Chapter 19
“It was nice seeing you,” I rush out, taking Gilbert’s hand again.
“Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?” Gemma asks, taking a step forward.
“Uh,” I hesitate, and Thomas gently nudges me.
“You should go. Have fun,” he says.
“Yeah.” I force a smile. “I’m still on for it.”
“Great!” Gemma says. “And if you guys want to come, I have no problem with it whatsoever. As long as you don’t mind me being the third wheel. Fourth wheel, I think? I mean, if you guys are all…sorry. I’m getting too nosey again.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “And yes, we are.”
She sweeps her eyes over the twins and then leans in close to me, smiling. “You are lucky. Here I am trying to get one guy who’s not a total loser, and your ‘boyfriend’ isn’t even a guy. It’s two.”
I laugh, not sure at all how to proceed. Gemma seems like a progressive person, and society is more accepting of people living out of the norm, but coming across relationships like this still throws people for a loop.
Just wait until she finds out I have two more boyfriends.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, giving Gil a gentle tug.
The bad feeling in the pit of my stomach starts to form, making my fight-or-flight response kick in.
There’s nothing around me to fight, and while I hate running away from anything that frightens me, I know enough to listen to that voice in the back of my head.
“Are you okay, Ace?” Thomas asks after we’ve put some distance between us and Gemma. “You’re tense again.”
“I feel better now. Did you get a weird feeling around her?”
“No.” Gil turns around, looking at the little group one more time before we cross a street and head out of sight. “Did you?”
“Yeah. They were staring at you.”
“Well, we are rather handsome. Me more than my brother,” Thomas says with a smirk.
“You guys are mirror images of each other,” I retort, hardly able to keep the smile off my face. Something weird is going on, but they’re still able to put me at ease and make me laugh.
“That hurts, Ace,” Gil says. “I thought we were close enough now for you to see the small differences between us. And realize that I’m the better-looking one.” He leans in, lips against my ear. “With a bigger cock.”
It would be so easy to laugh and squirm against him, to tell him I need to feel his cock inside me to make that call, and have them compete in bed for who can satisfy me the best. But that damn voice won’t shut the fuck up.
“I’m sure they were thinking about how they’d love to strip you down and get dirty, but there was something else. It’s like they know who you are.”
“You mean what we are.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah. Gemma is into New Age shit and says she’s communicated with spirits. I know a lot of those people who practice Wicca don’t actually have powers, but do you think any of them do?”
“I’m sure of it,” Gil says. “Your powers are probably above and beyond, but we’ve encountered a few witches in our day who were able to bend energy in their favor.”
“Shit,” I mumble, and pull my car keys from my purse.
“Ace.” Thomas stops me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him.
“Relax. Maybe they could sense some magic, but come on, do you really think they jumped to the conclusion that your two incredibly sexy boyfriends are really thousand-year-old Templar Knights who were cursed for the death of a Pagan’s daughter who put love spells on a young, impressionable priest? ”
“Yes. That’s exactly what they’re thinking.”
Thomas laughs. “You’re impossible sometimes, Ace, and I love that about you.” Before I can protest, he cups my face and kisses me hard and deep. “Feel better?” he asks when he pulls away.
“Yes, thank you.”
“You can thank me again later.” He winks and takes my hand. “Let’s go home.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask Jacques as soon as I step into the house. I take off my shoes and set the bag of takeout we picked up on the way home on the living room coffee table. He sets his book down and gets up, eyes glimmering when he sees me.
“Much better, thanks to you.” He strides over, grabs me tight around the waist, and plants a big kiss on my lips.
“This is nice,” I breathe, hooking my arms around his neck. I arch my back, pressing my hips into his.
“Hasan told me about the spell.”
“Right! I almost forgot,” I say with a smile, bringing my mouth to his once more. “You’re a little distracting.”
He runs his hands down my arms, stepping back and looking through the house for Thomas and Gilbert, who are just walking through the door.
“Incredible,” Jacques says out loud to himself. He gives my hands a squeeze before letting go so he can look Thomas and Gilbert over. I sit on the couch, heart feeling full as I watch the guys talk.
Hasan comes into the house a moment later, dark eyes shining as he tries not to smile.
“You’re not the only one with surprises,” he says, and flicks his gaze to Jacques, who gives him a tiny nod. Hasan strides forward, holding out his hand.
