boyfriend. I should be happy for him. It’s not like I’m in love with him. I’m not. It’s not that kind of upset.

Part of me always thought he’d be single like me, and when we’re forty and both single, maybe we’d jokingly cohabitate and shit. I’m not attracted to him. I’m not even jealous that he has a boyfriend.

He’s leaving me behind again. He went and got famous by being an awesome hockey player while I stayed behind and took a job with Van Doren Tech like one of my fathers and older brother, Lanzo.

My dad works in the contracts department and Lanzo works in tech.

I work in private investigation. But that was okay because Jude always came back and we’d be thick as thieves, just as we’ve always been.

Now he has a boyfriend, and I know nothing will be the same as it was before.

I can’t pretend it’s just a passing phase.

I know Jude. I know Jude better than Jude knows Jude.

He’s never shown more than a passing interest in anyone.

In fact, I’d be hard pressed to recall a time when he’s actually been interested in anyone enough to look twice.

I knew the moment he stepped into the boathouse with that man that this was different. Even if he didn’t know. Even when he claimed it was summer fun. I knew.

This isn’t one of those times I want to be right. I want things the way they’ve always been.

Inside, it feels like I’d be throwing a tantrum if I let any of this out. I’m being selfish and a shit friend. So even though I’m alone on the terrace, I keep it all inside. I won’t be that person. I will be happy for Jude because that’s what best friends do.

It’d be easier to feel jilted if Conner were an asshole, but he’s hot as fuck, smart, and kind. He’s strong too, which is necessary since he nearly got himself killed while here this summer by stumbling on secrets he shouldn’t have.

Not his fault, of course, but nonetheless, he’s lucky to be alive.

Oh, and he knows hockey. I can’t imagine Jude ever being with a guy who doesn’t know hockey. My god, I can just imagine the way he’d look at them with absolute horror.

The thought makes me grin because I can see his expression so clearly. See? I know Jude, which is why I know I’m being left behind again. He’s going to get married and have kids, and I’m just going to be here. Not moving.

Another gust of wind makes the howling in the trees pick up. The gentle whoooooossshhhhh as the trees sway is calming, even if a little spooky. It only adds to the ambience of Dark Island.

Everything about the place is spooky, beginning with the island in the middle of Alexandria Bay on the St. Lawrence River, to the hundred-plus-year-old castle that’s currently deserted as everyone returned home.

Then there are the hidden passages within the walls, the underground tunnels, and the freaky-as-fuck tower in the woods.

And the woods themselves. They’re dark, dense, and littered with pits where more than one person has disappeared.

Not to mention the people who have disappeared within the walls of the castle. It’s not just spooky folklore. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve been a part of it.

Not all initiations are sneaking into the headmaster’s office and ringing a bell in the dead of night. Some are bloody.

My phone pings again, and I duck under the blanket.

It’s a picture text from Erez, so I click on it.

My brother is a tattoo artist. He’s the only one of us three kids who didn’t take a job with the Van Dorens.

Maybe he’s the only one who thought for himself.

What am I saying? I have a cushy job, and I only have to work when I want, in part because Mommy and Daddies let me spend their money.

Erez has talent, though. His paper and pencil drawings are only outdone when they’re transferred to flesh. The picture honestly takes my breath away.

It’s a drawing of the castle on Dark Island with a boat racing through the foreground. It’s all set within a single honeycomb, parts of the drawing stick out of its frame.

I shake my head because yeah. I want that one. Tapping out of the picture to respond, I see his text following. It’s another picture, but this one is of the honeycombs on my back. He has one circled, and I laugh because that’s the exact one I was thinking of.

Most of my back is filled with empty honeycombs.

Around my shoulders, they’re bunched together tightly, but as they move down my back, they become fewer and further apart.

I asked Erez to fill them with important moments in my life and let him take a moment to ponder.

As long as I don’t rush it, he comes back with something that has me staring.

Yes, that’s perfect.

Erez Deth

Not exactly what you were asking for since you already have the boat, but it’s a big part of the island and your experience there, so I added it. I can take it out if you want.

Not a chance. It’s perfect.

I think he’d be an award-winning tattoo artist if he put himself out there, but he keeps himself hidden away in his shop, only accessible to a few regulars and the occasional walk-in when he’s feeling inspired by what they’re asking for.

Since he does his best work by letting his muse come up with a design, it’s better for him not to take on someone in a hurry.

Erez Deth

Cool. Then when are you coming home?

I roll my eyes. Maybe he’s lonely. Maybe our parents went traipsing around the world or something, and he’s left alone in the house with nothing but memories of our sister.

Sometimes, I wish I could convince him to let me bring in a psychic medium or something. I want to set his mind at ease. I want him to live his life for himself, just as Alice would want.

I don’t know.

Erez Deth

Is something wrong? What’s happening out there? You’re not being held hostage, are you?

If I were, would you come rescue me?

