37. Chapter Thirty-Seven - Desiree
Hours after Vyvyan’s dismissal, I shift my duffel bag higher on my shoulder and text Jaxson with one hand, asking him to meet me at Wilder’s loft.
If his offer to help me raise the Balam is still good, I will take it.
This might be my only shot to prove myself to Vyvyan.
The door to my old apartment groans.
As I step inside, the aroma of garlic and ginger wafts over me, transporting me back to the nights Wilder would cook for us when my parents didn’t come home.
I drop my bag by the door, taking in Wilder’s changes to the space.
The floral couch I once snagged at a yard sale is gone, replaced by a sleek gray sectional that looks like it belongs in a magazine.
An industrial coffee table sits atop a patterned rug, and I notice that the mismatched outdoor table and chairs are absent.
I cross my arms.
Wilder has developed a knack for interior design, or he’s had help.
Judging by the decorative pillows and scented candles strategically placed throughout the room, I’d bet on the latter.
While I appreciate the aesthetic appeal of the renovations, my heart splinters.
Nothing reminds me of the life I once had in this apartment.
I bought this place on my own after finishing my residency at the hospital.
It was meant to be my first step into the world as a true adult—a symbol of my independence and hard work.
But life had other plans, and I gave it up.
After Vane turned me into a vampire, I bequeathed the apartment to my brother, hoping it would serve as a haven for him if he ever needed it.
The neighborhood isn’t the best, but the building had recently undergone renovations, and the purchase didn’t put too much of a dent in my savings, which Wilder inherited as well.
The clanging of pans snaps me out of my reverie.
I’m not alone.
My vampire senses pick up on a heartbeat in the kitchen.
I step inside, each footfall measured and deliberate.
A witch with striking purple hair stands at the stove, tossing noodles in a sizzling pan.
He’s wearing headphones, and the faint strains of melancholic music seep from the buds.
Pallas Lyra is here, in the apartment.
The former Nyx member, who helped diffuse the capitol bombing and earned Wilder’s respect—and his friendship.
The personal touches around the place suggest he’s living here with my brother.
Bursting in unannounced like this .
.
.
I should have called first.
The clatter of a pan on the stove draws a smile.
While I crave the constant chaos of the Nest, what if Pallas wants his space?
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Jax
I’m in the neighborhood.
Be there in ten.
I cram the phone back into my jeans.
“I hope you made enough for two,” I shout.
Pallas stiffens, then turns to face me.
His eyes widen as he takes in my oversized hoodie, baggy jeans, and well-worn boots.
Then, a small smile spreads across his freckled face.
He points his spoon at me.
“You must be Desiree.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“What gave me away?”
“Family resemblance.” He grins.
As I smile in return, my fangs are on display, but Pallas’s heartbeat remains steady.
He returns to his stir fry, and I decide I like him.
“Twins often look alike,” I say as he switches off the burner.
He opens a nearby cupboard and retrieves plates from the shelf where I had once planned to store the cups.
It takes a moment for me to adjust, reminding myself that I am merely a visitor now; this is no longer my home.
Setting his earbuds on the counter, Pallas says, “It’s more than that. You two carry yourselves the same. As if you’re entirely comfortable in your skin, a confidence that can’t be faked.”
I snort.
Wilder might be confident, but me?
I’ve always been a fish out of water.
As a witch, no matter how hard I tried to be people’s friend, they still disliked me.
At least as a vampire, I’ve tasted acceptance—a taste I’ll savor forever, a taste I’ll do anything to get back.
I glance at the clock above the stove.
It’s only been five minutes.
Jax isn’t late.
“You don’t have to make me a plate,” I tell him.
Pallas gestures to the mountain of noodles.
“I made enough.”
“I’m on a strictly liquid diet these days.”
A flush colors his cheeks as he laughs, and I can’t help but join him.
I haven’t experienced such kinship with a stranger in what feels like forever, not since Misty.
The thought cuts me short.
“Well, you can at least sit with me while I eat,” he offers, sitting at the small bistro table in the corner.
“Unless you’re here to eat me, in which case, I’d prefer a quick death.”
“Careful, that almost sounds like an invitation.”
Pallas shrugs.
“After today, I’d almost welcome it,” he says amicably, but his words have a tinge of sadness.
I settle into the seat across from him.
“Care to share? I’m always eager to hear a good story, especially one that ends with a death wish.”
Pallas chews a mouthful of food.
“I don’t see the harm in telling you, given you’re Wilder’s sister.”
“What happened?”
“I got into trouble and am being sent to Aurora because of it—a banishment disguised as a favor.”
I nod, a strange sense of camaraderie washing over me.
I understand what it’s like to have nowhere to go and live off the generosity of others.
It’s often charity that comes with a price.
