Darkness Fair (The Dark Cycle Book 2) (7 page)

“Jaasi’el, however, is another story. He is powerful, and the Key Keepers of the gates favor him enough to help him get through into Sheol to seek Ava’s soul. This is another reason I’ve come here to check on the protections; I wanted to be sure Jaasi’el hadn’t found her body—the soul and body must be reunited if he wishes to truly have her for himself. But the protections appear to be very solid, despite your mentor’s failings.”

“Sid’s doing the best he can.” I have no clue why I’m defending the guy, but I suddenly feel annoyed, seeing Eric’s obvious unhappiness with everything.

“It won’t matter, he has very little time left here.”

A weight settles in my chest.

“He broke the rules of nature, Aidan. He will have to pay the price eventually.” His voice is hard, and I wonder why he’s acting so above it all. It’s not like him.

“You’ve turned into a bit of a dick, Eric.”

“My name is Azri’el. Eric was a construct for hiding what I truly am.” He kind of sounds like he’s saying that more for his own benefit than mine. “My task was never to be more than a protector and a watcher.”

“Eric was my friend, but whatever.”

“That time has passed. Now
you’re
something else as well. You’re human, but not the same as those you’ll save. And you’ll see, it will separate you from them. They won’t understand the difference; they’ll fear it.”

I think of the way the cat lady looked at me, the way people always seem to look at me now. But how is that any different than when I was a street kid? “I’m used to being an outcast.”

He nods, then looks over to the two frozen figures in the room. “You should go back to the women now. I’ll protect them if anything attempts to do harm, but you’ll need to put some barriers in place around the property. I have other things that need my attention. If I can’t find Jaasi’el and hold him back, then you’ll have more to worry about than a lower scout. You’ll have unimaginable things coming through that doorway. Things not seen by human eyes since the time of Noah.”

TEN

Rebecca

The cab driver pulls up in front of the LA Paranormal house. I hand him one of the many hundred-dollar bills my dad left me—guilt always pays well. When I tell the driver to keep the change, he jumps right out to help me with my bags, obviously excited about the forty-dollar tip. I thank him and tell him I can manage on my own when he offers to walk me to the door. Then I turn and head up the brick path.

I stop at the base of the porch steps and straighten my shoulders, trying to convince myself I did the right thing coming here. Aidan didn’t meet me for coffee and didn’t text because he was busy. Everything is fine. It has to be.

Flowers line the porch and bright-green grass carpets the yard; they’re obviously not concerned about the drought. The house looms over me a little; the three-story Victorian is like an old yellow farmhouse that doesn’t seem to fit in the neighborhood. It should be cheery, but it isn’t. The windows stare back at me like they know I’m intruding.

My scar tingles at the thought of going back inside there. But I take a deep breath and walk up the steps onto the wrap-around porch and face the red door. There’s a wreath made of an odd mix of plants hanging on it.

I knock. When no one answers after a few seconds, I reach over and ring the bell.

The door opens quickly. It’s that Jax guy, a frown of annoyance on his face. “No
Watchtower
. I’m already actualized, thanks,” he says before looking at me. Then his eyes settle on my chest, trailing up to my face. “Oh, shit, hey! The sexy redhead.” He winks and pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose. “How’s things in rich-girl land?”

Jax is kind of cute, actually. He has a cool style and is always smiling. If only he wasn’t such a chauvinistic pig.

“Is Aidan here?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope. On a job, of sorts. But maybe I can help.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans on the doorjamb.

I try to peek around him. “Isn’t Connor here?”

He rolls his eyes and turns, yelling into the interior of the house. “Connor!” Then he motions me into the entryway. “You sure he’s the one you need, Ruby? He’s the grumpy one, you know. I’m the fun one.”

“It’s Rebecca.”

“Sure, right.” He glances down at my cleavage again, then back to my face with a wicked smile. “You here to hang, or what?”

I clear my throat and clutch the strap of my shoulder bag tighter. “I need a place to stay.”

His face opens wide, brow going up and smile spreading. “Really. That should be interesting.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s obvious I’m the butt of some joke in his head.

Connor comes from the back of the house, saving me. “Hey, what’s up?”

I forgot how blond and tall he is, maybe six feet and built like a swimmer. He fills the space he stands in like he’s claiming it. He’s eighteen or nineteen, as I recall. Though he seems older with that shadowed look in his very blue eyes.

