Chapter thirty-eight
Istare out into the bloody raindrops, and I have no idea why it comes to mind, but I whisper, “The crab didn’t bleed.”
“They’re magical creatures. They have no blood,” Micah replies, but he says nothing of the downpour stained in what I can only call death. Why isn’t he mentioning it?
Why aren’t I?
“Let’s go find out what news my team has brought from their travels,” Micah says, opening the door for me.
I hesitate, trapped in my silence for no good reason, and while I willingly move Micah’s direction, once I’m there, I can’t help but glance back at the storm one more time.
And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the blood is gone, washed away in the glassy clear droplets of heavy falling rain.
There’s a twist of fear in my belly. Did I imagine it?
Is the serpent growing stronger inside me?
Is it taunting me? Does Micah know that might happen, and that’s why he keeps slamming a wall between us?
The idea has me quaking inside.
When I face forward again, I don’t look at Micah, but I can feel his eyes heavy on my face.
I don’t ask about the blood that drenched the mighty storm only minutes before, for fear it offers him confirmation that I’m beyond saving.
But deep inside me, resolve forms, thick as steel and as wide as this world and the next.
I’m going to kill the serpent. I’m going to kill Jeremy.
If they play games of fuckery with me, they will not find the same girl who refused to kill a tiger in the forest as their opponent.
They will find death.
Resolve formed, I enter the castle, and once I’ve crossed the threshold, I can almost feel the house welcome me, a current of magic softly caressing along my nerve endings.
My gaze lifts to the kitchen island where not one, but four people—three men and a woman—gather around, and almost as if they sense my presence, the chatter goes silent and they turn to stare at me.
They know I’m the Aza.
Which I knew, of course, but they’re looking at me as if I’m a creature from another world, and I guess maybe I am.
More a monster, and I do not like it, my nerves fluttering about my belly with a drum beating in my chest. Micah joins me, this time to my left.
“They’re on our side, Ember. They’re just stunned that the miracle we’ve heard about all our lives is finally a living, breathing Nephilim.
They’ll get over it.” His hand settles on my back, and his magic hums through me in a way it has not in the past, and I wonder why it’s so active. “You okay?” he asks.
I glance up at him, searching his handsome face. “Are you?”
“This is one moment in time I can say I’m fucking terrific.
I’m in this house with you and my most trusted friends.
Let’s go meet everyone.” He shocks me by catching my hand in his and leading me across the room toward the island, as if making a statement.
I’m under his protection. Back off, if you know what is good for you.
I’m stunned by his action and on edge over him feeling the need.
The group parts and creates a spot for us at the island with our backs to the door, which would normally bother me.
I’ve always had this weird instinct to watch my back, which now means far more to me than a silly paranoia.
I always knew I was different. But I don’t insist on repositioning myself now, not in the house where I feel protected.
I’m not sure if that is all the house, either.
Beyond reason, I know Micah is my protector.
At least, for now, I think with a twist in my gut.
We step to the island, and Silas is across from me, his eyes bubbling with mischief, not fire. “Hiya, Ember. I told them all you’re cool. You won’t kill us with a look or any shit like that.”
“Are you sure about that?” I dare, intentionally jabbing at Silas, but only in jest. I actually like him. He’s got that big brother vibe, and I always wanted a big brother. Though I doubt he wanted a sister who could destroy the world.
“Silas,” Micah snaps.
“I’m just keeping it real,” Silas says, but holds his hands up. “Sorry, boss.” He gives me a narrowed-eyed look. “Sorry, Ember. Are you thinking of killing me?”
“Very brutally,” I assure him. “I did just kill a crab on the beach. Well, I mean, Micah helped, but I let him.”
Micah laughs low and deep and drapes an arm around me, the act creating butterflies in my belly. He’s really not leaving any question to our personal involvement, but then I’m sure Silas has let them all know he found us tongue dancing by the lighthouse.
“Ignore him,” the woman to Silas’ left says.
She’s pretty and petite, but her energy reads like a badass.
I guess her to be around thirty-two human years at most, though she’s likely far, far older.
Her hair is a silky, sun-kissed brown. Her skin as ivory as a new day’s snow.
“That’s what we do if we aren’t kicking his ass to shut him up.
I’m Gabriella, Ember. I’m obviously not a Crystal Seer, but I am a Seer. I’m glad we found you.”
“Are you?” I ask before I can stop myself, but the truth is, I need to know where Micah’s people stand, and they need to know where I stand. The answer is not willing to die without a fight.
“Of course, I am.” Her voice and her expression hold nothing but sincerity.
“You are important to the future of our world. But I’m sure this is all disconcerting to you after being uprooted from what you knew as your life.
It happens to many of our kind every so many years as we age out of our lives, but at least we know it’s coming. We know what is real.”
“We’re all relieved you’re with us,” a man to my left, at the end of the island, states.
In other words, he’s glad I’m not with Jeremy.