“If it makes you feel any better, I also got banished,” I offer.
Surprise ignites in Pallas’s eyes, and he sets aside his fork.
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
I size Pallas up, considering how much to reveal.
Given that I’ll return to the Nest soon, I see no harm in commiserating with him.
After all, there’s a chance we may never see each other again.
“Someone summoned a daemon to murder Vyvyan,” I say, deadpan, gauging his reaction.
Pallas blinks once.
“Vyvyan hates me, and to get back into her good graces, I told her I’d find her attacker, except they got to her a second time before I got to them. I had no choice but to leave the Nest willingly or get thrown out on my ass.”
“Not much of a choice, huh?” Pallas says.
I smile.
“Not at all. But Jaxson’s helping me find the attacker, return to the Nest, and reclaim my place.” Pallas laughs, and I fold my arms.
“What?”
“That’s what Jaxson said, huh?”
Before I can answer, there’s a knock on the front door.
It creaks open.
“Anyone home?” Jaxson calls out.
My eyes close, unable to hide my relief.
No matter how tough things get, I can always rely on Jaxson to come through in a pinch.
“In here!” I answer.
A second later, Jaxson appears in the kitchen, which is far too small for three people.
But Pallas is almost done eating.
Jaxson nods to him in greeting, unsurprised to find him here, telling me they have stayed in touch since I saw them together at Little Death.
Before I can dwell too much on what that could mean, Jaxson kisses me on the head, and warmth spreads through my body, chasing away the cold that has lingered since leaving the Nest.
He then inspects the leftover noodles and fixes himself a plate.
“I hear you’re helping Desiree return to the Nest,” Pallas asks.
There’s a slight undertone to his words that I can’t quite place.
Teasing?
Plate in hand, Jax spins to face us.
“You sound surprised.”
“Only because I know there are other things you are supposed to be doing while Wilder is away. Have you even tried to find Marl?—”
“Wait,” I say to Pallas.
“You never said what you did to warrant a one way ticket to Aurora.”
Jax goes quiet as Pallas’s face falls.
“I wiretapped and broke into the president’s house.”
While I gasp, Jaxson mumbles, “Dumbass.”
Pallas and I glare at him.
He’s never had to resort to desperate measures to get what he wants.
Things come easily to Jaxson.
If he’d try a little harder, he’d have the world at his fingertips.
“She found out?” I ask Pallas.
“Yes, Janus confronted Leigh about it. I guess I violated a few laws. Leigh is sending me to Aurora to keep me out of Kratos.” He takes another bite.
The sound of his grinding teeth fills the room.
I may live underground, but even I know that Pallas’s family and friends are in Kratos, and his testimony helped put them there.
Our country owes him a lot, yet we repay him by sending him packing.
This is why I don’t miss being a human.
They don’t value loyalty.
Pallas sighs and turns to Jaxson.
“Did Soter catch the person who attacked Leigh?”
Wait.
Leigh got attacked?
“No, but we have the city surrounded. No one is getting in or out of Borealis without Soter’s knowing,” Jax replies.
I stare between them.
“Am I missing something?”
“Leigh almost got kidnapped earlier today,” Jax replies.
Well, shit.
“Are there any leads?”
“A few. But none that are tangible.”
“What does Wilder think?”
“No one’s heard from him, not since . . .” Jaxson trails off, sharing another guarded look with Pallas.
I groan.
They are keeping things from me, and I hate it.
“Since when? Where is my brother?”
“Did you like your flower?” Pallas asks, changing the subject.
“ What? ”
“He means the flower I gave you on our date,” Jax supplies.
I frown at him.
It wasn’t a date.
“The dahlia?” I ask.
“Jax never said it was from you.”
“You’re a jerk,” Pallas says to Jax, but he’s smiling as he says it.
Jaxson smirks.
“You like that about me.”
I glance between my ex and Pallas, suddenly reminded of their history.
Jax and Pallas shared much more than a kiss during their visit to Little Death.
I got an eyeful of them with their tongues down each other’s throats before I hurried off to deliver drinks, trying to process what I had just witnessed.
Leigh had grabbed me while in search of Vane, but she’d been with Wilder, and I was so paranoid he’d recognize me that I finished my shift early and returned to the Nest.
However, upon my return, I was immediately summoned to the throne room for Zev’s trial.
I glance at Pallas, noticing his purple hair, and my heart constricts.
It’s the same shade of the girl the two of them were also with that night.
Selene?
It must be for her.
“So, Desiree, with a kidnapper on the loose, if I don’t return to the streets soon, Soter may fire me, and I don’t need another reason to hate him,” Jaxson says.
“What did you want to ask me?”
I sit straighter.
“I want to raise Balam.”
Jax blinks, then he nods slowly.
