Chapter 23
The Gray Council agents showed up at the lab about twenty minutes after Dolores’s phone call.
I wanted to leave before then, but I knew we had to stay and make sure Addison was taken care of.
Not because I cared what happened to her.
I didn’t. But after everything she’d done, after all the lies and experiments and stolen years, I wanted to see this through to the end.
Besides, if we’d left and she’d somehow escaped, I’d never forgive myself.
My anxiety would have built a summer home around that possibility and moved in permanently.
She was still on the floor when they put her on a gurney, her body locked in some strange position.
One arm looked twisted at an angle that made my own shoulder ache in sympathy.
Her breathing came in ragged bursts. Every now and then a tremor would ripple through her body and her fingers would curl involuntarily against the straps.
I’d watched as they hauled her away, not angry anymore, just numb and glad it was finally over.
The rage had burned itself out somewhere between finding Darian and listening to Addison explain why she thought aging my son a decade qualified as reasonable scientific procedure.
Looking back, that conversation alone should probably have earned her some kind of award.
Not a good award. More like a cautionary plaque mounted on a wall somewhere.
After that, we all piled into two large SUVs that belonged to Ronin’s friends.
One was, surprisingly, another half-vampire called Jake, and the other driver was a Dark fae called Max who had so many tattoos I couldn’t see a patch of his original skin.
Every visible inch of him seemed covered in ink of dragons, symbols, runes, and even a skull wearing sunglasses.
At least I thought it was wearing sunglasses.
It could have been reading a newspaper. A lot was happening on that man’s arms. I found myself staring so long I started trying to identify individual tattoos but eventually gave up.
It looked like someone had spilled an entire art gallery on him.
Marcus, with Darian in his arms, Iris, and I piled into the first SUV with Max while Ronin and my aunts got into the other.
Beverly called dibs on the front seat before anyone could argue.
Ruth spent several minutes trying to convince Jake that her goggles improved peripheral vision.
Dolores looked like she was already mentally drafting three separate reports for the Gray Council about procedural failures, magical ethics, and probably portal safety regulations.
Darian slept in his father’s arms the entire ride home.
We were all quiet during the ride as well, too tired to talk or just wanting the night to be over.
The only sounds were the hum of the tires on the road, the occasional turn signal, and Darian’s soft breathing.
Every now and then Marcus would glance down at him just to make sure he was still there.
I did the same thing. Probably every thirty seconds.
Maybe every twenty. Not because I thought he’d disappear.
Logically, I knew he wouldn’t. But after today, logic had taken a severe beating.
My son had aged ten years, been kidnapped by a dying mad scientist wereape, rescued through a portal, and slept through most of it. At this point, waking up to discover he could breathe underwater wouldn’t have even cracked the top five weirdest things this week.
I hadn’t even noticed we were home until the SUV pulled up into our driveway, and Iris turned around in her seat in the front and said, “Home sweet home.” Her voice pulled me out of the exhausted fog I’d been floating in.
One minute I was staring at the darkness beyond the window, replaying every horrible moment of the day.
The next, I was looking at our cottage. Somehow familiar things had never looked so good.
The porch light, the flower beds, even the mailbox suddenly seemed beautiful.
“Thanks, Max,” I told our driver as I had my hand on my door handle and was already pushing it open. At this point, if someone offered me a medal for surviving the day, I’d probably be too tired to lift it.
“No problem,” I heard Max say.
I went around and opened the car door for Marcus with a snoring Darian. My son shifted slightly in Marcus’s arms but never woke up. I was starting to suspect he could sleep through an earthquake, a dragon attack, and a marching band all at the same time.
Iris and Ronin both climbed out of the SUVs.
Her dark hair was a mess, purple powder still decorated on one sleeve, and I was pretty sure she’d stolen half of Addison’s laboratory.
Which, if I was being fair, was exactly what I would expect Iris to do.
Somewhere in that bag was probably enough evidence to fill three investigations and accidentally summon a lesser demon.
Ronin exchanged a quick, manly handshake with his buddy, murmured a quiet thanks, then headed over to the black BMW sedan he'd parked in front of the cottage hours earlier.
Iris slipped into the passenger seat while Ronin slipped behind the wheel.
