Chapter 1
“Ace?”
I hear my name being called but don’t look up. I’m too far down the rabbit hole to stop now.
“Ace.”
It’s not a question this time, and he says it with more concern.
“Ace,” Thomas repeats, voice edging on annoyance.
“Yeah?” I don’t look up from the computer. My eyes hurt, my head throbs, I’m desperately thirsty, and I’m definitely in need of a shower.
But I can’t stop.
My parents’ murder file is in front of me, along with a dozen or so others. All with the same cause of death. Hearts were frozen from the inside out. And no, none of them were in temperatures remotely close to freezing. All but three were found indoors, with situations similar to my parents.
The scene looked like a robbery, but nothing was taken. I know better, not only because I’m a cop, but because I was there. I lived it. The robbery was a cover-up for murder. The how is there in front of me, but the why…I have no fucking idea.
“Dinner is ready.” Thomas extends his hand, waiting for me to take it.
His wings are stretched out behind him, and he rolls his neck to the side.
He and Gil were sparring outside until Gemma called them in for dinner.
Whatever she made smells wonderful, which is one of the best parts about her living here now.
She’s a damn good cook.
And she still feels bad for basically fucking me over and signing my death certificate, so she’s been in full-blown Suzy Homemaker mode, which the guys and I don’t mind one bit.
“I’ll be right there.”
“No, you won’t,” Thomas sighs. He sits next to me on the couch and closes my laptop.
I start to object and then look up, blinking from the change of not staring at my glowing screen.
“Ace, you need to take a break. You’ve been going nonstop on those files for days and you’ve found nothing. We need a different approach.”
“But there isn’t one,” I object. “I’ve tried everything.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promises, and I smile.
“You’re starting to sound like Jacques.”
Thomas wrinkles his nose. “We can’t have that, now can we?” He takes my hand and pulls me to my feet with ease. “Come on. Eat dinner and then have sex in the shower with me.”
I act like I have to consider his offer. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He gives me his cheeky grin. “No more work tonight. We all think you’ve gone a little off the deep end.”
“Good use of the phrase,” I compliment.
“I’ve been working hard on my studies,” he jokes, meaning he’s been watching a lot of TV.
Gemma introduced the guys to the wonderful world of Hallmark movies, and as much as I refused to watch anything cheesy like that in the past, I have to say they are growing on me. But I won’t admit that to anyone.
“What’s for dinner?” I ask as Gemma pulls what looks like a roast out of the oven.
“Pot roast. It’s my aunt’s recipe, minus the seething hatred for anyone different than her.”
“Maybe I’ll have a little of that on the side,” Gil quips, and Gemma shakes her head. She puts the pan on the stovetop and grabs a bottle of sweet red wine.
“Want some?” she asks me.
“She needs some.” Thomas takes the bottle from her and twists off the cap.
“Guys, I’m fine,” I start, and all three of them round on me.
“Ace,” Gemma says softly, looking concerned. “I get that you really want to solve those murders since you’re a detective and all, but, I…uh…we…” She trails off, looking at the twins for help. I cross my arms, knowing they rehearsed what they’re about to say.
“You’ve lost your shit,” Thomas says, happy with himself for getting another modern phrase right. “You’ve become obsessed, and not in a good way.”
“I’m working,” I insist, shaking my head.
“I get it, Ace,” Gemma tries. “I lost my parents too.”
“It’s not the same. Mine were murdered while I slept peacefully in the house, and somebody somewhere has been keeping track of all the murders like my parents’ for years. I need to find out who they are and what they know.”
“You’ve been trying, Ace,” Gil presses. “And we all know by now whoever sent those files wanted this reaction out of you. They wanted to unnerve you.”
“I’m not unnerved. I’m pissed the fuck off.”
“There’s not much difference at this point,” Thomas says gently. “Come on, Ace. You’re smart. And part of being smart is knowing when it’s time to find a different approach.”
“What do you suggest?” I throw my hands in the air. “I mean, if you have a brilliant break-through idea, please, let me hear it.”
The three of them look at each other. “Let it go for now,” Gemma says, looking sorry as she speaks.
