Chapter 37
LYRA
Iwoke with a kink in my neck and Emory’s foot in my face. The three of us had passed out on the couch last night. Cal snored into my left ear; his large frame wedged between us. The couch groaned, and my elbow connected with Cal’s ribs as I attempted to shift my weight off my aching shoulder.
“What time is it?” Cal yawned, stretching his arms above his head, revealing abs he spent hours in the gym perfecting.
“I don’t know.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Sunlight filtered in through the living room window, so it couldn’t be too early. We’d all crashed last night. The discarded tarot cards still sat on the coffee table. And we were no closer to getting any answers.
“Shit, Kenna’s phone went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even ring,” Cal grumbled, standing from the couch. He leaned forward and then back, trying to stretch out his back.
“We’ll go swing by Kenna’s and see if she’s there,” I said, not yet ready to get out from under the blanket.
Cal looked around the living room for his wallet and keys. “Okay, I’m gonna head home, but I’ll be back in a little. Let me know if she’s there.”
Emory walked Cal out, and they lingered long enough that I went to make sure they hadn’t gone missing too.
“Can you call my phone?” I asked, unlocking my SUV in the driveway.
“It’s ringing,” Emory said, waving goodbye to Cal as he backed out of the driveway. She opened the passenger side door and helped me look. I crammed my hand between the seat and shifter but came away with nothing but an old ChapStick. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had it.
I’d find it later. I’m sure it would show up somewhere.
“Get in, and let’s see if Kenna’s home.” Hope still fluttered in my chest that she’d be there. I started the car, cranking up the heat.
Emory didn’t say a single word on the ride over, busying herself on her phone. The tension in the car was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Kenna’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Not a good sign.
Emory tried to jump out as soon as I stopped the car, but I locked the doors.
“What are you doing?” She whipped her head around.
“Look…I’m sorry.” I shifted in my seat. “I shouldn’t have hidden everything from you, and you have every right to be mad. But—”
“But what?” she cut me off. “And then you dropped the bombshell that the spirits led you to the bridge like it was nothing.” Her voice broke. “Do you have any idea how terrifying that is? I’m so scared I’m going to lose you to the spirits too.”
“Is that what you think happened to mom?” I’d never asked her that before.
She toyed with the loose strands of her hair, refusing to look up. We sat in silence for what felt like hours but in reality, was probably only seconds. “Yes,” she said so quietly I thought I was hearing things. “What do you think?”
“I think mom loved us more than anything, and you don’t have to worry about me meeting the same fate.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was scared. I’m still fucking terrified. Everything I thought I knew, everything mom taught me about the spirits was wrong. I didn’t know what to do and tried to fix it on my own because I thought it was all my fault.”
Her eyes seemed to soften at the confession.
“I thought this was all happening because I sucked at shepherding the souls. Mom made it look so easy.”
“I’m sorry, too, that you never felt like you could talk to me about the spirits. But you felt comfortable enough to talk to Grey?”
“It felt easy, like he understood without judging me. But I screwed that all up.”
“And you’re absolutely positive that he didn’t murder Mr. Whitethorn?” She quirked a brow.
“Yes. You should have seen his face when I told him that Mr. Whitethorn had been murdered. It was pure shock and then pure rage after I accused him of doing it.”
“Okay, then after this go apologize. You’re actually pretty good at them.” She smiled, letting me know she understood, and she’d get over it. We might fight, but in the end, we were sisters and always had each other’s back.
A weight lifted off my chest after our conversation. Next, I needed to apologize to Grey.
We walked up the steps to Kenna’s front door and knocked. Emory didn’t wait before pressing the doorbell twice. We stood, waiting, but there was no answer. Kenna wasn’t here.
“Where else could she be?” Emory asked as we made our way back to the car.
“I have no idea.”
“Let’s drive around town and see if we can find her car.”
With each place we drove past without any sign of Kenna, our chances of finding her became slimmer and slimmer.
We rounded the corner, and the Dutchman came into view. I hit my brakes, sending Emory into the dashboard.
“What is it? Do you see Kenna?” Emory asked, frantically looking around.
“Just give me a minute,” I told her.
I turned into the parking lot, pulling up next to the black Camaro. I went over my apology again and again in my head as I climbed from the car, Emory following behind me.
“Can I help you?” Hayes, the bartender asked as we walked through the door. He had full lips, sharp cheekbones, and was drop-dead gorgeous.
No one sat at the bar. There actually wasn’t a single soul in the place. Were they even open? It was still pretty early in the morning.
“Oh, umm, I was seeing if someone was here. His car’s parked out front.” I looked around for Grey’s tall frame. Not that it would be hard to find him in this completely empty bar.
“Are you looking for someone in particular? Maybe I can help,” he offered. “Is he about this tall?” He held out a hand, indicating a little taller than himself. “Dark hair, amber eyes, and wears a perpetual scowl?”
“Wow, that was spot-on.” I looked behind me, expecting to see Grey standing there.
“Yeah, he spends a lot of time sitting right there.” He pointed to the stool in front of me.
“Is he here?” My heart did somersaults in my chest.
“No, I haven’t seen him since last night. He was pretty pissed when he came in.” He gave me a knowing look, and guilt twisted my insides.