Once she was settled inside, she rolled down the window and gave me a wave as the BMW backed up, turned around, and disappeared back down the road.
I caught a glimpse of my aunts all watching us, tired smiles on their faces. “Thanks for your help,” I told them. And I meant it. Today could have gone very differently. Horribly differently.
Dolores lifted her chin. “I’m just glad it’s over.” She looked exhausted too, though she’d probably deny it under magical oath. Her hair was still slightly purple from Ruth’s magical fingerprint powder, which I couldn’t remember its name. I wisely chose not to mention it.
“Move,” said Beverly pushing past her taller sister. “I’ve got to make myself more beautiful for my date.” She paused. “I’ve already lost valuable preparation time. Romance requires dedication.” She looked down at her blouse. “And a better pushup bra.”
Ruth waved at me. “I’ll have some pancakes ready tomorrow for breakfast. So you don’t have to do a thing. Just come over.” Her smile was warm and comforting and somehow made me feel ten years younger. Or maybe ten years older. Hard to tell after a day involving magical aging experiments.
I nodded. “Thanks, Ruth. You spoil us.” She really did. Not sure what I’d do without my aunt Ruthy.
“Yes, she does,” said Dolores marching toward Davenport House. Her tone suggested this was a long-standing complaint. Probably because it was.
Ruth rolled her eyes and then whispered, “I’ll make my pumpkin cookies for you too.
” She winked, spun around, and ran up the front porch, nearly knocking over Dolores.
Somehow, she still had enough energy to sprint.
I was beginning to suspect Ruth had spent so many years breathing potion fumes that they now counted as oxygen.
“Slow down or you’ll break a hip!” hollered Dolores.
“I’ve got a potion for that!” Ruth called after her.
I watched them disappear toward Davenport House, still arguing, still bickering, still completely themselves despite everything that had happened today.
The sound followed them all the way inside.
Oddly enough, it made me smile. Because after a day filled with kidnappings, portals, mad scientists, and enough emotional trauma to last a month, hearing my aunts argue about absolutely nothing felt wonderfully normal.
Marcus and I continued down the path to the cottage, the cool night air brushing against our skin as light rain drifted lazily from the overcast sky.
Darian slept with his head resting against Marcus’s shoulder, completely out cold. One arm hung loosely around his father’s neck while his legs dangled awkwardly from Marcus’s grip. The poor kid looked exhausted.
“Home sweet home,” I murmured as our little cottage came into view.
Inside, everything was exactly as we’d left it. Blankets draped over the couch. A stack of Marcus’s books beside his favorite chair. The faint scent of lavender and coffee lingering in the air.
The first thing we did was get Darian tucked into his bed. He was still asleep, sprawled across the mattress. I kissed his forehead, lingering for a second longer than usual, while Marcus adjusted the blanket around him with the kind of gentleness that always made my heart ache in the best way.
Once he was settled, we tiptoed out, heading quietly down the stairs to the kitchen.
I collapsed into a chair, letting out a sigh that sounded like it had been waiting to escape for a century. “Well, I’m glad this night is over.”
Marcus leaned against the counter, his mouth curved into a crooked smile. “You found a secret laboratory, rescued our son, exposed a mad scientist, and opened a portal. The only thing you’re doing for the rest of the night is drinking wine and letting me take care of everything else.”
My brows lifted. “Only one glass?”
“You need to relax. You’re running on adrenaline, rage, and whatever new portal thing you’ve got going on.”
“I have every right to be running on rage,” I said, stretching my arms overhead like some uncoordinated goddess of sleep deprivation. “That lunatic stole our son, aged him ten years, and turned him into a science project.”
Marcus’s expression darkened. “I know.”
I stared toward the stairs. Toward Darian’s room. “I still can’t believe she did that.” I shook my head. “Every time I look at him, part of my brain expects to see my little four-year-old. Then I remember.” My chest tightened all over again. “And I hate her for it.”
“She’s gone,” said Marcus quietly.
“Yeah.” I rubbed my face. “I know. And I know she’s not getting near him ever again. But I still have questions.”
Marcus nodded slowly.
Because so did he.
“What exactly did she activate in him?” I continued. “Was she right about his blood? About his biology? About all that hybrid nonsense she was talking about?”