Erez Deth

Unlikely. I’d send Lan. Or the dads. They’d be better at rescuing you anyway.

I think about this answer and can’t stop the grin.

One of our dads is a psychopath. Lanzo is, too.

I’m talking, clinically diagnosed psychopath.

Lanzo can fit into society well enough, though he doesn’t need to so much anymore now that he’s working at Van Doren Tech, where there is an abundance of Van Dorens with antisocial disorders.

Dadaz, though? No, he’s never blended in. He’s never tried. He has no interest in or any intention of trying.

I have three dads, and we distinguish between them by adding the first two letters of their names to dad. So I have Dadaz: Daddy Azlan, Dadis: Daddy Isidro, and Dadwa: Daddy Wade. Then there’s our mom, their princess Xan. I swear, she was royalty in a past life. That’s how they treat her.

But yeah. Dadaz doesn’t attempt to be like the rest of the world. His eyes are cold, and his personality is even colder. Everything about him is chilly, to put it kindly.

He’s obsessively protective of his family, though. Which is his own brand of love.

I often wonder if Lanzo is going to have that kind of loyalty to a family one day. I’m confident that he loves us—his brothers and parents. Outside of us, I think he’d be happy enough to set everyone on fire. Just like Dadaz.

Which means if Erez sent Lan, he’d probably set the island on fire once he took me out of the hostage situation, and to hell with anyone else here.

Even if they’re important to me. It wouldn’t occur to him to save them, too.

I’m the one who matters to him, and in his brain, that would be the only thing that would truly register when he acted.

Thanks for the love, bro.

Erez Deth

You should absolutely take that as the topmost love. I’d send psychotic help that would rescue you at all costs. Or I could fumble my way through and get us both killed. What’s your choice?

I chuckle. At least he’s feeling chatty, I suppose. Which leads me to believe that he is lonely. I’m about to ask him where his bestie, Fade, is, but I think he’ll take that as I’m trying to end this conversation, and I’m not. I’m lonely too. We have that in common.

Which means I’d probably be doing us both a favor if I went home. We could alleviate our loneliness with each other. Instead, I keep my ass planted right here on the thick cushion, all tucked up tightly in a big, thick blanket, with the heat lamp close by, all alone.

There’s someone in the castle. Moll, I think. It’s her shift. I’m pretty sure that’s what someone said earlier this summer. I’ll track her down later for some company.

But right now, I want to wallow in my loneliness of being left behind.

It’s that time of year when everyone heads back to life.

Summer is a break from life when we all gather at the castle, race boats, and goof off.

At the end of the summer, when the northern winds get cold, and the sun struggles to peek through the clouds, everyone returns to their normal life.

Jobs, families, responsibilities. They retake their positions as contributing members of society, needed in their roles, and missed if they’re not where they should be.

Not me. I had nothing going on at work, and Paisley, my Van Doren boss who’s my age, said it wasn’t a big deal if I took some time off. She’d call if she had something for me. Which means I’m not needed. Not missed.

Only my brother realized I wasn’t home.

Jude didn’t question that I stayed behind. Before Conner, he would have.

Maybe that’s why I’m still here. Because it’s the first sign of his leaving me behind again.

I remember the first time he didn’t call me one night.

When he was first drafted, he knew I was having a hard time with it.

Not because I was resentful that he got to play hockey. I was so damn excited for him.

Jude Vincent has some mad talent, and I’d have been absolutely riotous if he hadn’t been drafted. Biased or not, doesn’t matter. He deserves to be on that ice. He has so much damn talent!

He knew I was having a hard time because he was always by my side growing up. Through all my antics. Through my chaos. Through my crazy energy and too-loud laughter and just… being me. He was my rock. My solid, constant. He was there through everything, especially when Alice died.

And he was leaving. Going somewhere I couldn’t go. Living his dream—a life he deserved and worked hard for. I wasn’t going to be able to sit on the sidelines and cheer him on like a crazy fangirl in the stands anymore.

He promised to call me every single night. He did for his entire first season and into his second. But at some point during the preseason, when they ran him ragged, he didn’t call after practice one night.

That despondent, alone feeling clung to me all night. Even when he called in the morning and apologized for falling asleep before he’d called, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe that’s why his calling every night was a ritual that faded over the years. We still talk often, but not every night.

That same feeling of being forgotten for the happiness and hectic life he now leads without me surrounded me again as I watched the boat pull away from the dock, taking Jude and Conner away. They waved and then turned away.

Jude didn’t ask why I was staying. It’s such a trivial thing. Such a ridiculous thing to be upset about. It’s so insignificant that I feel absolutely foolish for the tight feeling in my chest. Yet, as I think about it again, I feel breathless with emotion.

I stare at the screen with Erez’s last text and read it over again.

Erez Deth

You should absolutely take that as the topmost love. I’d send psychotic help that would rescue you at all costs. Or I could fumble my way through and get us both killed. What’s your choice?

What’s your choice? Good question.