“Whoever was able to get those files covered their tracks. You made sure of it. They’re right.
” She motions to the twins. “Whoever sent you the files wants to get under your skin. You’re not sleeping, you’re hardly eating—”
“And not fucking,” Thomas adds, earning a glare from me.
“My point is,” Gemma presses, “you’re off your game. Which is what we think they want. Simply put, you’re shaken.”
I can’t disagree. For the last four days, this is all I’ve been able to think about. Who sent the files. How they got them. Why they were keeping track of whatever the hell it was that killed my parents.
Was it a demon? The same demon? Or are there a bunch of them, wandering the streets like the vampires and looking human, tricking us all? And why—dammit. I guess my friends are right.
“Okay, fine. I see your point.”
“You do?” they all say in unison.
“Yeah. And I’ve been slightly preoccupied.”
“Slightly?” Gilbert mumbles under his breath, and Thomas elbows him in the ribs.
“It’s fine,” Gemma goes on, turning to get plates. “Eat dinner, then we’ll watch some TV together and go to bed.”
“After we have sex.” Thomas raises his eyebrows and Gemma rolls her eyes. “What?” He shrugs. “You sleep better after you have an orgasm.”
“Or three,” Gilbert adds.
And now I’m rolling my eyes. “Where are Jac and Hasan?”
“The roof.” Gil looks up. “I’ll get them.”
“Thanks.” I pick up the bottle of wine from the counter and pour myself a generous glass.
I’ve been so tense that the last few days have passed in a blur.
There is merit in everything the guys and Gemma said.
I don’t want it to be true, but I know it is.
Which means there is much, much more to this story and the pages will come fluttering down around me eventually.
I swallow a mouthful of wine, knowing it will hit me fast. I don’t remember the last time I ate. This morning, maybe? Gemma made me bacon and eggs and I hardly touched it, which seems like a sin now. I fucking love bacon.
I take another gulp of wine, wanting to feel a buzz so I can relax and enjoy dinner.
I top off my glass and then go about setting the table.
The front door opens and closes, and a second or two later, I feel a gush of warm, humid air rush through the house.
It’s been warm the last few days. Really warm.
“Remember when being cold was an issue?” I ask Jac as he walks into the kitchen, followed by Hasan.
His eyes meet mine and he smiles, making my heart flutter just a bit.
He’s voiced his thoughts on me being Gollum and the papers my precious, but I think he’s just as curious as I am to get to the bottom of this.
“I do,” he says. “Seems like long ago and at the same time just like yesterday.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Does a year even seem long to you?” Gemma asks, carrying the last dish to the table. “I mean, you’re like a thousand years old, right?”
“Not quite,” Jacques says, pulling out a chair to sit in. “I’ve been looking over calendars and did the math. We were cursed nine hundred and ninety-nine years ago.”
“Oh, we’ll have to have a party next year!” Gemma says, then realizes what a weird thing that is to celebrate. “Well, maybe not.”
“We’ll have an ‘I broke the curse party.’ Well, when I break it,” I say, and finish my wine. “Which I will.” I rub my forehead, headache worsening. Break the curse. Learn magic. Find out what killed my parents. Track down the creep who sent me these files.
“I’ve been combing through all my books,” Gemma tells us. “And I’ve compiled a list of everything that could break a curse.”
“Thanks.”
“If we can at least weaken it, then maybe you guys can be awake during the day,” she adds hopefully.
“Maybe.” Hasan gives her a smile, and she blushes.
The guys and I know how fucking powerful this curse is, but Gemma’s determined to earn her keep around here, even though I’ve more than forgiven her for everything she’s done.
From the cooking and cleaning to the almost annoying help, I’ve tried over and over to tell her to chill and act normal again.
Her injuries healed fast thanks to magic, but she can’t return to work just yet. She was given two weeks off to rest and heal, and it would look suspicious if she showed up good as new after just a few days.
She won’t admit it, but I think her nonstop help goes beyond feeling guilty. We’re more alike than we initially realized, and like me, she’s keeping busy to distract herself from some hard truths she’ll need to face one day.