Here they can guard me, imprison me, kill me.
Micah must sense what I’m thinking and feeling, as his fingers flex on my arm, and I swear his magic splays warmth over me, as if he’s telling me that’s not what this is, that’s not what any of them want to happen.
But want and need are two different things. I’ve seen need drive crime and desperation in far less situations.
“I’m Zeke,” the man says. “Nice to meet you.” He has raven hair so dark it glints blue, his eyes a rich, chocolate brown. He’s tall, his T-shirt hugging a muscular build. “I’m Micah’s right-hand, his most trusted.”
“Because he sure as fuck can’t trust the rest of us,” Silas says smartly, folding his arms in front of his chest and glaring at Zeke.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Silas,” Zeke mutters. “It’s not always about you.”
The two of them begin snapping at each other, and Gabriella sighs. “Welcome to Elysium, Ember. Where the deer and antelope do not roam and children never grow up.”
Micah leans in close and lowers his voice for my ears only. “They’re just as nuts on the battlefield.”
“Is that good?” I ask, glancing over at him, our breaths mingling, our heads dipped so low and close.
“Watch and see. They’re as loyal to each other and me as they are brutal.”
One of the men who disappeared into the kitchen right as we joined the group reappears with a plate of burgers in his hand. He’s clean-shaven, with a buzz cut and sharp cheekbones. And his eyes—I always notice the eyes now—are green.
“I’m Braylon, the disciplined one who cooks better than they complain. I hope you like burgers. I consider my burgers the best in the two worlds.”
“Hi, Braylon,” I say, liking him instantly for no explainable reason. “I love a good burger. Especially the best in two worlds.”
“If only he could wield his sword with the skill he wields a cooking utensil,” Silas says with a snort, taking a sip of a brown beverage in a clear mug.
Braylon shoves his shoulder. “Fuck you, Silas. No burger for you.” He glances around the table. “Come eat, everyone, except Silas. The food is on the table and ready.”
Silas pushes off the island and follows Braylon to the table. Zeke groans and says, “I better get between them.” He heads their direction, and the three of them gather at the table, voices lifting.
“And this is why they need me,” Gabriella murmurs, eyeing Micah. “I’ll get them settled down, boss.” She slides off her barstool, and then we’re alone at the island, just me and Micah.
I shift toward him and ask, “Why does Braylon cook when he can just wish the food into place? Is it about fitting in with humans?”
“Not really,” Micah says, his elbow on the island. “Think how boring life would be if you did nothing for enjoyment.” He lowers his voice. “Why not just wish yourself an orgasm? You wouldn’t need me then.”
My eyes go wide, and I laugh nervously, my cheeks heating. “Did you really just say that?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I did. And don’t get any ideas. It’ll be better with me, I promise.” He catches my hand. “Let’s go eat.”
When he would pull me with him, I tug him back. “Shouldn’t we ask what they found out?”
His smile fades, shadows falling across the hard lines of his face. “Silas already gave me a negative shake of his head, his silent message clear. They came back with nothing more than him.”
Disappointment knifes through me. “In other words, the serpent waits eagerly on my return to the human realm. He’ll kill Sara, Micah, and then what will that make me?”
His brows lift. “Sara?”
“I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid named Sara. She was my wolf. I don’t want her to die, or maybe I shouldn’t want her to live and turn into a rabid demon with me.”
“I told you—”
“Believe. Be strong. I know all of this. That doesn’t erase moments like this one, not for me. Maybe I’m still too human to just stand on the mountain and scream a victory I have not earned.”
He surprises me then, reaching up and stroking my hair behind my ear, a shiver rushing through me with the tenderness of his touch. “That human side of you is a strength, not a weakness. We’ll find the answers we need,” he promises. “Right now, I just want you to see that you’re not alone.”
Unbidden, the words stir memories of the absolute betrayal of two people playing the role of my parents while serving a demon.
I haven’t thought of them. I don’t want to think of them.
And I’m not sure what I’d do if I saw them now.
But considering who and what they are, it would not go well for them.
Micah leans on the island next to me, his shoulder pressing to my shoulder, and there’s a pinch in my chest at his attentiveness. “What just happened?” he asks softly, ensuring his voice remains only between us.
I’m aware of the others at the table. I can feel a few wandering eyes, and we rotate to face each other again. “Trust is, in fact, more important than what I left behind.”
His knuckles caress my cheek, tenderness in his touch. “That’s right, but too many open doors make the past hard to leave behind. We’ll close a few. Soon. I promise.”
“Once we kill Jeremy,” I say. “That’s what matters right now.”
“Agreed. Are you hungry?”
“I am. Yes. Of course, I am. What can I say around your people?”
“Our people, and anything. You can trust them. Give them a chance to prove that.” He catches my hand again, pulls me around, and guides me to the table. I can trust them, but they can’t trust me until I’ve rid myself of the serpent. Everything about that very premise is a deadly contradiction.