Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Dax
It was two o’clock in the morning, and Dax was having no luck quietly going through the office.
Again. He’d been sneaking down here every night the two weeks he’d now been here.
There were just so many…things. Holding each book and concentrating on it took time, as did picking up each and every knick-knack.
The whole time he searched, Everett stayed on his mind.
Dax was positive that whatever was putting out this dark-feeling magic was why he’d been attacked.
He had no explanation for how he knew—it was just a gut feeling.
Nothing else had happened, but they’d stuck close to this house, so maybe whoever was after Everett just hadn’t gotten a chance at him again.
He picked up yet another small figurine of an angel and closed his eyes as he held it. Nothing. Growing frustrated, he thought of calling Xavier, who was often up late, but probably not this late, so he held off.
There was a cracking noise, and he looked down with dismay to see he’d broken off one of the angel’s wings.
“Shit,” he murmured softly as he set the pieces on the desk and opened the top drawer to look for glue.
It was hard to see without much light coming into the room, so he flipped on a small lamp on the desk.
There was a tube of superglue in the top drawer, so he sat down to glue the figurine back together, feeling just awful that his big hands had ruined it.
He’d been so careful with all these small treasures, too.
He would still have to tell Everett about this, but he worked to piece it back together, then carefully laid it out to dry.
Sticking with books, he methodically went from shelf to shelf, holding each one and concentrating, which was difficult when his thoughts were full of how much he wanted Everett.
He’d loved every moment of being around him during the past weeks.
Once he’d learned of Everett’s work, a lot of their conversations had turned to plots, and he found the way Everett’s mind worked fascinating.
Dax had also been reading his work and found it intelligent and extremely well-written.
He was just completely fascinated by the man.
He’d never felt this way about anyone before.
He’d loved twice in his long lifetime. He’d had his heart broken both times, but even then, he hadn’t felt this kind of obsession.
Everett ticked all his boxes. Intelligent conversation, chemistry through the roof, and a warm and caring personality that appealed to Dax so very much.
He wanted to introduce the man to his parents, who would no doubt love him.
He wanted to get to know more about him. And fuck, he wanted to touch him.
Dax looked down at his big hands that had just broken something fragile.
He curled them into fists and closed his eyes.
All this thinking was ridiculous. Everett didn’t see through his glamour.
He couldn’t be a soulmate. It was just that Dax felt like he was.
That he was the one. Felt it in his soul.
His conclusion to all the research he’d done proved that a soulmate would take on traits that complemented the preternatural.
Everett would become stronger. It wasn’t that Dax couldn’t be with him otherwise, but there would always be that worry.
He’d seen the unfortunate results of an ogre who’d lost himself to passion with a human.
He couldn’t live with himself if he ever hurt Everett.
A noise on the stairs alerted him to Everett moving through the house. He switched off the lamp and walked into the hall, making sure to make enough noise with his steps so he didn’t startle the man.
“Hey,” Everett said softly. “What are you doing up? Can’t sleep either?”
“I was just making rounds. Checking that the house is secure.” He could hardly see Everett in the darkness of the hall, just his outline as he walked closer.
“Want to have a drink with me? Being up in the middle of the night is pretty standard for me, but I’m usually alone, so I’d love the company.
” Everett didn’t wait for an answer as he walked toward the bar in the family room.
He flipped on a couple of lamps that threw soft light into the room. “What’s your poison?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine.”
“I’m in the mood for something sweet, so I’m having a little of my grandfather’s creme de menthe. He always sipped it in the evenings, so there are several bottles of it. He’s on my mind tonight, so it seems fitting. That work for you?” He glanced at Dax as he set down two tumblers.
Dax wasn’t a huge fan of the minty liqueur, but he nodded anyway. He took the glass and watched Everett move to the huge sectional couch. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“Insomnia is my nightly companion. I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it’s been worse lately, and I’m old enough that I’m feeling it during the day. On the plus side, I do get a lot of work written in the early morning hours. I just finished a chapter of a new urban fantasy I’m working on.”
“I didn’t realize you published that genre.”
“I haven’t. But the ideas have been simmering for some time. With all my grandfather’s books, I have all the research I could ever need. I took a few to the room with me and got inspired while reading.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Sit down and keep me company for a few?”
Dax took the other side of the sectional.
Sitting that close to the cuddly-looking Everett wouldn’t be good for him.
