Chapter 4
Angel grocery shopped like he ran an assault drill, precision-guided and ruthlessly efficient.
We filled two carts, paid, and dropped supplies at Grandpa’s before heading home.
The entire operation took under ninety minutes.
The only thing worse than the grocery haul?
The inevitable death march across the parking garage, to the elevator, and then down the hall with enough bags to feed a teenage bottomless pit.
At least I’d gotten Ivan eating on the regular.
I should’ve known the murder twins would be lying in wait.
Keanan and Sylas leaned against the wall near my parking spot, arms crossed, shadows stretching long under the fluorescent garage lights.
My gut twisted with anxiety. Had Ivan complained about being left alone?
He occasionally texted, but rarely called while I was at work.
Would Xavier stick him in the community center while I was in the field next week?
I’d been battling worry about leaving him alone that long and debated sending him to Grandpa for the week, or to Xavier.
Ivan wasn’t a puppy to be boarded, but I hated the idea of him alone for that long.
Angel pulled into my assigned spot and popped the trunk. The twins stalked over before the engine even died.
“You get the stuff we added?” Keanan asked, grabbing bags.
“The list Ivan sent?” I asked, hauling up as many bags as I could carry, eyeing Sylas’s scowl.
“Obviously. Not like we’re allowed to text you,” Sylas muttered.
“Huh? Why wouldn’t you be allowed to text me?” My gaze cut to Angel, who shrugged. He didn’t know either. “Did Ivan say that?”
“No.” Keanan hoisted a tower of bags like they weighed nothing. At least they were useful. Talking to these two was like interrogating a brick wall. One-word answers, glares, and enough subtext to drown in.
“Should I be worried that you guys are skulking around my place?”
“Just looking after the kid,” Keanan said.
“Something you should be doing,” Sylas growled.
I flinched as we all crammed into the elevator. Angel positioned himself between me and the twins, a silent barrier.
“Ivan is fine,” Keanan said, though I wasn’t certain if it was to his twin or me.
Sylas’s nose twitched.
“You smell like fae,” he accused, gaze narrowing on me.
“No,” Angel said.
I frowned. “What does fae smell like?”
“Lightning and lies,” Sylas said.
“Secrets and magic,” Keanan added, staring straight ahead at the doors.
“No fae,” Angel repeated.
I shrugged. “I have a new teammate who’s fae variant,” I offered, though I knew it wasn’t Remi he smelled.
Sylas’s glare could’ve stripped paint. “And your mate’s fine with you rolling around with other males?”
Angel scowled. “No.”
Not touching that. I leaned into Angel’s back, letting his shoulder block the twins’ presence until the elevator dinged, and we made our way down the long hall.
Home.
Ivan materialized the second the door opened, strawberry-blond ponytail bobbing, pajama-clad and barefoot. “Grandpa said you brought him enough rations to survive the apocalypse.”
“Prepping for next week.” I nudged inside, scanning him. “You eat today?”
Angel took the bags from the twins, setting the haul on the kitchen counters, and shut the door in their face.
“Uh...” I said. “Isn’t that sort of rude? They helped.”
“They are only here to keep an eye on your brother, which they don’t need to do when we are home,” Angel said as he headed into the kitchen to unpack everything. The man was a master in the kitchen, but we took turns making meals.
“I ate today,” Ivan answered. “Not dinner, since you said you’d be home for dinner.”
I dumped my haul on the counter. Ivan hovered, tugging at the hem of his shirt. I knew he had a virtual therapy appointment today, but he also hadn’t checked in at lunchtime.
“You good?” I asked.
“Fine.”
Bullshit.
I leaned against the counter. “Ivy...”
He shrugged, eyes darting to Angel, who unpacked groceries with deliberate slowness, giving us space, though I knew he heard every word.
“You know how it is. Working through stuff,” Ivan muttered.
And I left him alone. “I’m sorry, Ivy...”
“No. Don’t be sorry. I’m fine. Really.”
I remembered being anything but fine at sixteen and alone. “I’ve been thinking. Next week, maybe you should stay with Grandpa. Or Xavier could set you up at the community center.” He liked hanging out there. “You can bring your computer and not be alone all day.”
Ivan’s head snapped up. “What? No.”
“It’s just a week.”
