Taken By Storm (27 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"Hello?" I can't feel my toes. I sit up on the bed, my entire body feeling numb.

"Hi, Ayala." I remember that voice. Deep and rich, deliberate.
 

It's been a while.

"Hi, Mason."
 

There's a creak on the bed beside me as Mira sits up, her eyes wide. She gets up and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. I wish she'd stayed. Fuck.

"I'm at your apartment, but you're not there."

I blink. Has it been that long since he's called? I guess it has. Even more, I guess it's been that long since anyone called him to tell him what's been happening.
 

The silence is stretching on, and I don't know what to say. "I don't live there anymore."

It's his turn to be silent.
 

I go on. "The Summit blackballed me a few weeks ago. I'm in Kentucky."

It suddenly processes what he's just said. He's in Nashville. Here. Well. A lot more here than he has been.

I almost want to laugh. He's been so out of the loop that where do I even start? Everyone's dying? The demons are after you? The Nashville Summit's a shambles?

"Can I come to where you are?" His question surprises me, and my heart sinks like a lead-dipped pig in a bog.

"Uh. Yeah. Do you have a way to get here? There isn't really any public transportation, and it's a long walk."

It's an hour in a car, so that's one way of putting it.
 

"I have a car."

Snazzy.

Apparently he's learned to drive. I give him directions. It sounds like there's wind on the other end of the line, and that must mean he's on my balcony, seven stories up. "Are you on my balcony?"

"Yes. But the blinds are down, so I can't see in. Where is all your stuff?"

This time a small, helpless laugh escapes me. "Gregor blew it up. It's a long story."
 

The mention of Gregor sends a cold sliver right into my heart.

"Mason, if you see Gregor or hear from him, do not talk to him. Run. Get away as fast as you can. Also, come straight here and don't stop anywhere. We've got food here. Carrick and the others have been hunting." I sound like a bad Monopoly card. "Watch out for demons out in the daytime, too."

He's quiet again. "It sounds like I've missed a lot."

"You definitely have."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." He hangs up.

Nana scoots around the floor, hopping over to my foot again. I scoop her up and put her on the bedspread. My heart is thudding against my ribs, and my face feels like it's been held to a furnace.
 

Mason was the surprise love I never thought I'd have. He saved my life, shared my home, fought side by side with me. We protected each other.
 

And then he left. He picked up and went to Egypt.

Now he's just…back?

Of course it's now. What other time would he possibly have chosen to show back up in my life?
 

I crawl toward my pillow, stick my face in it, and scream as loud as I can.
 

There's a clatter from the living room, then a low murmur.
 

A moment later, a knock sounds at the door. "Yo, Storme, are you being attacked by daywalking demons or are you just experiencing a moment of angst?"

"Angst!" I yell it into the pillow, but I'm pretty sure Mira understands me anyway.

She opens the door and comes in, shutting it behind her. "You scared the shit out of Evis and Jax."

"Evis is back?" I turn my head to the side. My face is wet, and I didn't even realize my eyes were leaking. I press them onto the pillow, hoping Mira doesn't notice.

"They got back a few minutes ago." She sits down beside me, lips in a straight line. "You okay?"

"Yes. No. Fuck, I don't know." I flop over onto my side, startling Nana. "Sorry, bun."
 

She hops to me and sits with her hip against my knee.

"He's coming here. He was on my balcony in Nashville."

Mira's hand on the bedspread gives a small jerk, then goes still. "He's here?"

Apparently she and I have the same definition of here. "Yeah. He's on his way. I told him to come straight here, avoid Gregor at all costs, and to watch out for demons."

"Why is he back?"

"I have as much idea as you do." I want to scream into the pillow again, but I resist. "World possibly ending? Check. Hellkin coming out to enjoy the cloudy daylight world? Check. I think having my ex show up out of nowhere completes this trifecta of terribleness."

"I have to agree with you there." Her voice sounds flat.
 

I peer at her. "You okay?"

"Yep. Just…" she waves her hand in the air. "Everything. All of it."

Five minutes ago we were discussing a tiny spark of a hope for after. I feel like we just got dragged backward. That's what I get for hoping.