He cradled the tumbler of clear alcohol—he’d been expecting it to be green—then took a sip.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise at the hints of vanilla, lemon and white chocolate. “This is actually good.”
Everett chuckled. “It’s a little more complex than cheaper brands. Did you know that the green ones are full of artificial color?”
“I didn’t. I’ve never been a fan of the liqueur, to be honest.”
Everett waved his hand at the full cabinet of spirits.
“You could have chosen something else, but I’m glad you gave this a try.
When Wilson discovered this one, he stocked up because it’s not that easy to find in the States.
” He looked down at his glass and swirled the liquid around. “But it makes me miss him more.”
Seeing Everett’s features tighten in grief sent an empathetic pang into his own chest. “Tell me about him.”
“Wilson was the best grandfather, and I loved him very much. He didn’t even hesitate to take me in when I lost my parents and he was grieving hard over their loss.
My parents were close to him. We used to have dinners here once a week.
After they died, he moved me in here as soon as I got out of the hospital and made me feel welcome and wanted. I couldn’t have asked for more.”
“You were in the hospital?”
Everett’s features tightened. “I was in the car with them when we had the accident, and…” He paused and visibly swallowed before looking at Dax. “It was my fault they were killed.”
Dax’s heart skipped a beat at the guilt that shadowed Everett’s features. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No, it is. I was eight years old and completely addicted to my Gameboy. My parents had taken it away for reasons I can’t even remember.
But I was in the backseat, arguing my case, and my father turned to say something to me.
A deer ran into the road, and my dad turned back and swerved.
” He looked away, lips pinched tight. “I was in that car with my dead parents until the morning. Awake and in pain from a broken shoulder. I still…have nightmares about it. They aren’t as bad as they were when I first came to live here, but they still creep up on me at times. ”
Dax’s chest ached at the story, and he leaned forward to set his glass on the coffee table. “Everett, you can’t blame yourself for something like that. It was an accident.”
“If my father hadn’t been arguing with me, he would have seen the deer sooner.
I never told my grandfather about that part because the guilt was just so bad when I was a boy.
Guilt and nightmares. At one point, Wilson moved my bed into his room because I was waking screaming so often, it was easier for him to calm me down.
He was truly the best grandfather a boy could hope for.
” He curled his legs under him. “He knew so many fun stories based in myths and lores from different countries and loved nothing more than sharing them with me. You’d think I would have thought to write paranormal stories earlier since I grew up hearing them.
” He took a sip from his glass. “But I didn’t mean to bring us both down.
Didn’t mean to share my grief.” He shook his head, then smiled. “Ever taken any classes on mythology?”
“No, but I have studied it quite a bit.” Mostly just to marvel over how wrong a lot of people got the stories that were actually true.
Like ogres, for example. Big, lumbering, and dumb.
The big and lumbering part might be accurate, but he’d always resented the dumb part.
He even hated how Cambion demons had that reputation when their inability to vocalize their thoughts easily was all that made them seem that way.
He wanted to talk about this with Everett so much right then, the words burned the tip of his tongue.
But to this man, those stories were pure fiction and fantasy, so he picked up his glass and let the burn of alcohol chase away his desire to share.
When he looked back at Everett, he found the man studying him and was pleased to see that look of remembered pain had been replaced with a soft smile.
“You’re really easy to talk to, Dax. I feel like we could be good…friends.”
Dax couldn’t help but wonder over the hesitation there.
Had he planned to say something different?
“I’d like that,” he answered. “And as your friend, I will say again that what happened when you were a child was really not your fault. You shouldn’t be carrying around an ounce of guilt over it, and I’m sorry your childhood was tarnished with so much of it. ”
Everett shrugged. “Can’t change the past, but I did honestly have a great childhood.
My parents were loving and fun, and then I had Wilson.
” He drained his glass and uncurled his legs to stand up.
“I think I can sleep now. Thanks for the company.” He held out his hand for Dax’s empty glass. “Are you going to go to bed, too?”
Dax nodded and stood, which placed him closer to Everett than he should be.
So close he could feel the warmth from his body and smell the subtle citrus and spice of his cologne.
They stared at each other, and he got the feeling Everett wanted to say something else, but instead, he just turned to take the glasses back to the sink at the bar.
“I’ll just say goodnight, then. Thanks for being here, Dax.”
Dax watched Everett leave the room before he moved to turn off the lamps. The whole time, his heart felt three sizes too big for his chest. Everett was a lonely man, and Dax wanted so much to change that.