“What is that?” I ask, leaning forward. Hasan sits next to me, and the couch groans under his weight. I slide closer and pick up an oval-shaped stone. It’s black and smooth and has something engraved on one side.
I recognize the engravings right away as runes, but don’t get the significance. I turn the stone over in my hand, and it has that same static feeling the herbs did when I invoked them to cast the glamour spell.
“Where did you get these?” I ask, taking another stone from Hasan’s paw of a hand.
“The roof.”
I lift an eyebrow. “The roof? I don’t—no way. No fucking way.”
Hasan laughs and nods. “Yes.”
Thomas and Gilbert come over, looking at the runes with confusion. I line them up, shaking my head in disbelief.
“How?” I ask, stunned.
“I had a theory,” Jacques starts, coming back over. He puts his hand on his chest, wincing slightly as he moves, and sits down in an armchair across from me. “You brought up a point that made me curious, and after a little investigating, we found them.”
“Investigating?” I question.
“I smashed things and he looked,” Hasan explains.
“What’s going on?” Thomas asks, poking at the runes.
“The stones are what forces you outside every morning,” I say. “So I think that means if I move them to the library, that’s where you’ll go. Right?”
“We think the same,” Hasan says. “And we’ll find out in a few hours.” He reaches into the bag of Chinese takeout. “Are you tired, Ace?”
“A little. I’m off this weekend, so it’s okay. I can stay up until sunrise and make sure you guys are okay.”
“Or you could rest until then and we can wake you up,” Jacques suggests.
“I like that idea.” I push up off the couch and go over to him, pressing my hand to his forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever anymore.”
“That medicine worked,” Jacques says, shaking his head in disbelief. He has a hard time believing in modern medical advancements, just like I had a hard time believing in magic. It’s funny how rooted our beliefs are. It’s a bit eye-opening, really, to experience it firsthand.
I never believed in magic, and it’s still hard for me to wrap my head around. A tiny pill that can cure illness and rid you of fevers would have been considered magic back in Jacques’s day, and he was rightly skeptical.
“You’re supposed to take the antibiotics once a day for a week,” I remind him, carefully pulling the gauze back to look at the wound. “I don’t want you to become septic or anything.”
“What is septic?” Hasan asks.
“Basically blood poisoning. The infection spreads through you, and even with the advancements we have today, it can be life-threatening.”
“I’ll be fine in the morning,” Jacques presses, and he might very well be. I have no idea what’ll happen to the medication in his system when he turns to stone. Still, I’d rather not take any chances. I love Jac with my whole heart and having him wake up sick and weak isn’t happening on my watch.
“Let me clean this,” I say, pulling the rest of the gauze off Jac’s chest. I half expect him to protest, but he nods and gets up, following me into the kitchen. I get the first aid supplies from the bathroom down the hall, and motion to the table. He pulls out a chair and sits.
“I don’t want you to worry,” he says, watching me tear open an alcohol swab. I clean the wound from the center out, and then cover it with antibiotic cream.
“I care, so that’s not possible.” I open up another bandage and press it to his chest. “I do think you’ll be fine. Healing while you sleep is incredible. Maybe I can work it so that aspect of the curse stays with you.”
Jacques doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile. He waits until I finish tending to his wound to take my hand and pull me into his lap. Straddling him, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tip my head down to his, looking him right in the eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says, and runs his hands up my back.
“Bullshit. I can tell.”
He presses his lips together and looks away, then brings his gaze up to my breasts, admiring them for a second before inhaling. “Hasan and I are in agreement about this,” he starts, and slides one hand under my shirt, needing to feel my bare skin on his palm.
“About what?”
“You are in danger, Ace.” A line forms between his eyes, and his jaw tenses. “There is someone or something out there who has gone through great lengths to hurt you. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“I know you will.” I bring my arms up and run my hands through Jacques’s hair. “What are you getting at?”
“We’re strong as gargoyles. Able to heal from lethal wounds.” He closes his eyes in a long blink. “Even though we can’t be with you during the day, we both feel we’re better able to offer protection in the form we are.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to break the curse?”
“Not yet. Hasan is a great warrior, and even he would have struggled against the ghouls as a human. We don’t have magic. Once the curse is removed, our powers will go along with it.”
“You’d rather stay like this than be human again?”