“Red here is wanting to crash,” Jax says.

“Rebecca,” I correct. I don’t like being nicknamed for the color of my hair. I glare at him. “Rebecca Emery Willow McLane. But you can call me Emery.”

He winks again. “Sure thing.”

Connor seems confused by my paragraph of names—I don’t blame him, really—but he just studies me and then says, “I’m not sure there’s room for you anymore.”

Oh, God, I didn’t even think about the possibility of being rejected.

Jax looks at Connor with a frown. “What? Of course there’s room.” Then he turns back to me—or my chest, I should say. “There’re plenty of beds around here that would welcome you, Red.”

I cringe. “Wow.”

Connor shoves Jax aside, grabbing my bag like he’s trying to be helpful. But then he says, “This is a bad idea. Isn’t there somewhere else you can stay?”

“No,” I say through my teeth.

He slips the strap of my bag over his shoulder and then just stands there and stares at me. It’s a digging stare, like he’s trying to figure me out, not like how guys usually study me. And he’s actually looking at my face. It makes me notice his eyes and how light his eyelashes are, almost white. Something about him reminds me of Charlie. Probably just because he smells like the ocean.

Okay, I should
not
have noticed that.

“Fine,” he says at last. “You’ll bunk with Holly again.”

I like Holly. She’s totally insane but she’s easy to get along with and not judgmental in the least, unlike my other friends who pick you apart like birds fighting over roadkill.

“Fine,” I say.

I follow him up the stairs, into Holly’s room. He sets my bags on the spare bed. “Holly’s at the college. She’s taking summer classes. But she’s usually home around five.”

“I know,” I say. “We text.” I’ve kept in touch with her a little. “And we’re Facebook friends.” I sit beside my suitcase on the bed. “Where’s everyone else? Are they out investigating something?”

He doesn’t answer for a few seconds. He folds his arms across his chest, looking me over like I’m a problem. “It’s nothing personal,” he says, his serious tone unnerving me, “but you really don’t belong here. Especially now. There’s too much going on, and all you’ll do is cause trouble.”

I don’t say anything, unsure how to respond to such a blunt assessment.

And if that wasn’t enough, he adds, “We don’t have time for any more
90210
high school bullshit.”

Whoa, low blow. “Are you kidding me? Last time I was here, I got my arm sliced open and nearly died. You think I don’t understand how intense things can be? I just need a freaking place to sleep for a little while.”

“It’s not as if you can’t afford a room at the Hyatt. You came here to be close to
him
.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, feeling like he’s accusing me of a crime or something.

“Aidan isn’t on the market, Rebecca.”

Guilt turns to defensive anger. “I don’t deserve the third degree,
Connor
,” I say, mimicking his derisive tone.

He pauses at that and his posture changes, a little less aggressive. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice kid and all, but—”

“I’m not a
kid
,” I say, probably with a little more heat than I need to. It’s all so infuriating and mortifying. “I’m perfectly capable of minding my own business and staying out of the way. I’m sixteen, not six, so kiss my butt.”

He releases a small puff of laughter and his hands go up in surrender. “I get the message. You’re older than the hills and wise as an owl.”

I want to throw something at his smug face. Who does he think he is, talking to me like this? I’m here, asking for help, and he’s acting like I’m trying to break up the couple of the year. As if he has a say in who I can like or who can like me. What a total a-hole.

And, for the life of me, I have no sassy comeback to throw at him. Which just infuriates me more.

His smile fades a little and he moves like he’s going to leave, heading for the door. When he’s right beside me he pauses, only an inch away, and whispers, “I know you could probably have any guy you want. But you’re not going to get this one.”

He says it like an apology. But I hear it like needles in my heart.

He moves to the door and before he slips out, he says over his shoulder, “And don’t think he’ll be happy that you’ve come back.”

ELEVEN

Aidan

I have to sit through two cases on
Judge Judy
before the two women let me off the couch to leave. I finally convince them that I’m fine, I was just dizzy from not eating, which made me trip and hit my head or something, I don’t know. I’m so confused and distracted by everything that Eric said, I just babble until they stop clucking like flustered hens.

And to keep them from calling 911 or their concierge
doctor, I eat two PB&Js and drink a glass of lemonade, a glass of milk, and then somehow manage to get down three Oreos.

