Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
F ox leads us with unerring accuracy through the building, up a flight of stairs, and out a steel door into a grassy flatland overlooking the ocean.
The door is set in a hillock and clearly leads to an underground bunker.
I wouldn’t even mention it, but damn, this place is beautiful.
Have you seen pictures of Nova Scotia? I haven’t, but now I don’t have to look them up.
It’s gorgeously green here, the ocean crashes against the cliffs a hundred feet in front of us, and beyond that, the blue-gray water goes on forever, making me feel small and insignificant in a good way.
Sometimes it’s good to remember that you’re just a tiny part of the universe as a whole.
A blip. It makes what you do now that much more important.
Fox drops Belaphor in the grass and looks to Darcy.
“You finished out your contract and found Santanos; send me the bill through the depot. It would be convenient for you to transport Romily and Bellamy home while I deal with this.” He waves over Belaphor’s body.
“And I’ll bring your athame with me when I return. ”
I look up at Fox curiously while Darcy replies.
“I’ll do it. No problem.”
Fox gives him a nod of acknowledgement and pulls me by my hips into his body. “There’s a prison for immortals north of here. I’ll fly him there and be back as soon as I can.”
I tap the wings on his back, curious if I’m about to witness what their function is.
He nods. “Yeah. But maybe you should make your last guess before I shift.”
Oooh, a shifter! Ok, a shifter with wings. Probably big since his omp is massive. Something with electricity. Possibly lightning and thunderstor—
Fuck. I should have figured it out already. I even recently read a book with this kind of shifter in it. Dammit.
Thunderbird, right?
Fox beams at me. “Sassy, beautiful, and smart. I’d marry you even if you didn’t come with a red-headed step-child.”
I laugh and press my face into the crook of his neck, blindly typing out my next message.
I ducking love you.
Eh. Autocorrect got it mostly right.
Fox chuffs at the message and kisses me, swiping his tongue along mine for too short a time before stepping back.
He gives me a wink and starts stripping off his weaponry, handing me the belts and holsters.
He notices his empty sheath for his sword and sighs.
“Will you grab my sword before you leave?”
I nod, straining to hold up the weight of his weapons. Steve Rogers I am not.
He gives me one last kiss and then runs full out toward the cliff. He jumps when he reaches the edge, spreading his arms as he falls over. A deafening boom echoes up from the cliffs, then a massive white bird shoots up. Huge. The size of a small plane.
Fox in his thunderbird form is…magnificent. Lightning crackles off his beak in a spiderweb of flashes as he gains altitude. He spreads his glorious white wings as he soars, banking to turn toward us, huge yellow-orange talons extended.
I stumble backward, retreating so that I’m not in his way when he dives for Belaphor’s body, staring up at my…everything. Damn, he’s beautiful, sexy, competent, funny—everything a man could ever hope for. I’m so fucking lucky.
Fox swoops in, grabbing Belaphor up and knocking us all on our asses with the backdraft from his wings as he flies upward with his prisoner and turns north.
I can’t help it; I stare until I can’t see him.
Only when my eyes are just playing tricks on me, trying to convince me that I can still see him, do I look back to my companions.
They’re in conversation, discussing Fox’s sword, which Bellamy holds between them, as they examine it closely.
He’s kneeling so he can hold it up to his eye level and Darcy can bend to get the same point of view.
They’re within kissing distance, and if it wasn’t for Darcy’s blatant disregard for Bellamy’s crush on him, it would be cute.
Who am I kidding? It is cute.
I pull up my phone, take a picture, and send it to Annette.
Me: Our boy’s first crush.
Daddy: He should see the demon sword. It’s way more crush-worthy.
Me: I’m actually talking about the twink with a baseball bat between his legs.
Daddy: Pics or it doesn’t exist.
Me: I’ll get one for you. Did you find the cherubs?
Daddy: I did not. *rage emoji*
Me: Darcy can track anything.
Daddy: Make him an offer.
I snap my fingers at the boys, drawing their attention, and shove my phone into Darcy’s face, letting him read the text conversation.
Darcy hands me back my phone. “I need twenty-four hours to rejuice, but I’ll help. Why didn’t you put me on that first? I’d much rather find the kids than the fuckhead.”
“Annette’s orders,” Bellamy replies, sliding the sword into its sheath.
“The other fucking Avatar.” Darcy seems to hold as much disdain for Annette as he does for Santanos.
“Minions do what we’re told. The cherubs were abducted from the processing center,” Bellamy explains as I text Annette back.
Me: He needs 24 hrs. to recover from finding Santanos, but he’ll help.
Daddy: Good. Who is he?
Me: Darcy Hellspinner. The best tracker in the immortal dimensions and that’s no exaggeration.
Daddy: He’s shorter than I expected.
Me: Everything about him is a surprise, trust me. He charmed the pants off a harpy right in front of me.
Daddy: That’s actually impressive. Harpies are notorious misandrists.
Me: She invited him for sex after we found Santanos. Also, if harpies hate men, why the hell would she be working for Santanos?
Daddy: Not all harpies are the same. Some are evil and equal opportunity.
Me: So many questions.
Daddy: AMA.
Me: Later. I need food and sleep.
I switch to the group message with Darcy.
Home. Food. Sleep. And a naked picture of your cock.
