Chapter 15 Cinder
CINDER
Discord and I held each other for the rest of our hour of respite.
He lay on his back, his strong, protective arms wrapped around me like a bulletproof vest, and I snuggled into his side, my head on his shoulder, my leg draped across his.
I did my best to commit the feeling to memory: his skin soft and warm against mine, hard sinew beneath.
I laid my hand on his chest and closed my eyes, focusing on the slow rise and fall and the rhythm of his heartbeats. For a fleeting moment, all felt right in the world, and I wanted nothing more than to freeze time and stay right there forever.
But my dad was still trapped in Hell, the veil was still unraveling, and on top of all that—as if it wasn’t enough of a clusterfudge—the tourists had begun to descend on Salem. Inside our house, it was peaceful, quiet. But it was a false peace. One I had no choice but to break.
I inhaled deeply and lifted my head. “I suppose we should go save the world now.”
“Hmm…” His chest vibrated with the sound, and he tightened his arms around me. “I grow weary of such responsibilities.”
“You and me both.” I laughed and wiggled out of his embrace, immediately missing his touch as I stood. “But we broke the veil, so we have to fix it.”
He rolled to his side, propping his head on his hand. “Technically—”
“Nope.” I wagged a finger at him. “No demonsplaining. It’s our responsibility to mend it. Period. Now, get dressed.”
“Anything for you, my love.” He crawled out of bed and did as I asked, covering his scrumptious body with borrowed clothes.
I dressed too, donning my own fireproof pants and shirt, and man, did it feel good to be fully out of Hell. To wear clothes that actually fit…that didn’t smell like rotten eggs.
We headed to the living room, where Shade and Patrice snored softly on their respective sofas. Miles sat in a chair, his gaze watchful, mostly on Shade.
“I’m sorry about Ginger. I know you two were close.” I patted his shoulder on my way to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” he said, his gaze never straying from his sleeping friend.
Discord followed me, stopping in the center of the kitchen and turning a circle. “Their bodies will require sustenance.”
“Coffee first.” I filled the machine with grounds and poured in the water. “Check the fridge and see what we have.”
He opened the door and peered inside. “You have things in packages, but nothing fresh.”
“We’ve been busy.” Miles joined us in the kitchen. “I’ll make sandwiches.” He busied himself with the bread and deli meat, and footsteps emanated from the hallway.
Ash emerged, her hair brushed, the color back in her cheeks, with Chaos a few steps behind her. I hurried through the living room, reaching her in four long strides, and threw my arms around her.
“I’m so sorry.” A sob bubbled from my chest. “I should’ve done something sooner. I should have helped you.”
She hugged me in return, squeezing me so hard my back popped. “There was nothing else you could have done.”
I pulled back and clutched her face in my hands. “I could have told you what was happening. You and Ember.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “That’s true. It would’ve made this whole ordeal a tiny bit easier.”
“It couldn’t have happened any other way.” Mayhem strode into the living room with Ember by his side.
“I promise.” I grasped both my sisters’ hands. “No more acting alone. We’re better together.”
“My girls.” Mom padded toward us and pulled us all into a group hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
Another sob rolled up from my chest, but I squelched it. Hopefully, there’d be time for our tearful reunion later. Right now, we needed to caffeinate, eat, and kick some ass. Preferably in that order.
Shade snorted and shot upright, his gaze locking on the empty chair. An expression of alarm flashed across his features before he looked into the kitchen, where Miles was putting the finishing touches on our lunch. Or was it breakfast? I couldn’t remember the last time I ate.
“Soup’s on,” Miles said, and my stomach growled on cue.
Patrice sat up, her uncertain gaze flicking between us, and I sighed. Dealing with her would have to be a tomorrow problem too.
If we made it that far.
“What’s the plan?” Miles lined up the sandwiches on the counter and took his plate to the table. “Did Hecate give you any instructions on how to mend the veil?”
“I know what to do.” I grabbed a ham and cheese and sat next to him. “I helped Mom hold it together for a minute in the Underworld.”
Everyone gathered around the table, and I bit into the most delicious meal I had ever tasted. Whole grain bread, ham, cheddar, and mayonnaise melded on my tongue, making my mouth water. No tears of the tormented. No skunk cabbage with essence of shame.
Just plain, earthly, mundane food.
I chugged a glass of water like I hadn’t had a drink in weeks and headed to the sink for a refill.
“There’s filtered water in the fridge,” Ash said as she carried her paper plate to the trash. “That’ll taste like chlorine.”
