Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
After I finished talking with Esperanza and Dylan, I went home. The ride was uneventful, thank the gods. No stalker SUVs.
I stopped by the garden room and checked on our plants, including the newest addition. Fennel and I informed an unreasonably excited Cecil that we were doing demo at the bar tomorrow, and then I went home to shower and get ready for bed.
The house was cool, quiet, and … empty. I’d always liked my alone time, but tonight it felt lonely instead of restorative.
No sense dwelling in the feeling. Shower and bed. Get going, Betty.
Halfway across the living room, I halted.
I looked, really looked, at the mosaic fireplace Mom and I had crafted long ago.
All the materials in the art piece were from the park—glass, stones, quartz.
Mom would tell the soil what we needed, and it would show up the next day.
Putting the piece together had been a true act of devotion by two earth witches to the soil they loved. Being around it had always been a joy.
Tonight, it made the house seem even lonelier. Mom and I’d had a complicated relationship, for sure, but I’d loved her fiercely and missed her twice as much.
For some reason, Ida’s words suddenly popped into my head. “I don’t think the ghoul pulled you into his world … I believe you pulled him into yours.”
If I had pulled Dominick into some other dimension, who better to recognize what I’d done than Ida? After all, she was a necromancer, a paranormal with the power to escort the dead into the next life.
And if it were true, if I really could do it, what if my ability wasn’t limited to pulling someone into another dimension? What if I could open a portal?
Mom.
I could go to wherever she was and see her again. I’d be able to find out what was happening to me without having to deal with my lying, Machiavellian grandfather.
And maybe I’d be able to hug her one last time.
What if you never made it back home? What if you never saw Ida, Fennel, or Cecil again? What if you never saw Ronan again?
My heart squeezed in my chest as an overwhelming sorrow stole over me. The idea of never seeing my friends and the man I loved was too much to bear. I’d walk straight into Sexton’s creepy lair and eat crow before risking it.
I grabbed my pajamas and went into the bathroom.
Stripped down and ducked into the shower without looking into a single mirror.
Demon Betty was close tonight. I’d accepted her, even embraced her, but that didn’t mean I trusted her.
She was part of me, after all, and after what had happened with Dominic, I didn’t trust myself.
A conversation I’d had with Ronan the night I officially took control of the pack embraced me in warmth, like a hug.
The dead bodies of the seven Org assassins, unmasked, gazes fixed and staring. Blood trailed from their ears, forming pools beneath their heads.
They were right about me.
My soul screamed, my heart ticked like a bomb in my chest, my body winding down as Margaux’s spell wore off.
“Come on.” He slid an arm around my waist. “Let’s get you home.”
“They were right about me,” I repeated, this time aloud.
“You saved the pack, Betty.”
“Look at them—at what I did to them. I’m just like him.”
“That’s not true.” He cupped my chin in his hand and kissed the tears from my cheeks. “You’re nothing like your grandfather. You’re not like anyone else. You’re you.”
“But…who am I?”
“A protector, a lover, a leader.”
Suddenly, I needed to see him. Desperately.
I threw on some clothes, grabbed my purse and keys, and headed out the door. On my way to the parking lot, I ran into Ida. I gave her a hug, which she returned, and we walked to my car together.
“I noticed Ronan hasn’t been around as much lately. Everything okay with you two?”
“Yeah. It’s a busy time for us both. Business stuff for him, horrifying revelations of abuse for me.”
She knew I was being flippant—hard not to with me laying it on so thick—but she didn’t push for answers. That wasn’t Ida’s way. Instead, she just told me she loved me and pretended not to see the tears in my eyes.
“I’ll call later,” I said. “We’ll talk. Promise.”
“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
We said goodbye, and I got into the Mini. KLXX was playing “Sexy Eyes” by Dr. Hook. I sneaked a look into the rearview mirror and was relieved when my own brown eyes stared back at me.
I scored a prime spot parallel to the curb smack in front of Ronan’s Pub. It felt like a sign. A portent from the universe that things were going to be all right.
“Betty Lennox, I need to talk to you.”
A man popped out from behind a recent model Chevy Bolt. On the list of the last people I’d like to see, he scored top honors. Quite a feat, because after taking control of the Pallás wolf pack, that list had grown to Santa’s Christmas list proportions.
“Miles, what the hell are you doing here?” I slammed the driver’s side door and locked the Mini.
Miles no-last-name was a strange little man.
His skin was too smooth and so white he’d probably get sunburned standing under a forty-watt lightbulb.
