Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
GABE
Ifeel sick. Everything in me yearns to turn around, go back to the cabin, and crawl into bed with Tom until life goes back to normal. But if I do that, life might not go back to normal. So instead, I stride through the front door of the house, into the reception area. The others wait outside.
The overwhelming relief on Skye’s face when he sees me shores up my resolve.
“Thanks, Skye,” I say, determinedly looking only at him. “If you want to go ahead and close the gates and lock up, that’s fine. I’ll see them off the property when we’re done.”
Skye nods mutely, making me think the parents have been assholes to him. That’s not like them. Before all this, I would have said they were good people. Polite to strangers, at the very least.
“Aren’t you going to say hello, Gabe?” My father’s voice is hard and mocking, the furthest thing from what I remember from my childhood. They know we’ve been working against them; I feel it in my bones.
I meet his gaze, braced for what I’ll see there, but there’s nothing. He’s my dad, but my dad never looked at me with that cold, flat expression.
“Let’s go outside” is all I say.
“Maybe we’d rather stay here,” Connor’s mom counters, crossing her arms and leaning on the reception desk.
They’re all openly armed, and I’m glad we paused for long enough to grab our own weapons.
“We’ve come all this way to see you, Gabe.
Aren’t you going to invite us to sit down and offer us a drink? ”
Fuck, I hate this. Why are we playing games? “I don’t live here. My place is down the hill a bit. I can offer you a drink there, if you like. But in the meantime, this business is closing and you’re holding up the employees.”
Dad opens his mouth again, but Norval pops in. “What’s this? A family reunion and nobody invited me?” He harrumphs, and I relax a little.
“Uncle,” Connor’s dad says unenthusiastically, and I remember suddenly that he’s never really liked having Norval around. When we were kids, he always palmed Norval off on Connor and me. “What are you doing here?”
Norval narrows his eyes. “Checking up on Connor. You know he’s always been a troublemaker. Why are we standing around?”
“Gabe hasn’t invited us to sit.” My mother finally speaks, and I try not to be disappointed that her words place her very clearly on the opposite side from me. I knew that already, but I guess part of me was hoping.
“Why would he? That would be like if he invited you to sit at the doctor’s office. Skye, aren’t you meant to be closing up?”
“Yes, I—”
“Well, hop to it, boy! Does that rainbow hair slow your brain? Pah! Let’s go outside so the boy can do his job.” He hustles everyone in the direction of the door, and to my relief, they go.
“Lock up,” I mouth to Skye, and he nods.
Outside, my brothers and Tom are waiting on the forecourt—along with Marc.
My alarmed gaze flashes to the parents, but they don’t bat an eye.
I guess that’s all the proof we need that they’re in league with Cato and know exactly what we’re doing.
I can’t think of another reason they wouldn’t react to a higher demon being here.
“Brought reinforcements, did you?” Dad says over his shoulder to me. Matt flinches, and I resist the urge to go to him. There will be time for reassurance later.
The sound of an approaching engine catches my attention, and I cast a quick glance down the drive. It’s Jill and the others. Thank fuck.
“What are you doing here?” Connor’s mom asks Ian.
His hands curl into fists. “Visiting.”
“The more relevant question,” Connor says, “is what are you doing here?”
“Why shouldn’t we be here? Our sons are here… all four of them. Even though two should be on the other side of the country.” Dad’s back to sounding mocking.
“Really?” Matt demands. “We’re going to do all these bullshit word games? Fuck that.”
“Language, Matthias,” Mom chides, and I see the moment my baby brother’s innocence dies.
“Language? You’re fucking plotting with a higher demon to betray humanity, and you’re worried about my language? Fuck my language!”
There’s a tiny shocked silence, broken by the sound of car doors slamming, and then Connor’s dad says, “Don’t be a hypocrite. You’ve been plotting with a higher demon yourself.”
Matt’s eyes bulge, but Ian steps in front of him. “Are you deliberately missing the point? The part where you spat on a thousand years of family legacy to condemn every living human to pain and death?”
“You’re exaggerating. You don’t know what you’re talking about—how can you? You’re still a child. We’re doing this for our families.”
Connor sucks in a deep breath, and rage ignites deep inside me.