I’m pretty sure I’ll hurl if I move too much.

Apparently, I was only “passed out” for a few seconds. But I was with Eric for much longer than that. He talked about a whole lot of stuff he didn’t actually
explain
. Ava’s father is coming and he’s a badass dominion angel of some kind. And he’s pissed. All that was pretty clear. What wasn’t clear was why Ava’s dad is suddenly interested in saving his daughter who he abandoned to Darkness. He’s creating a very large problem by leaving ranks, though. Now parts of the spirit world are breaking into chaos because of it. And as things begin to crumble, everything twisted and nasty on the other side of Sheol is beginning to peek through.

“Read the journal,” Eric kept saying in answer to my questions about my new role. And also in answer to my questions about how I can save my sister.

After the fourth time he said it, I pretty much yelled at him that I
had
been reading the damn journal but I couldn’t find any real information on anything except my new body. He just looked at me stoically and said I wasn’t reading it right and that the most vital thing I needed to know for now was in the first under-passage—whatever that means. Then he touched my head and sent me back to my body before I could ask him anything else.

He’s been standing behind my great-grandmother’s chair ever since, his body still and his features grave. He said he’s going to protect the house and the souls inside, mark it to warn any other spirits away—including other angels—until I can get the land warded. The demons are apparently going to be drawn here, to the area near the cave, now that the doorway is cracked. Eric made it fairly clear, though, that he’s got better things to do than babysit and watch crime dramas, so I have to hurry. The guy’s turned into a major stiff. A bossy one.

I’ll need to block the cave opening with more wards, the strongest I can find. And I’ll have to figure out something with Sid to protect Mrs. O’Linn’s house, as well as the beach—something to keep the demons from attempting more spells with any animal carcasses. I’m going to have my work cut out for me over the next few days.

I make it to the door, the ladies following me. To soothe their worries I take a paper bag of yet more food from Fa’auma. My great-grandmother lectures me about eating better and scolds me for interrupting her “repose.” In spite of her disapproving frown, I can smell her concern for me and feel her hope that I’ll come back soon so she can make sure I’m okay.

“I’ll see you in a day or two,” I say and lean over, pecking her forehead with a kiss. Her skin is soft and smells like baby shampoo. A wave of affection rolls through me, but I know she’ll hate it if I try for a hug, so I just pat her bony shoulder and step back. “Don’t worry, I’m tough.”

“Oh, nonsense,” she huffs. “I don’t worry.” But she looks a little flustered from my kiss, touching her pink cheeks as I say my good-byes.

When I get down to the beach, Sid is gone, but Kara’s sitting outside the cave, waiting for me.

“Sorry it took so long,” I say. “I just wanted to be sure they were okay.” But instead I chatted it up with my guardian angel, then was force-fed half the peanut butter and jelly in Southern California.

“Sid had to go wait in the car,” she says. “The pull of the doorway was making him sick.”

I nod and look down the dark corridor of the cave. The pull doesn’t even feel that strong anymore. Definitely not as strong as it was before Ava went to sleep. I think of what Eric said about Sid not having much time left, and my stomach hurts.

“The leg the demon dragged in,” I say. “We need to figure out who it . . . goes to.”

Kara scrunches up her nose. “Ugh. That was just . . . Sid couldn’t be in the cave for more than a second, so he made me check it to see if there was recent bleeding. Looks like the demon didn’t get the leg off of anyone living.”

That’s a relief.

She holds up Ava’s bag and hands it to me. “I picked everything up, so it wouldn’t get lost. I thought you’d want it.”

I take the worn brown leather satchel, knowing it holds the reason we’re standing here talking about demons ripping off legs: my mom’s grimoire. “Thanks,” I say. Even though I don’t really want it, I need to be sure it stays hidden, too.

“Is everyone all right up there?” she asks.

I move away from the cave and look out at the waves. “Yeah, but we have to get to work, putting wards up around this place. Eric said the demons won’t stop coming.”

“Eric? You saw him?” She’s the only one I told about Eric being an angel. Everyone else still thinks he’s been missing because he’s on some expedition to find illegal loot.

“Sort of.” I breathe out, feeling tired and stuffed with cookies and sandwiches. I turn and rest my hand on her upper arm, needing a connection to her. “I just have to think. And figure out how to block some of the negative stuff that’s about to come rolling in.”