“I’m fine here.” His voice cracked, and he flushed, crossing his arms.
Angel set down a bottle of hot sauce. “Jude’s not saying you can’t handle it.”
“Then what is he saying?” Ivan challenged. His gaze turned on me. “What are you saying?”
“That I’m worried. You’ve got therapy, school, and the twins stalking the building like creepy guard dogs. If something happened and I’m not here...”
“Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m not a kid!” He kicked the kitchen island, then winced and fisted his hands at his sides. I’d rather he rage than sink into depression, but I needed to know where we stood. If his SI was acting up, I couldn’t leave him alone.
“I’ve got the military stalking me, Ivy. And some supernatural shadow god. What if they come here, looking for me, and find you? If something happens to you… fuck. I’d unravel if they hurt you.”
Ivan wrapped me in a hug. “Why are you like this?”
“Which this are we talking about? The brother who forgets to check in at lunch, or the supernatural trouble magnet?”
“You’re too nice. But both of those, yes.”
“Yeah, well, I tased a god today. A million volts of fuck off, and the bastard still ghosted on me. Now I’ve got paperwork up to my ass and a vampire giving me the silent treatment like I ruined his manicure because I told him to stop gnawing on the bear and he actually listened.”
Ivan blinked. “You commanded a vampire?”
“It was an accident.”
“And tased a god? Do you have a death wish?”
“I wonder that every day,” Angel said from his place near the fridge.
I threw my hands up in defeat. “The training exercise read: simple recovery op. Deserted warehouse, one damsel, but surprise, it was Count Grumpula. Supposed to be easy in and out. But nooo, some shadow bastard spooked the hellhounds and added me to the menu after probably, maybe, eating my ex-boyfriend. And no, not the fun kind of eating. Then we got the zombie vampire surprise party. Turns out when you mix necromancy with bloodsuckers, everybody loses, and I’m on the Pentagon’s radar. Today can officially go bite itself.”
“Who’s the grumpy one?” Angel asked.
Ivan stared at me as if I’d grown two heads.
“Ever accidentally commanded a vampire?” I asked my brother.
“No.”
“I think I’d rather turn into a cat,” I told him and kicked off my grimy shoes onto the mat by the door.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“So would you like to maybe visit the weird supernatural dude that is probably better equipped to protect you while I’m gone, or hide with Grandpa?”
“Can I think about it?” Ivan asked and chewed his lip.
“Sure. You have all weekend.”
Ivan hesitated a long minute. “You said warehouse. Is that why you smell like a dumpster filled with expired sushi.”
I squawked. “What? No, I don’t.”
“It’s not that bad, but yeah,” Angel agreed. “You do. Maybe go hop in the shower while I make dinner.”
Ivan wrinkled his nose and took a step back. “I can toss your clothes down the trash chute.”
“I like these clothes.” Or had when I put them on this morning.
I grumbled my way to the bathroom, annoyed with all the hyper-sniffing shifters in my life.
But as soon as I turned the water on and steam began to fill the bathroom, all my irritation melted away.
And Angel left his shower gel in there, which meant I could act like a love-sick idiot with no one watching and scrub with his soap.
I rinsed off, shut down the water, and stepped out to dry myself but caught my reflection in the fogged mirror.
My back was bare. The tattoo of the dragon, gone.
I spun, wiping the mirror frantically. Nothing.
Just pale, bare skin. It hadn’t moved since I’d rescued the little critter more than a week ago.
Angel suspected it was resting, maybe regenerating its magic, and suggested we keep an eye on it as it created helpful shields and healing for me rather than acting with malice. But now that it was gone?
Shit.
How? When?
I yanked on sweatpants and a tee, heart hammering. Where had it gone? Had the shadow god taken it? No. The twins smelled the fae in the elevator. Then where?
I burst into the living room and froze.
A fluffy smoke-gray Maine Coon kitten batted at Peanut Butter’s tail; its oversized paws comically uncoordinated. Ivan sat cross-legged on the floor, grinning as the kitten pounced between a crumpled receipt, Peanut Butter’s tail, and Ivan’s outstretched hands.
Angel leaned against the kitchen counter; arms crossed. Our eyes met. His gaze flicked to the kitten, then back to me. A tiny shrug. Kitten equals fae?