I laughed. “After all the sulfur water I choked down in Hell, I’d drink straight from a swimming pool here.”
“Shit.” Ember typed on her phone before looking at me. “Two of ours took out an ogre as soon as the sun came up.”
“We better get a move on.” Ash picked up the others’ empty plates and tossed them in the trash.
“I’ll come with you,” Patrice said, rising to her feet. “I want to help.”
Ember crossed her arms. “Or we could lock you in Ash’s closet until the Higher Power can give you a proper trial.”
I shook my head. “No one is locking anyone anywhere. We need all the help we can get.”
“I agree,” Discord said. “Mending the veil will be the most taxing feat we have ever attempted. You may require healing immediately when it’s done.”
He leveled a steely gaze on Patrice and clenched his hands into fists. “But if you give the slightest hint of deception, I will not hesitate to tear off your head.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Understood.”
“We need weapons.” Ember pushed away from the table, her gaze drifting to the hallway closet where she kept an arsenal that would make a Navy SEAL blush.
“And supplies,” Ash said. “With the veil this thin, we’ll need salt, iron, and every binding herb we have left.”
“I’ll pack a bag.” Miles jumped up, grabbing a canvas tote from the hook by the door. “Sage, rosemary, obsidian flakes. I’ve got some pre-mixed healing salves, too.”
“Patrice, you’re with him,” I said. “Pack whatever medical supplies you have left. We might need them.”
She nodded, her face pale but determined, and followed Miles to the cabinet.
“Mom, you’re staying here,” I said.
She opened her mouth to argue, her spine stiffening in that Holland way that meant try me, but I cut her off.
“Don’t. You poured every ounce of your vim into holding the veil together. If you come with us, you’ll be a liability, and I can’t be worrying about you while I’m trying to keep the world from tearing open.”
Dad’s words from the cave echoed in my mind—no man allows a Holland woman anything—but I wasn’t a man. I was her daughter, and I wasn’t asking.
Mom’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. “Fine. But I’m going into town. If anything gets past you, it won’t get past me.”
“Deal.” I kissed her cheek and turned to Discord. “Are you ready to end this?”
“I am ready to mend the veil.” His words felt heavy, laced with a meaning I understood perfectly. Mend the veil? Absolutely. Save the realms? You betcha. The end that came with our success? None of us would ever be ready for that, especially me.
Pain flashed through my chest, the idea of losing him nearly crumpling me, but I locked the thought deep in the recesses of my mind, labeling it a tomorrow problem too.
We moved as a unit, a chaotic, dysfunctional, powerful family unit.
Ember strapped daggers to her thighs and tucked a pouch of salt into her belt.
Ash grabbed a heavy iron poker from the fireplace—primitive, but effective—and Chaos hovered over her, his eyes scanning the windows as if expecting an attack at any second.
“The van is in the drive,” Mayhem said, dangling the keys.
“We can’t drive.” I walked to the front window and pulled back the curtain. “Look.”
The street outside was a sea of black and orange. Tourists. Thousands of them. Halloween in Salem gridlocked the city. People in costumes swarmed the sidewalks and spilled into the streets, laughter and drunken shouts filtering through the glass.
“If we take the van, we’ll be stuck in traffic for hours.” I let the curtain fall. “We have to walk.”
“She’s right.” Ash slipped her spell satchel onto her shoulder. “Driving on Halloween is a nightmare all its own.”
“Let’s move,” Ember said. “Keep your heads down and your magic holstered unless absolutely necessary. We blend in until we can’t. Then, we’re just part of the show.”
We stepped onto the porch, and the noise hit us like a physical wave. The air smelled of funnel cake, autumn leaves, and the distinct tang of raw magic bleeding through the veil.
Discord gripped my hand, his palm warm and calloused against mine. His gaze darted around the crowd, taking in the witches with pointed hats, the vampires with plastic fangs, and the werewolves with fake fur.
“They mock us.” He eyed a woman dressed as a sexy devil in red latex.
“They celebrate us,” I corrected, pulling him down the steps. “Don’t take it personally.”
We pushed into the crowd, moving single file.
Ember took point, her petite frame cutting through the throng with terrifying efficiency.
Mayhem followed her, acting as a battering ram for anyone who didn’t move fast enough.
I was in the middle with Discord, followed by Patrice, Miles, and Shade, with Ash and Chaos bringing up the rear.
Music blared from speakers set up on street corners. Performers juggled fire—amateur hour compared to what my family could do—and vendors hawked glow sticks and overpriced cider. To call it sensory overload would be an understatement.