“Okay, thanks.” I lingered awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do next.
“Well, if you hear from him…” Emory leaned over the bar, writing her number on someone’s discarded receipt. “Could you let him know Lyra is looking for him.”
“Of course, love.” They stared at one another, and it felt like I was intruding on a private moment.
“Emory,” she corrected.
“Hayes.” He extended his hand in greeting, she took it, and he brought it to his lips like in the damn movies. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I see him.” Hayes pealed his eyes away from my sister for a split second to look at me.
“Oh, by the way, that’s my number,” Emory said with a smirk.
“Thanks,” I said dragging Emory from the bar.
“Cal is freaking out because we’re not home,” Emory said, reading an incoming text.
“Tell him we’ll be there in five.” I let out a long sigh. We still had no idea where Kenna was, and now Grey was also missing.
Cal’s Jeep was parked in our driveway. He leaned against it; arms crossed.
“He looks mad.” Emory pointed out the obvious. His glower deepened as we parked.
“They found another body,” Cal said as we got out of the car. “And then I come over here and you two were gone.”
My eyes drifted to Eli, who stood with a box of donuts.
“Also, Eli told me what happened in the church,” Cal exploded.
So the donuts in Eli’s hand were a peace offering. I turned to him and mouthed, “traitor.”
He extended the box, and I snatched it from his hand. “There better be a chocolate sprinkle one in here,” I mumbled.
“I got you two.” He said with a sheepish smile. Eli would vehemently deny it, but he was a big old softy under his hard exterior.
“We need to get inside or the entire neighborhood is going to know our business.” Emory jerked her head toward a young couple walking their dog. The dog sniffed our mailbox, lifting its leg to mark its territory. Cal gave a friendly wave, and they picked up their pace.
“You have some explaining to do, Lyra,” Cal said as we all filed into the kitchen.
I stuffed an entire donut in my mouth, buying myself a few more seconds. Sprinkles and chocolate covered my lips as the deep-fried dough dried out my mouth. I debated inhaling a second one, but Cal slammed the lid shut and pulled the box toward himself.
“Talk.” He narrowed his eyes.
I finished chewing and swallowed. The gulp audible. “I let…” I stuttered, clearing my throat. Shame sat on my chest like a crushing weight, cutting off the air and stealing the words from my mouth.
“I freed a demon from the Whitethorn’s basement the night of Kenna’s birthday party.” The words finally came out, and continued to flow. “I was helping him with a problem, and he was helping me, but then the sacrifices started. Three people are dead, and something dark and ancient is stirring.”
The room fell silent. The tightness in my chest returned the longer no one spoke. “Um…yeah—” I tried to fill the awkward silence. Heat flushed my cheeks, traveling down my neck and chest, turning me bright red.
“Good thing happens in three,” Eli muttered sarcastically, “but only in Twisted Spires does that mean sacrifices.”
Thank god for Eli’s morbid sense of humor.
“Numbers do have meaning. Three is a divine number,” Emory added. “It could have some significance.”
“And what about Kenna’s disappearance? Do you think she might have something to do it this?” Eli wasn’t fucking around with these questions. He went straight for the jugular.
“What? No—”
Cal slammed his fist on the counter, stopping me midsentence. “Keep those stupid fucking thoughts to yourself.”
“But you think Mr. Whitethorn might have been?” Eli ignored the anger simmering off Cal.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, looking between the two of them.
“It sounds like he was.”
“Dude, I warned you to shut the fuck up.” Cal flexed his fingers, balling them into fists, practically salivating at the idea of a fight.
My eyes pleaded with Eli to shut the fuck up and stop antagonizing him. Cal was short tempered and quick to fight, and Eli was poking the bear.
“Sorry, I’m not a good little lap dog like you.”
Cal lunged, fists flailing, and the two tumbled to the floor. Cal struggled, gaining the upper hand, and used the weight of his body to pin Eli to the ground. Cal clenched his right hand into a fist, connecting directly with Eli’s jaw.
“Cal, stop it,” Emory pleaded, trying to drag him off of Eli.
Laughter filled the room. At first, I thought it belonged to Cal, but no, it was Eli. He gave Cal a bloody smile, his teeth a deep crimson.
Cal froze, fist raised above his head as if realizing what he’d just done.
“Feel better?” Eli asked, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the kitchen floor.
We were going to need to sage the shit out of the house after this. The last thing we needed was all this negative energy suffocating Emory’s magic.
“Yeah, I do actually.” Cal extended an arm, helping Eli to his feet.
“Good cause you were like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute,” Eli said, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand.
“You did that on purpose?” I shook my head in disbelief at their stupidity.
“Yeah, and it worked.” He smirked.
The tension and anger from earlier were gone. Two minutes later, Cal sat next to Eli eating a jelly filled donut like he hadn’t just punched his best friend in the face.
I reached for the last chocolate sprinkle donut, but before I could take a bite a splitting pain tore through my head. I dropped the donut to the floor and stumbled backwards from the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Emory gripped my arm, trying to keep me upright.
I shut my eyes tight, trying to shut out the building pressure in my head.
“Lyra,” Emory’s hands tightened.
“The spirits…” I managed to get out. “We need to get to the church, now.”