“We just got more salt from Costco. And Connor and I can try out some of the rune magic we’ve been learning.”

“For now, I need to get out of here.” Maybe the gateway’s affecting me, too, because I’m feeling overstimulated and nauseated. Or maybe it was the whole out-of-body-experience thing. Can a guy get motion sick from traveling through space and time in seconds?

Kara moves closer, reaching out to touch my face. “You don’t look so hot, either.” Her fingers graze my jaw.

I give her a half smile. “They fed me a few pounds of Wonder Bread and Skippy up there. My hotness may now be buried in layers of PB&J.”

“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes and slips her arm in mine as we head for the car. “How did I ever fall for a guy who can’t handle a few old ladies doting over him?”

I pause when we’re halfway up the path. “Wait. Did you say you’ve fallen for me?” I wrap her in my arms, her warmth soothing my raw nerves already.

She laughs into my chest and tries to pull away, but I don’t let her go. I kiss her temple and grip her by the shoulder as we continue walking.

I try to hide that I’m using her steadiness to hold me up a little.

I need to come up with a plan to get this place locked up tight, to protect my great-grandmother and Fa’auma, and Ava. And I have to hope that whatever Ava’s father is planning, it won’t make waking her up impossible.

Kara drives Sid home in the Mustang. They get back to the house before me; the sleek red classic is parked ahead of me in the driveway. I sit in the warm cab of the Camaro after I pull in behind it, not wanting to go into the house yet. I just need a few more minutes to breathe. And digest—both the six pounds of food in my gut and the fact that I’m facing some kind of possible creepy spiritual jailbreak. After I’ve been sitting and staring at the license plate of the Mustang for a few minutes, my phone vibrates on the seat beside me.

A text from Kara.
You need to come inside. Now
.

I sigh and pull the keys from the ignition, then slide from the car. As I walk along the path to the back of the house, I sense myself being tugged by Sid’s shed, but I ignore the pull. There’s nothing good yanking on me from in there. I breathe past it and walk up the back steps, through the door, into the kitchen.

“Oh, man,” Jax greets me on his way out. “You’re so screwed.” He pats me on the shoulder as if he’s consoling me.

He actually seems genuinely concerned, which is unlike him, so I pause. “What’re you talking about?”

He gives me a sigh and a shake of his head, then says, “Don’t let the females get you down, bro,” as he goes out the back door. I get the feeling he’s making an escape.

“There you are,” Kara says, coming into the kitchen. She doesn’t look happy.

“What the heck is going on? What’s wrong with Jax?”

“Oh, he’s just worried I’m going to murder you.”

I study her, trying to figure out if she’s kidding. She’s definitely not in the same jolly mood she was in a little bit ago. “Because . . . ?”

“Because your other girlfriend is going to be living with us for a few weeks.”

I step back, thrown. “Rebecca?”

She gives me a look. “The fact that you knew exactly who I was talking about isn’t helping me feel better.”

“She’s staying
here
?” Not good. Worlds colliding.

“So you didn’t know?”

“No. No way.” Rebecca said she had a surprise for me when she texted about our coffee date—the coffee date I ditched her on yesterday.

“Well, she’s made herself at home in Holly’s room again. It’s like old times.” She gives me a stiff smile. I take a breath, processing the news. Kara must think the look on my face is panic because she adds, “I guess I can take Monday, Wednesday, Friday, if you’re worried about writing up a new make-out schedule.”

I laugh, despite the tension coming from her. She’s even cuter when she’s pissed. “You’re hilarious.” I reach out and pull her closer, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “My make-out schedule is all full up.” Her skin warms a little under my palm. I rub my thumb up and down her arm, trying to soothe her, trying to decide how annoyed or worried I need to be about Rebecca joining our house again.

Talk about bad timing.

“I really don’t want to be the crazy jealous girlfriend, Aidan,” Kara mumbles, sounding deflated.

A spark tingles in my chest at her words. “So you’re falling for me
and
I’m your boyfriend? This is moving pretty fast for me. I don’t know . . .”

She half-heartedly smacks me on the chest. “Don’t be cute.”

“Now you’re asking the impossible.”

I win a small giggle and a sigh that feels like relief. “
You’re
impossible.”

“True.”