He seemed vaguely English, kind of Canadian, sort of mid-Western U.S.A.
He was unpindownable in heritage and nationality, and more than a little sinister.
“I need to talk to you. I swear, that’s all I’m here for.”
“Right.” I looked over his shoulder, side to side, behind him. “Where are they?”
“Who?”
“Your brothers-in-arms at The Esteemed Order of the Removal of the Blight on Humankind. The Org. The demon hunters who want to take me out.”
He jutted his chin and scowled down at me. “Unbelievable. I’m here at great personal risk to bring you a warning and you accuse me of trying to harm you. Honestly, I don’t understand what Bronwyn Jonas sees in you, I really don’t.”
“The last time you were here my boyfriend beat you up.” I glanced around. “Not that I need the backup, but I bet he’d enjoy a second shot at you. You want to go inside, or should I bring him out here to join us?”
“Neither,” Miles said hurriedly. “I don’t have much time, so listen up, Betty Lennox. I’ve got some contacts at The Org who tell me the higher-ups are über-focused on this town and, more specifically, you. Now that Hartman’s chosen your side, they’re exceptionally pissed off.”
“They aren’t mad about the seven agents I took out?”
He wrinkled his nose like he was trying to recall who I was talking about then shook his head. “No. They were low-level agents. They failed. Why would they concern themselves with failures?”
“So, the big problem isn’t that I’m a demonic blight on humanity? They’re just pissed that I made them look bad by flipping one of their best agents?” I asked.
“The demonic thing is an issue, but otherwise, yes, that about sums it up,” he said.
“Yeesh. The Org’s higher-ups are some kind of petty.”
Miles smoothed a hand over his ice-blond crewcut and groaned. “You have no idea.”
“If your bosses are out to get me, why are you here warning me about it?”
Bronwyn had told me how dangerous Miles was. Her exact words had been, “If the pack is a hot nine, and a demon bursting out of you is a sizzling ten, I’d say Miles is a Mercury-level eleven, and The Org isn’t far behind.”
However, standing here now, Miles didn’t look dangerous. He seemed acutely anxious, slightly angry, and deeply broken. Being an unwilling skin suit for a demon will do that to a person, and Gnath had paraded around in his flesh like a cosplayer at Comic-Con.
“I’m no longer affiliated with The Org,” he said.
“By choice?”
“No.” He cleared his throat, stuck out his chin. “They’re convinced I’m compromised, and I suppose they’re right. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Was it the being-possessed-by-a-demon thing? Sucks being punished for something you had little control over, doesn’t it?” I gave him a pointed look.
He pressed his lips together until they turned as white as the rest of him. “We don’t have much time. They’re hunting me, too.”
“All right, fine. If this is true, and The Org is after you, why aren’t you on a plane to anywhere else?”
“My honor demands I repay my debt to you.” He dropped the insulted act, and it made his face soften, made him look as close to human as I’d seen him. “I owe you for killing the demon that possessed me. I tried to call you several times, and you never answered. Then you blocked my number.”
The spam calls I’d been getting. All along it had been Miles.
“You have good reason to distrust me. If I were in your shoes, I’d feel the same. But I am sincere. The Org is coming for you, and they’ll give you no quarter. They intend to send you back to Hell.”
Although it was hot out—eighty-six degrees, according to my cell phone—a chill walked the bones of my spine.
“Can’t send me back to somewhere I’ve never been. This is my home. It’s where I was born.”
“Believe me, I tried to tell them that. Standing up for your right to exist did not endear me to The Org.” He shrugged one thin shoulder.
“Not that I’d planned on sticking around.
I’m finished with banishments, demons, and witches.
I’m going to purchase a small cottage in an often-misspelled European country and live out the rest of my life with a cellar full of wine and a colony of feral cats to keep me company. ”
As far as escape plans went, it wasn’t a bad one.
The front door of the pub flew open, and Ronan spilled onto the pavement with a man twice his size in a headlock.
Muscles bulged in the arm Ronan had bent around the other man’s neck, and a line of spittle ran from the man’s bloodless lips.
A small crowd of pub-goers followed them out the door. All paranormals. Mostly shifters.
Blood ran from Ronan’s nose to his chin, and the sneer on his face was terrifying. “Say it again. Say it one more godsdamned time.”
“Not … my … alpha,” the wolf in the headlock sputtered. “Didn’t … earn it.”
“Bullshit. Alpha took Floyd down in a fight so lopsided even I couldn’t believe she pulled it off, and I’ve witnessed her power.”
“Ch-ch-cheated,” the man grunted.