Chapter 28 Ian
IAN
The man delivering Everett's dogs swears about the cold as he gets out of the big van.
He wraps his coat tighter around him as he approaches the place I stand, where the snow turns into sand before reaching the ocean.
I'm watching the sunrise paint this beach in Maine with pinks and vibrant yellows.
Nearby is the Gateway I've heard so much about. It's weird that the entrance to the Nether I heard so many terrible things about is in a place this peaceful, now that the Divide is gone.
But as impressive as these views are, all I can think about is Heidi.
Her lips against mine. How fucking soft and warm she was, pressed against me and driving me fucking insane.
Godsdamn, experiencing her emotions through touching her might be my new favorite thing. I'm getting a semi just thinking about her affection and arousal coursing over my skin, burrowing into my chest to warm my stilled heart.
I fucking loathe that I had to leave her side, but it was for the best. I needed a few hours to get myself under better control, and running all night to get to Maine cleared my head.
I even picked up some extra pieces of mytherun on the way, so we don’t have to worry about being short when Heidi wakes up later.
And I fed, of course. Over and over.
My throat is still fucking killing me, though.
My fangs ache. I'm desperately trying to ignore the ravenous, dark thoughts my thrall brain is spinning about Heidi.
Imagining what would have happened if I'd just given in and bitten her neck.
The way she would have moaned, feeling nothing but pleasure as I sealed my fate in hell, finally feeding on the woman I've been so fucking obsessed with that it hurts.
"E—excuse me? Are you Killian Murley?" the delivery man asks, the crunching of snow beneath his boots stopping once he gets to me.
"That's me." It's one of the several alter egos I use.
"Oh, thank gods. My employer gave me these coordinates, b—but…" His gaze flicks briefly to where the Gateway stands, and he visibly pales. "Sir, are you sure you want the dogs delivered here? Ain't nothing around here except that, and that's the Gateway to the Nether."
I push all thoughts of Heidi out of my head and look him in the eye, my temples tingling. "Hold still and stay quiet. This won't hurt you."
The man freezes, making no sound as my fangs sink into his neck. Delirious hunger rushes through me at the first taste of blood. But even though my instincts are screaming for more, there's barely anything satisfying about this.
Oddly enough, I think Zak's blood curbed my hellish craving better than this human's.
It takes a couple of tries to stop, but I finally release the dazed man, swallowing as I try to keep a level head. I got used to ignoring the underlying urge to prey and kill that came with being a vampire, but it's heightened as a thrall.
Still, I'm doing better than the first few hours of my freedom. I only killed one person last night on my way to Maine, and that asshole deserved it.
I wipe any trace of red away on the back of my black sweater's sleeve. "Got a first aid kit in that van?"
"Yeah," he slurs.
"Good. You won't remember what just happened. Bandage your neck, drink lots of water, and take a nap before you drive again. Go ahead and release the dogs now."
He moves quickly, walking back to unlatch the van's rear door. A few seconds later, two massive white Great Pyrenees come bounding through the snow toward me, nearly knocking me over in their excitement.
I lean to pet them. "Nice to see you too, polar bears."
To my relief, Everett's dogs really do look perfectly healthy despite the last fourteen months. It's a damn lucky thing I'd already dropped them off to be watched over by a hardcore doomsday planner contact of mine on my way to get to Heidi, before that vampyr got to me.
Not bothering to say goodbye to the man who's already climbing back into his van with a yawn, I walk with the well-behaved dogs until we reach the new entry into the Nether.
The Gateway is hard to miss—just one freestanding, gargantuan doorway made of otherworldly mist with glowing rocks of some kind arching around it.
From everything I've read online on the phone I swiped yesterday, they say that the Nether is healing. The new Gateway doesn't have surges of escaped shadow fiends like the Divide used to. It's monitored by the Amato quintet, who can sense anyone trying to enter or leave with malicious intent.
"Let's hope you polar bears don't count as malicious intent," I mutter before walking through the mist.
My instincts go haywire for a second when I first step into the Nether, like my body is warning me that I'm in danger. But despite how tense I am as I look around, I decide the rumors are right.
I used to hear the Nether was a sick, hellish plane of existence filled with ash and death, but clearly, it's healing.
Spotting an impressive, big house nearby, I head toward it, appreciating the more temperate spring weather here than the frigid coast I just left.
Fresh green shoots are starting to poke through the soil of this meadow I'm passing through, with a few tiny flowers adding hints of muted color. The air here smells clean.
Even though it's clearly springtime here, too, I spot several ravens perched in a tree I pass on the way to Everett's house. They tip their heads at me, squawking. Something about the way they watch me feels fucking weird, like they're intentionally making note of me.
