Chapter 20
The elevator stops on the third floor, and the doors slide open to reveal my fiancée.
Just great.
“Where have you been?” Jordan screeches. “I thought you were dead!”
“Only on the inside, dearest. Only on the inside,” I mutter. Fuck, my tiredness is soul deep—if I had a soul that is. “But I’m back now. I’ve got to go clean up.”
“No doubt,’ Jordan sneers. “I was told you were in Amsterdam. You’re filthy. Did all your clothes get peed on by Red Light whores?”
As repellent as that sounds, I’d still prefer the piss-scenario to my current situation. I’d hoped to just slip into my apartment and shower off the filth of both the inter-realm travel and too much time in a Defectivum basement, but no chance of that.
Whirling around on a kitten-heel, Jordan points a shiny fingernail at first Donovan, and then Wes. “And you! What the fuck?” The twins look bored, not acknowledging her. It warms my cold heart.
“What about me?” Maximus asks, putting a whine into his voice. “Don’t I get a dressing down too?”
That’s not going to happen. Max isn’t powerful or wealthy enough for Jordan to bother with.
No, she just likes the upper echelons of the Elite.
She and I, as King and Queen of the Academy, but in her perfect scenario, Wes and Dono would be panting after her as well, maybe with the occasional four-way thrown in.
“COSMO!” I tune back into Jordan’s squawking.
“Look, I’m beat,” I tell her. “Catch up with you tomorrow.” I know I have to keep her at least somewhat sweet, so I pour some sugar on my words.
“I went to the Netherlands because I had a meeting with a dealer at the…er…Royal Bakker Diamond House.” Summoning a smile from the bottom of my reserves, I give her an almost sincere look.
“I’m sure you can imagine why I was diamond hunting. ”
In an instant mood swing, Jordan clasps her hands together in a manner I could almost call glee. Other than the fact that everything she does is fake.
“Oh, Cosmo,” she gushes.
I blink a couple of times, then manage to continue smiling. “So, dearest, to prevent any spoilers, don’t ask me anything more about my trip, agreed?”
“Agreed.” Now she’s almost purring. “You poor thing, you look wrecked. I’ll come up and scrub your back.” As she gets close and nuzzles against me, my dragon shifts uneasily inside.
“Sorry, Jo-Jo,” Donovan says, slamming his body into mine so Jordan has to move away. “Wes and I got terrible scabies while we were in, er, Tunisia, and we kinda passed it on to old Cos. The only scrubbing going on tonight will be a cream the healer prescribed for the four of us.”
She shrieks, immediately stepping back, and the love I have for Donovan almost explodes.
Max meets my eye and grins. “Yeah, but, if you’re willing to take a dose of scabies for the team, you’re more than welcome to cream me up, Joey-girl!”
A roar of laughter comes from Wes, and my shoulders relax. I was worrying that Wes was… gone somehow. The relief is so profound I could weep, if that was something I ever did.
But then Wes’s laughter peters out, and his face turns blank again.
Jordan's glare returns, and she directs it at Max, Donovan, Wes, and finally at me. "Tunisia? Scabies?" she spits, the words dripping with disdain. "This is not a joke, Larsen. You’ll all have to be medically quarantined, and it’s the All Hallows Ball at the weekend!” Jordan couldn’t look more horrified if she tried.
"No need to bust a nut, Jo-Jo," Donovan says, looking earnest, which only makes Max's grin wider. "We’re self-quarantining.”
“You’d better be,” she snarls, moving even further away from us as she takes out her phone.
“It says you’ll be clear twenty-four hours after treatment.
Thank Gods for that. I would never have forgiven you if you’d fucked up my plans.
And Daddy said there was going to be an extremely important announcement at the ball.
I overheard him telling Mother that everything is going to change.
What if the WMO is introducing a monarchy, Cosmo? We really could become King and Queen.”
What the fuck? She’s delusional.