“Done,” Darcy agrees, grabbing both of our wrists and popping us from the bunker to the brownstone. Well, outside the brownstone.
Seriously, how has magic not been discovered by humans yet? We just popped into existence. On a public sidewalk. During rush hour. How? How has no one noticed magic? We’re not subtle at all.
I pat my gargoyle friends on the way by and head up to the front door. By the way, Fox is one of those crazy people who doesn’t lock his doors because he relies on his ward and reputation to keep his space safe. I’m not even sure he knows where his keys are.
If I was a thief, I’d totally scope out his place after watching me walk in the front door without unlocking it. I wouldn’t succeed because of the ward, but I would try.
And we all know wards can be broken. Belaphor proved that.
Shudder.
That makes me feel less safe. Who knows how many people he told how to get past the council’s wards? Right now, I’m grateful for Bellamy’s skills and that I stole him from Santanos. Also, Darcy knows how to break the council’s magic, and that concerns me just as much as Belaphor knowing.
I lead Bellamy and Darcy to the kitchen and point out the breakfast nook window to the back garden, shoving Bellamy toward the backdoor. We need a healthy breakfast scramble, and someone needs to scatter some seed for the sparrows.
Bellamy arches a brow at me and smirks, stopping in his tracks. “I’m not a mind reader.”
I drop my shoulders and give him a very expressive flat look, challenging him to defy me. I have zero problem embarrassing him again; I hear that’s what parents are supposed to do.
His cocky attitude wavers after a long ten seconds, then as I reach for my phone, the man suddenly realizes that he would probably prefer going out to the garden rather than finding out what I might say, and he hightails it to the backdoor.
I would have totally embarrassed him.
“You’re exceptionally skilled at nonverbal communication,” Darcy notes, studying me from his perch on the kitchen table. Not the one in the breakfast nook. This one is in the actual kitchen.
I give him a sly smile and a wink then open the fridge to grab enough veggies for a breakfast scramble.
“So, what’s with all the tables?” he asks after a minute.
I look at him, look down at my full hands, and back to him again, blinking at him like he’s stupid. I know he’s not but filling the silence with not-yes-or-no questions is dumber than a mute boy. I can say that; it’s my disability, and I can be as un-PC as I want to be when it’s convenient for me.
Darcy laughs as I prep the cutting board and knife. “Ok, yeah, that was stupid of me.”
I nod. Emphatically.
“Do you know why there are a crazy hoarder number of tables?”
I don’t, so I shake my head. I was waiting for our third date to ask. Sigh. I’m going to get my third date. It’s as inevitable as the next ice age, but maybe as far away as that.
Darcy clearly doesn’t know the meaning of silence is golden, because the man starts talking, and if I didn’t have some kind of aural fixation on his voice, I’d probably find it annoying. Unfortunately, he has a nice voice, so I let him fill the air with it.
“There’s this old man in the Arkansas Ozarks that I’ve met a couple of times.
He’s just this crazy hermit guy that everyone in the area talks about in rumors.
Anyway, he’s human but so old that most people think he’s a ghost or just a tall tale.
Occasionally a tourist or hiker will spot the old mountain man and get a blurry picture.
It’s entertaining for everyone. Anyway, I asked him how old he was, and he told me that he shared a birthday with Rube Goldberg .
You know, the guy who invented the crazy contraptions that do useless shit?
I looked it up and that guy was born July 4, 1883.
The old mountain man is still alive. If he isn’t lying, and the dude looks old as fuck, he’s pushing a hundred and forty years old… ”
And on. It’s interesting information, but he’s just talking to fill the silence, so there’s no point to it. My disability makes some people uncomfortable. Confidence is sexy, and my estimation of Darcy’s sex appeal is dropping by the word.
Man needs to learn that trying to make up for my silence is the equivalent of telling me that there’s something wrong with me, and that’s just offensive. I have it on good authority that I’m perfect. Fox told me so.
It takes forever, and I’m well into sautéing the vegetables, but Bellamy finally returns with his harvest. I turn to give him my finally -look and freeze.
Oh my god.
He scowls at me as he tosses the vegetable onto the counter.
His hair and shoulders are covered in wet spots of bird shit.
I press my lips together as tight as I can, trying to suppress my laughter.
He looks so mad. So very, very mad. Furious.
Red-faced fury that just keeps getting darker the longer I stare at him.
“Did you know that sparrows are like crows and will shit bomb you for no reason?” he asks with a deceptively mild tone.
I slowly shake my head, pressing my lips into the tightest line I can make them. I can’t do anything about the mirth in my eyes, but I make an effort because I actually need Bellamy to save me from Darcy.
Although, from the looks of it, he needs a shower more than I need saving.
With one hand, I type a message to him, deliberately leaving Darcy out.
In the future, we can leave the outside chores for Fox. Will you please show Darcy where to freshen up? I might accidentally stab him if you don’t. You can use the master bathroom to clean up. The shower in there is nicer.
Bellamy’s fury dissipates as he reads my words, and he shoots Darcy a totally noticeable surprised expression before looking back at me. “Sure.”
I smile at him and find a place on him that isn’t covered in shit to pat.
You’re the best son ever.
He glowers at me, but since I didn’t send that in a group text, he can’t be mad at me for embarrassing him.