The Great Pyrenees trot along with me, stopping to sniff things now and then.
Not for the first time, I'm glad they're so mild-mannered and well-trained, even though they sometimes shitted on the floor and ripped apart a few of my things at my place in Hawaii, where I moved not long after faking my death.
Finally, I stop just in front of Everett's house, studying it.
It's easy to picture my friend living here.
The place is large and striking with a clean, modern-gothic style, complete with plenty of tall windows and a subtle hint of luxury in the construction.
A neatly manicured lawn stretches around it.
Off to the side and slightly behind the house, I spy a glass greenhouse and an impressive garden.
Just as I'm wondering if Everett and his quintet will even be home, an incubus steps out of Limbo directly beside me.
I startle, swearing, before realizing I know this fucker from back when my parents were hellbent on making sure I befriended some powerful legacy kids who could be valuable allies to me later at Everbound University—which of course I never had to attend.
I've also seen a bunch about this jackass online while getting caught up on things on that phone, since apparently the world is obsessed with Everett's keeper and her infamous quintet.
"Oh, DeLune. It's just you," I huff.
The half-monster bastard tucks his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, glancing down at the dogs sitting with wagging tails beside me before he squints at me.
I'm pretty sure if I'd tipped off the Gateway, DeLune would have killed me by now. Since I'm not obviously threatening, he's just curious.
"I could swear I've seen you somewhere before," he muses.
"You have. Lots of times."
"That so?"
"Yep. Usually, when you were forced to hang out at Everett's place when we were kids. I lived next door to him, remember? He and I were best friends?" I prompt, because how the hell does this guy remember none of this?
"Someone had to take pity on him, I suppose." He absentmindedly pets each of the dogs.
I sigh. "I'm the one who told you where Alaric Frost stashed his expensive liquor once. Didn't realize you'd steal all of it. Also, I helped Evie organize getting supplies to the Nether humans when they escaped the Divide."
Crypt DeLune clearly gives up on trying to recognize me and just vanishes, dropping right back into Limbo without another word. Rolling my eyes at how unhelpful he is, I turn to knock on the door, but it's already swinging open.
When Everett steps out, we're both shocked for a second.
I gawk at the long scar carved down the left side of his face, turning his once-flawless Frost appearance harsh and unsettling. "Gods. What happened to you?"
"To me?" he splutters. "What the fuck happened to you? Where have you been for the last fourteen months? Godsdamn it, Ian, I thought you were dead. Where the hell—"
One of the dogs barks happily at the sight of her owner, and Everett blinks down at them.
"Fucking gods," he swears on a harsh exhale before crouching immediately to pull both of the polar-bear-sized dogs into hugs, scratching behind their ears and letting them lick his face.
With him crouching like this, the collar of his button-up white shirt moves just enough that I see a few intense hickeys scattered on the pale skin of his neck and collarbone.
I stare at the elemental who’s now beaming at his dogs.
"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?
Because the Everett I know would never blaspheme, his OCD ass definitely wouldn't let these rascals slobber all over his face, and your neck? I know I’m one to talk, but does your keeper fucking bite you?
Just how badly did the Upheaval fuck you up? "
"You have no idea,” he grumbles, blushing slightly as he adjusts his shirt to cover the love bites.
Then he glances up at me with genuine gratitude written all over his scarred face, still loving on his dogs.
"Thanks for getting them back to me, Ian.
I don't know how to express how much this really means to me. "
I wave off his unnecessary gratitude. "We both know I keep my promises."
Everett straightens and shakes his head at me, still baffled, before he steps back inside, nodding his head that I should follow. "Come in and tell me everything in my office."
Able to step into their house now, I follow my best friend through an impressive entry area and up a grand set of stairs, glancing around curiously on the way to his office.
Their house is designed and decorated minimally and tastefully, but it's clear that the once-upon-a-time Frost heir spared no expense.
"Your quintet isn't here?" I guess as he opens a door and lets me into his spotless, surprisingly comfortable office space.
"Silas is handling some sensitive personal matters, but Crypt let me know when you arrived. I'm guessing he's on his way back to help Maven and Baelfire finish hunting an aggressive swarm of harpies," he says like it's just a regular Saturday.
For them, it probably is.
"It's still so fucking weird that you're in a quintet with those guys," I pull a face. "You all hated each other growing up. I'm surprised you haven't all killed each other yet."
"You and me both."
He takes a seat in a wingback chair in front of a small fireplace in here. I take the one opposite him as I watch one of his oversize dogs sit at his feet and the other one climb into his lap like it's still a fucking puppy. I know she's heavy, but Everett doesn't mind as he keeps petting her.
"Okay," he says, looking at me. "Spill."