Though it’s true that I can’t ditch her and not go to the All-Hallows event. If my father got wind of me missing one of the Elite social events of the year, for something as pedestrian as scabies, there would be hell to pay.
Jordan raises her chin. “And I hope you’ve arranged proper transportation. I don’t want to arrive in your stupid Lotus, it’ll crease my dress.”
"Limo it is. I'll call you after our decontamination, dearest." I turn to the other three. "Now off you go, we have ointments and unguents to apply."
As the elevator doors slide shut behind her, I lean against the wall, only a fraction of the tension leaving my shoulders. Even though I’m happy Wes and Dono are back, I’m desperately in need of some peace.
What I wouldn’t give to be alone with a bottle of 1986 Chateau Lynch-Bages, an antipasto platter, and a re-watch of Bridgerton season one.
I should have been born in Regency England. Without a shadow of a doubt, that’s where my life would have evolved in a manner far more tolerable than this world.
No one says a word until the elevator dings as it reaches the fifth floor, then an uncontrollable burst of laughter bubbles up in me until it escapes in a loud gasp. “Scabies?”
The others join me in cracking up.
Gods, I’m wildly fucking glad I don’t have scabies.
“You can take your old rooms, they’re empty,” I tell the twins as I unlock the penthouse. “Max, I guess you’re on the couch tonight, but I’ll get something figured out for tomorrow.”
“It’s all chill, bro. I can curl up at the end of your bed like a good boy, if you like.”
“Hard pass.” I give an involuntary shudder. There is something about Maximus that is just so…uncivilized.
“Woof,” he grins, throwing himself onto the sectional. I turn my back; it feels like months since I’ve been here. The cool air is cedar-scented from various diffusers my cleaner sets around the place. I breathe in deeply, and my shoulders begin to relax.
Donovan goes straight to the liquor cabinet. “I take it everyone wants one?” He pours without needing an answer. “What are you going to do about Jordan?” he asks, handing me a full glass of amber liquid. “That shit can’t stand.”
“Currently, nothing,” I sigh. “There may be ninety-nine problems, and even though Jordan is one of them, she’s nowhere near the top of the list.”
Wes is looking at me quizzically. “I don’t understand. What are these problems you speak of? Why is everyone being so weird?”
I notice his hands are clutched around the crystal tumbler, but he hasn’t taken a sip yet. “Are you hungry, Wes?” I ask him, trying to feel my way.
“Hungry? No, just confused.”
Why isn’t he hungry? Did he eat down there? “I’ll order some food anyway,” I say lightly. “Do you need anything else?”
He shakes his head, frowning. “I think I’m going to lie down, my head feels kinda fucked.”
Donovan puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Good idea, bro. Want me to find some pain meds?”
Wes waves him away. “Nah, I’m good.” He gets to his feet, stumbling slightly, then heads into the room that used to be his.
“What the fuck is going on with him?” Maximus asks from his flopped position. “He’s got a very weird vibe right now.”
Donovan’s face tightens. “Yeah, that might be true, but we don’t know what he’s been through, alright? Maybe he’s been alone for twenty years—who the fuck knows?”
“Who the fuck knows indeed,” I reply. “But Max is correct, he’s not alright…and I don’t trust him.”
Donovan’s head snaps up.
Yeah, I knew that was a mistake even as I said it.
“What the fuck?” he demands, his voice, usually so laid back, is a low growl. “This is Wes we’re talking about, Cosmo. Remember him? Your only friend apart from me?”
I don’t allow myself to respond to Dono’s emotion. “I don’t recognize Wes right now. Think about the way he was with the dud. Did that seem like Wes Hart to you? I don’t know what’s happened, but I think we’d be fools to blindly assume he’s one hundred percent our Wes.”
“He’s still our Wes,” Donovan growls, his fists clenched. “I spent years down there on my own, and I’m barely holding on. If Wes can’t even remember his experience, that probably means it was worse than mine. Give him a fucking break.”