But Ian’s not done. “For your families? Really? Well, hey, I’m your family. I’m your son. My brother’s your son too. I don’t know why you’d come to visit your sons with your swords at the ready, but I guess I just don’t know what I’m talking about. So tell me… what’s my major?”
His father blinks. “What?”
“Ian,” his mom begins, but he cuts her off.
“No, no. This is important. You’re my parents.
I’m your family. You care about us, right?
That’s why you betrayed humanity to demons.
You did it for your family. So come on… tell me the names of my friends.
” A little part of me dies as Ian stares down his parents in the silence that proves they never paid attention.
“Let’s go for something simple, then. What’s Connor’s boyfriend’s name?
His boyfriend of over a year, who he’s been living with for six months.
If you care so much about your family, then surely you know all the important details of our lives. ”
“You’re being ridiculous,” his mother says firmly. “You don’t know why we’ve made the decisions we made.”
“Tell us, then,” I say. My voice is a little croaky.
I’m aware that we have an audience, and I wish we didn’t.
“We’re listening. Tell us why you joined Cato and let demons form links with you.
” I can’t hide my disgust. Letting a demon attach itself to your soul…
that destroys your chances of reincarnation and dooms you to eternal, final death.
My mother’s lip curls. “Not random demons. The demon.”
It takes me a second to get it—she’s being a snob. Their links are to Cato, and she thinks that makes a difference, makes it better somehow.
Dad squares up. “His plans were developed long before we were even born,” he declares. “He would have seen them through with or without us. What other choice did we have?”
I wait, but it seems he’s done. I look over at Connor, and he has the same slack-jawed shock on his face that I feel. That’s it?
“That’s it?” Norval echoes. “Did you even try to find other options?” I know what he’s thinking. We learned that Cato was planning something, and we searched for more information. Looked for anything that would help us stop him. But apparently, for our parents, that was all too much effort.
Connor’s dad scoffs. “Other options? What other option is there? Get off your high horse. You’re no better than us, consorting with a higher demon.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ian yells.
“You joined forces with a demon who plans to enslave and torture humanity, and then you try to turn it on us? You’re comparing Cato, who wants to destroy Earth, to Marc, who’s trying to stop it?
Yeah, he’s a selfish, sadistic asshole, but I’d consort with him a million times over instead of you, who betrayed a thousand years of history and billions of beings because ‘he would have done it anyway’!
” He takes two steps toward Marc, who’s watching this whole debacle with his usual bored expression, grabs the front of his shirt, and yanks him in to plant a kiss on his mouth.
Marc reels back, eyes wide, and Ian turns back to his parents. “How’s that for consorting?”
I swallow bile and reach out a hand to steady Connor, whose face has gone a little green. Randy makes a choking sound. We all know Ian was just making a point, but still…
“How could you?” my mother gasps, hand over her mouth, and I blink.
“Seriously?” I demand. “You’re letting a demon feed on your soul, but a little kiss crosses the line?” How can these people be our parents?
Into the fraught tension walks Josh, coming around the side of the house with a sword in hand. He pauses, taking everything in, then strolls to Connor’s side. “This is yours.”
Con takes it. “Thank you.”
The banality of it all strikes me as funny, and I choke down the bubble of laughter.
“Well.” Dad shakes his head. “We hoped you’d see sense. But I suppose this is what it comes to.”
Every part of me goes on high alert. Are they going to try to kill us?
Even before he fully pops in, the dread and fear swamp me, and I know who this is. The way Marc straightens and his face sets confirms it.
Cato.
I should have known by now that “evil demon” doesn’t always mean cloven hoofs and horns.
It doesn’t mean ugliness so extreme it’s difficult to look at.
Cato is a medium-height, medium-build man with white-blond hair and eyes so blue, they look almost purple.
If not for his sneer—and the terror his mere presence causes—I might even have called him attractive.
“Isn’t this fascinating,” he drawls. “Never did I imagine that these puny humans would try to thwart me.”
The timbre of his voice makes my blood run cold, and I desperately remind myself that he’s doing this deliberately, that my fear is not real. Well, not all of it.
But his presence here is not a good thing.
In fact, I’m about 99.999 percent sure that it means shit’s about to go down.
Swallowing hard, I tear my gaze away from him—despite the prey instinct that wants to know where he is and what he’s doing at all times—and look at my brothers. There has to be some way to signal—