37. Artemis
37 ARTEMIS
“I don’t like this,” Saint says.
We’re sitting on the beach behind Kade’s house.
Our other option was breaking a window to get in, but I vetoed that.
Instead, I looped around the side of the house and planted my ass in the sand.
I dig my bare feet in, searching for warmer sand.
The moon hangs huge above us, the smattering of stars nearly washed out in comparison.
I hug my legs and rest my chin on my knee.
“I know you don’t like it,” I mumble.
“You’ve said it already.”
He almost drowned here.
That’s what I heard anyway.
Because while Nyx was dying and Saint was going through his first abrupt stage of grief, I was with my brother in the center of town.
Miles away.
I didn’t have to sit with her and watch her die.
Instead, I witnessed the aftermath.
Laid her out on a table in my club, sheltered my brother and his friends from their enemies.
Kept her safe while we figured out a proper funeral for her and dealt with the danger.
Saint and Nyx made themselves part of that fight.
“You can go,” I say suddenly, turning my cheek to stare sideways at him.
I didn’t expect him to lower himself down to the sand beside me, but he did.
I pictured him scowling and pacing by the door until Kade arrived, not…
commiserating.
He blinks at me.
“Why would I go?”
I sigh.
He reaches out and touches my shoulder.
He prods at the skin until my brows lower.
“You never mentioned the tattoo,” he says.
I scoff. “And give you the satisfaction? No, thanks.”
But I do pull my arm out of Kade’s sweatshirt and lift the fabric until we can both examine my bare shoulder in the moonlight.
There’s no trace of a tattoo.
The scratches that were left by the machine have long since healed, the marker washed away.
“What was it?” I ask now.
“Just a flower. Nothing special.”
Nothing special .
Not like what he would put on Nyx.
She didn’t have any tattoos when I first met her, but five years later she was covered.
I imagine every tattoo he gave her was special.
This wasn’t a tattoo.
It was a prank.
Or punishment—whatever he wants to call it.
I push my arm back into the sweatshirt and resume my earlier position.
The whitecaps of the waves catch the moonlight.
Watching them is soothing, although nothing can truly calm the riot in my chest.
My eyes burn, and before I can stop it, a tear slides down my cheek.
“Why do you have to be such a dick?”
I’m honestly upset about this?
I wipe at it and stand, leaving Saint to sit in the sand and contemplate my abrupt question.
The sound of a car in the driveway forces me to move faster, and I collect my boots and meet Kade in the driveway.
He tosses me the keys and carries Reese out of the back.
I scramble to unlock the door, then step out of his way.
Reese’s head lolls, his eyes shut.
He should look peaceful, shouldn’t he?
But he just seems to be in pain.
Sweat dots his brow.
“What’s wrong with him?” I demand, following Kade into the kitchen.
He sets Reese on the island—literally, he needs to get more furniture in here—and steps back.
Saint taps on the sliding glass door.
I yank it open, then return to the island.
I touch the back of my hand to Reese’s forehead and wince.
“He’s burning up.”
“I don’t know,” Kade says.
“I found him strung up in a lower room and got him out of there. He hasn’t woken up since.”
“Strip him,” Saint orders.
He comes up close behind me.
“He could have an injury we can’t see.”
Kade and Saint make quick work of stripping him down to his boxers.
His torso is a mottled patchwork of bruises, some much darker and fresher than the rest. Kade probes at his rib cage.
If it hurt, Reese would react, right?
Kade grabs his phone from his pocket and tosses it to me.
“It keeps buzzing.”
I scroll through the notifications, recognizing the unsaved Sterling Falls number.
“Why is the sheriff calling you?”
He shrugs and continues his examination.
I shrug, too, and hit the button to redial.
“Laurent,” Nathan Bradshaw snaps.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”
“Nice to hear your voice, Nathan.” I turn away from the three men and heading quickly into the front room.
“What is so urgent?”
“I—” He pauses.
“Why do you have his phone?”
“He handed it to me and asked me to figure out why it kept buzzing.” My tone is sarcastic.
“I told him it was because you kept calling, and then I took matters into my own hands.”
The sheriff huffs.
“Great. Put him on, would you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I know what you did for him, Nathan, okay? So just cut the bullshit. If he asked you to do something else?—”
“Jesus, Tem.”
The sheriff’s voice gets softer, like he’s pulled the phone from his ear.
He’s just muttering a string of curses at this point, most of which are not directed at me.
Which is good, because otherwise he’d get a knee to his dick the next time I see him.
“I received a message for Kade. It came through our security system and wasn’t processed right away, but?—”
“But, what?”
“It’s about Reese Avery. I know he was looking for him. And he had you looking, too.”
I stop pacing.
My grip on the phone gets harder, my palms suddenly sweating.
“Tell me.”
“I’m sending his phone a picture of it. As far as threats go, Artemis, I cannot ascertain how serious this one is. If Avery is still missing, or?—”
The phone buzzes against my ear.
“Got it. We’ll call you back.”
I hang up on him and open the text, enlarging the photo.
Envelope—typed, addressed to Kade Laurent care of the sheriff at his office’s address.
Letter…
My blood goes cold.
I am the darkness that greets you each night.
Reese Avery is a pawn to sacrifice…
or save.
But I cannot release him until I get what I want.
-Hypnos
Think, Artemis.
Hypnos.
The god of sleep…
My mind flashes to Olympus.
Standing in the crowd watching a lean, dark-haired man destroy one of our regular fighters.
Demanding not for a favor, but for Sterling Falls to fall to ruin.
He promised war.
No one took him seriously—and then he spotted me.
Sticking to the shadows like always.
Your demise will be the sweetest. Always the hunter.
But now, you will be the hunted.
I shiver as his words root in my chest.
Hypnos is Gabriel.
And Gabriel…
I lurch and sprint into the other room, where Saint and Kade are staring down at Reese like they don’t know what the fuck to do.
“We need to get him to the hospital,” I gasp.
“He’s been poisoned.”