The gray puff ball slid himself along Peanut Butter’s side as if the two were the best of friends, then wound himself around Ivan’s legs for snuggles, plopping down in his lap.
“He’s really cute,” Ivan said, rubbing the cat’s belly. “Crawled out of your work bag. Why didn’t you say something?”
One hundred percent not really a kitten.
The kitten blinked up at me with dark purple eyes, too knowing. Weren’t all kitten’s eyes blue? And grown Maine Coons green or gold? I let out a long breath, trying to stem my worry.
“What are we going to call him?” Ivan asked.
“Nox,” I said without thought. As if the critter put the name in my head. The kitten blinked, a long, slow close and open of his eyes, then tucked himself nose to tail in Ivan’s lap. Could my brother sense the cat wasn’t a normal cat?
“Dinner will be ready in ten,” Angel said, eyeing our new addition. “I unpacked the rest of your work bag and the books Remi pulled for you.” He sighed. “It’s all basic practitioner theory.”
I flipped through the stack on the counter, annoyed with the same recycled crap I’d skimmed last week. One had tabs marking “Light Manifestation” and “Shielding Basics.” The latter might be useful.
“I was hoping for something more specific to my variance,” I grumbled, leaning into Angel’s space as he pulled peppers from the air fryer. He rubbed my back with his free hand, and I sank into his touch. “Unless you think I can defeat evil with glowsticks and salt circles.”
Ivan stood, cradling Nox like a football as he made his way over. “Dinner smells really good.” He paused beside the stack of books. “What about this one? Fleshcraft: An Artisan’s Guide. Sounds like a smutty novel.”
My mouth dropped open and I began to protest as I followed his gaze to the tome in question. The book on top of the stack on the counter definitely hadn’t been there thirty seconds ago. Bound in black leather, so smooth it shone with an iridescent rainbow where the kitchen light hit it.
Ivan picked it up. “Looks like necromancer stuff.”
I grabbed it from him, and with the touch, ice shot up my arm. “Please tell me this is some explicit sex guide for necromancers.”
Angel snorted. “As if you need help with that.”
“It’s not bound in something gross like human skin, right?”
“Smells like cow,” Ivan said, dropping the book back on the stack. “I really hope it’s not a sex guide. Gross. Why are old people so gross?”
“Excuse me, I’m not old,” I told my little brother.
Angel snatched up the book, flipping pages with a frown.
“What do you see?” He held up the book, open to a set of pages.
The Preservation of Mortal Vessels, a flesh-adhesion guide.
A diagram of a body stretched between the two pages, indicating stitches, and lines with scribbled handwriting adding more personalized notes.
“Instructions on keeping a body fresh,” I said as I took in the long list of details and remarks left by the last user. “For reuse.”
Angel turned it to Ivan. “And what do you see?”
I flinched, not wanting Ivan to see something like that, but he shrugged. “Nothing. The pages are blank.”
“Are you messing with me?” I demanded as I grabbed the book back and flipped through it. Every page brimmed with spells about raising bodies, settling spirits, stitching souls back into rotting meat. My magic buzzed beneath my skin, resonating with the text.
I snapped the book shut and shoved it at Angel, heart racing. “I don’t want this.”
“But wouldn’t it be better to know how to use your power? So, it doesn’t use you?” Ivan asked. “I hated when I couldn’t control my cat. The shift would happen and I’d be afraid of being stuck in between and not know how to change back. And Mom and Dad refused to help.”
I tugged Ivan into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“But that’s my point. This stuff is scary because it’s unfamiliar. Wouldn’t it be better to understand?”
“No. I don’t know.” I couldn’t look at Angel, fearing I’d see the horror on his face. He hated practitioners and SVs, and was mated to me. Would he see me as a monster, too?
Strong hands clasped my shoulders, and Ivan turned me to face Angel. The book sat on the counter, but Angel wrapped me up in a nearly suffocating hug. I fought back tears and nausea at the same time.
“Ivan’s not wrong,” Angel said. “It’s probably better to know than stick your head in the dirt.” He brushed a kiss across my cheek. “Let’s eat first, and maybe rest. Then we’ll worry about it. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, but even from three feet away I could hear the book whispering. And the worst part? Some secret part of me wanted to know.