Rage is in his eyes, but he has to face reality.
A desire for Wes to be OK does not make it so.
“Don’t be naive. When we traveled around Avalon, our party stumbled upon Amirene, who’s all goodness and light,” I say, “but Wes? How do we know moving through that storm didn’t corrupt him?
I can promise you that it nearly sent me over the edge. ”
“But you were already bitter and warped.” Donovan takes a step towards me, his fists clenched. I think the fucker is actually going to hit me. “Wes is nothing but good.”
Suddenly, a high-pitched sound cuts through the tension.
“Oooh! Love and rainbows…” Max throws himself between the two of us, doing a bizarre dance in the middle of the living room.
“Sparkles and unicorns…no more fighting, instead let’s watch some porn…
” He warbles out the song while twirling a bad pirouette.
"More hugs, more drugs, not bugs up your asses…”
Donovan and I meet eyes, and the fight drains out of us. I let out a puff of air, half a laugh, and half a sigh.
“Crazy motherfucker,” Donovan mumbles, going to refill his glass.
I’m glad we put a pin in the conversation. Donovan is not in a fit state to be rational right now. He needs to unwind.
Within an hour, he, Maximus, and I have made it all the way down the bottle and demolished a cheese plate.
“I’m turning in,” Dono says, jaw cracking in a yawn. “I’ll check in on Wes first.”
“Sounds good. I’m so fucking glad you’re here,” I tell him.
“I’m glad to be here, too.” Donovan meets my gaze. “I’m glad to be back with Theo and Wes. I’ll feel the same way about you once you pull your head out of your ass. G’night.”
◆◆◆
I sleep my usual amount, ie, just enough to survive but not enough to make me feel truly functional.
Max’s snoring rumbles from the sofa, making my shoulders tense. At this time of the morning, all I want is quiet.
“I’m going for a run,” I tell the snoring idiot, then retreat to my room and pull on workout gear. If I run enough, I may be able to face the day.
Stepping out of Electis Tower, the air is chilled. I like it. It’s good to feel something of the atmosphere after the void-like nothing of Donovan’s realm.
Not bothering to stretch, I set off.
I run hard until all my airways burn. Feet pounding, one tread after another. Fuck, if only I could run away from all my demons this easily.
The green of the forest blurs as I run. How many miles? I’ve been around the academy perimeter three times now. I’ll do another lap.
Finally stopping back outside Electis, I’m drenched in sweat, and my muscles burn, but it feels good. My head is buzzing, and suddenly I realize, so is my phone. American Nightmare by Ice Nine Kills.
Fuck.
I take a deep breath and answer. “Father.”
“Cosmo.” With one word, I already know he’s pissed.
“Yes?” I respond.
“We have a matter to discuss,” he says. “I’m in Havengard City. Be at the Capitol Rotunda at noon.”
He hangs up before I can respond. A classic power move. He doesn't waste precious Tyrus Drakeward time waiting for confirmation.
Anyway, Father is in Havengard City. That’s interesting.
It takes something big to pull him out of Drakeward Tower in Southernhampton—he operates entirely on the principle that lessers come to him.
This is probably about the All Hallows Ball.
He and Mother attended last year, purely to get a proper inventory of all the local Elite families—who's up, who's down, and who's worth acquiring.
The man never attends an event unless there's a serious ROI involved.
The dragon beneath my skin shifts uneasily. If only I could set him on my father, snap his neck dragon-style, then go. Go far away. He’d be dead, and Aurora would be safe.
But no, of course, I can’t. Not while I have Father’s invisible sigil burned into my neck.
And anyway, we have a deal. He doesn’t move on his plans to marry off Aurora if I toe the line. It’s only my compliance that prevented fourteen-year-old Rory from getting married off to a Conclave member a couple of years ago.
I want to kill my father.
A day of reckoning is coming. Both my dragon and I can feel it.