So why not put it off another day?
It’s what I’d do. I can’t fault her for that.
Her aunt and uncle were officially arrested and will more than likely face prison time.
Gemma said she doesn’t want to talk about it, and doesn’t even want to know the outcome of their court case.
They’re a whole new breed of crazy, and no matter what, it has to hurt like hell to have your only family hold you hostage in the basement because they think you’re evil and can talk to the devil.
“It won’t hurt,” I say, giving her an encouraging nod.
“I still need to figure out how to break down the curse more, which means I need to have another vision, one where I can hear the spell cast and try to remember it.” I shake my head and go for the bottle of wine.
“A return-to-sender spell is the best for this type of curse, but the sender has been dead for years.”
“What would happen if you did it anyway?”
“The curse would most likely hit whoever is closest to the sender,” Jac explains.
“And I’m closest,” I finish. “I’m distantly related to the sorcerer who cast the spell.”
“No shit!” Gemma’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know that.”
I shrug. “Sorry. I guess I forgot to tell you.”
Her eyebrows go up. “You’ve been preoccupied. Just a little.”
“Shut up,” I grumble, and take another drink of wine. I’m starting to feel it now and want to keep drinking, eat, and then pass out. After the twins ravish me, of course.
“Enough talking shop,” Thomas says, looking at me proudly. “Did I say that one right?”
“You did.” I smile. Hasan puts his hand on my shoulder and gently guides me to the table.
“Let’s eat.”
“Seriously?” Thomas motions to the TV and shakes his head. He leans forward, snatching the remote from Jacques’s hands. “We are not watching this.”
“Why not?” Jac asks in his accented voice. “It’s informative.”
“Exactly,” Gil says. “We’re supposed to be relaxing after dinner. Watching this shit about aliens building the pyramids isn’t relaxing.”
“It’s not shit,” Jac argues. “It’s history and it’s important.”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “Ace doesn’t want to watch this, do you, Ace?” His eyes meet mine.
“I do find ancient Egypt interesting,” I admit, and Jac beams. “But I’d like us all to agree on something tonight.”
“What about a love story?” Gemma asks hopefully. I never took her for the hopeless romantic type until she moved in and I discovered her love of all things cheesy and over the top when it comes to romance.
“There’s a new comedy series,” I start, knowing the guys—like me—are sick of her love stories.
“I forgot what channel it’s on but it looked funny.
” I hold out my hand and Thomas gives me the remote.
I’m on the couch in between the twins. Jacques is sitting in the armchair next to us, and Gemma and Hasan are on the loveseat.
Other than me obsessing over the files, the six of us work well together. It was weird at first being so open around Gemma. But she’s been a perfect addition to our weird family situation, and is two things I thought I’d never have: a best friend and a sister.
It’s a little odd having someone live with me—someone who doesn’t turn to stone when the sun comes up, that is. But as nosey as Gemma is, she respects my space and my need to be alone and have quiet time.
“What’s it about?” Gemma asks.
“Two different couples who are all friends have to raise another couple’s children after they die.”
“That’s a comedy?” Hasan asks.
“It doesn’t sound like it when I explain it, I suppose. But it looked funny from the commercials.”
“Oh, I think I know what you’re talking about,” Gemma says. “Is Georgia Anderson in it?”
“Yeah, she has a leading role.”
“Then yes, I know exactly what you’re talking about. Only I can’t remember what it’s called either.” She laughs.
After a quick internet search, we figure out what channel it’s on, and I flip to it.
I bend my legs up and lean against Gilbert, who absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down my arm.
I’m starting to feel sleepy and oh-so-relaxed by the time the first episode ends.
I go to hit play on episode number two, but the broadcaster’s voice on the live TV channel catches my attention.
I exit out of the On Demand menu to see a live news report. I swallow hard, taking it all in.
“What?” Gemma leans forward, eyes wide. “This is a joke, right?” She motions to the TV. “Monsters attacking the city?”
“No,” Jacques says, face sullen. “I don’t think it’s a joke at all.”