“Okay. I’ll just need to make some calls for supplies.”
“How long will that take?” I ask.
We have to do this as fast as possible before the attacker strikes again.
“Desiree,” Pallas snaps.
“Your plan is to raise a daemon ? Fuck that. Fuck Vyvyan. Just come with me to Aurora.”
I blink as Jaxson’s jaw hardens.
“What would I do in Aurora?”
The sun shines there three hundred and sixty-three days a year.
I’ve heard the vampire community is tiny and wary of outsiders.
They also answer to Vyvyan.
Pallas shrugs.
“We don’t know each other, but take this chance to start over.”
My gaze falls to the kitchen floor.
Pallas makes it sound so easy—a fresh start, a new beginning.
But is that what I want?
I glance at Jaxson, whose eyes are intent, waiting to see how I’ll answer, and my heart restricts.
I don’t want to be alone.
“I’m staying.”
Jaxson barely manages to hide his smile behind another bite of food.
Pallas shrugs and gathers his belongings.
He touches my shoulder and says, “Be good to Jax,” before leaving me in the kitchen with my ex.
“I have to run, too,” Jaxson announces as he scrapes leftover food into the trash.
“I’ll text you when we can pick up the supplies. Shouldn’t take more than a day.”
I nod but say nothing.
Am I making the right decision?
“Don’t worry, it won’t be like when Leigh raised the Harborym,” Jax says, mistaking my silence for fear.
“The Balam obeys its summoner. You’ll be completely safe with me.” He pinches my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“I’m glad you stayed, sunshine.”
“Same.”
But then his attention falls on my painted lips.
Jax wants to kiss me.
Is that what I want, though?
Fresh from the Nest, I’m hardly at my strongest.
Yet, my fingers ache to grab his uniform, pull him close, and meld our breaths into one.
The other night, he told me how he felt about me.
I should stop pining for what was and start living for what could be.
I don’t want to have regrets.
He clears his throat.
“Maybe watch some TV and consider how you want to tell me about what?—”
I grip his jacket, rise on my toes, and press my lips to his.
It’s like coming home.
Jaxson wraps his arms around me, tugging me until I am pressed against him.
I open my mouth to deepen the kiss, but Jaxson pulls away with a smile.
“As much as I hate to say it, I really have to go.”
I blink.
“Oh, okay.”
“But we should talk.”
Unable to talk, I nod.
What the hell did I just do?
After I release him, Jax leaves, and I am truly alone for the first time in ages.
I toss my phone atop the coffee table, flipping on the TV.
The sounds of fucking saturate the space.
A porno blazes in the dim living room light.
I shriek, hastily trying to turn it off, but I somehow turn it up.
The last thing I need is for that nosy pink-haired neighbor to knock on my door again.
The last time I was here was with Vane, weeks before I became a vampire.
We’d been spending all our time together, and I was so excited to show off my big-girl purchase to my vampire boyfriend.
At least, I wanted Vane to be my boyfriend, but he never asked, nor had we had sex yet.
I’d wanted to change that to finally close the chapter of my life titled Jaxson .
I didn’t have keys to the loft at the time, so we broke in by jimmying a window over the fire escape.
I showed him all 1,200 square feet, deciding to turn it into a game by removing an article of clothing each step of the way until I was completely naked in the living room.
I didn’t have to beg.
We ended up screwing on the hardwood floor.
After months of pent-up desire, we hadn’t held back, and the neighbors called the authorities.
With a shake of my head to dislodge the memory, I turn off whatever program Pallas had been enjoying, but it does nothing for the throbbing need surging through me.
Personal space was a luxury in the Nest, but here, in this suffocating solitude, the walls pressed in close.
It was almost intimate.
I fall back onto the couch.
Lifting the edge of my hoodie, I pop the button of my jeans and slip my hand beneath the elastic of my panties, my fingers finding the warm, eager wetness below.
A shock of pleasure jolts through me at the first touch.
My back arches, a surprised gasp escaping me, loud in the stillness.
I start slow, circling my aching clit, then pick up the pace.
Jaxson’s image—his tender expressions and solid, inviting frame—fills my mind, heightening the intensity of each caress.
The mounting pressure pushes me toward the edge until the dam bursts.
I cry out, lost in ecstasy, as my body shudders.
But as I float back down, it’s not Jaxson’s name that slips from my lips in a breathless whisper.
It’s Vane’s.
A pang of something complicated stirs within me.
I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything.
It’s just lingering memories from being in this place.
But the truth is written in my racing pulse’s insistent thrums.
No matter how much I hate him, I’m not over him.
Rolling over, I groan.
Vane ruins everything.
“Leave me alone!” I scream my shame in the pillows, wishing I could bury my feelings just as quickly, smothering them until they die.