"I'm going to run out for a while. Get some fresh air and some groceries. Maybe an extra fridge. If the hells-holes are opening twenty-four/seven, it's probably good to stock up. I'll be back in a few hours." Mira reaches out and gives my shoulder an awkward pat.
 

"Be careful," I say. "Maybe Carrick should come with you?"

"Nah. I'll be fine. I might call Wane in the car anyway. Don't want to bore him."

Bewildered, I watch her leave.
 

Mason arrives a little over an hour later in a small, not too beaten up Honda. He parks next to my car. He didn't ping the wards, which I guess means an open invitation and being in possession of the address means smooth sailing. Or driving.

I'm not prepared for the sight of him.

He seems taller than I remembered. His hair is in dark waves, and his indigo eyes are visible even from the walkway outside. I watch him approach from the window, Carrick behind me.

Carrick puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "It's going to be okay."

"Now you lie to me," I mutter.

Evis is watching the whole thing with extreme curiosity. He heard all about Mason from Saturn and the others, and I told him the rest on our long drive out to Seattle and back. I think he's afraid Mason won't like him, and I forgot to tell him that in most norm cultures, it should be the other way around. Except it doesn't matter what either of them think of each other in that context — Mason and I are ex.

He knocks on the door, and I open it.

If I wasn't prepared to see him, he's definitely not prepared to see me. He stares, mouth agape. It takes me a minute to figure out why that'd be the case.
 

It's possible I forgot to mention my eyes.

I motion for him to come in.

He looks almost just like I last saw him, dark rinse jeans and a blue t-shirt. His eyes scan over the small cabin, and Jax, Evis, and Carrick all watch him as if waiting to see what he'll do.

I don't think Mason was around for the formation of shade greetings, so he looks surprised when Evis comes up and touches his shoulder. When Jax clambers his still-healing self off the couch and does the same, Mason looks to me for an explanation.

"They're saying you're safe here. You should return it."

Jax looks at me, face impassive. I raise my eyebrows at him and shrug.
 

Mason touches both of them on the shoulders, and Carrick saunters by me, every inch in his old arrogance. He touches Mason's shoulder with a flourish, and Mason returns it, looking as confused as if we'd all started speaking Pig Latin.

Carrick smirks at me on his way back to the kitchen. Brat.

"Uh, Mason, that's Carrick in the kitchen. I don't think you met him. And Jax, who you might know. And this is my brother, Evis."

Mason actually jumps. "Brother?"

This is going to be a very long day.

It takes two hours to fully get Mason caught up, and he looks like he's been run over by a herd of elephants by the time I'm done talking.

At the end, he doesn't say anything for a full five minutes. I sit there listening to the pew-pew-pew of whatever Jax is playing.

"Whatever I can do to help, just let me know," Mason says finally.

I guess that qualifies as taking this all very well.

"The big thing we're trying to do right now is find Gregor," I say. "I think he's the head of the serpent that's biting all of us in the ass with these new shades popping up all over the country."

"I might be able to help with that," says Mason. "I spent some time at the original Summit."

"You what?" I can't help gaping at him, and Carrick's doing the same. "What, were you learning history, magic? They let you in?"

"They're a little more openminded, I think." Mason looks at Carrick, who nods.

"You've been there too?" I don't know why, but it strikes me as one hundred percent unfair that we Mediators are brought up with the undeniable knowledge that we can't go more than a hundred miles or so in any direction, and here the original Summit is taking in shades, norms, whoever the fuck. My friend Alice got shipped out there after she was misled into signing her life away to a witch who told her she'd see her best friend again if she let a baby shade explode out of her.
 

Okay, so Alice isn't always the brightest, but her heart's in the right place.

"How exactly do you think this would help you find Gregor?"
 

"The Summit here should have his DNA on file. They keep it for everyone. Most tracking spells can be foiled by simple means—"
like a haircut and a dunk in Puget Sound
, "— but the original Summit is able to dowse for anyone's location."

"Dowse." Images of old grizzled men and women skulking about the Old West with forked sticks spring to mind. "You're going to look for Gregor with a stick?"

Mason looks at me sideways. "Not a stick. It doesn't need any…props."

If this is a simple sort of spell we could have done all along, I'm going to turn what's left of that archery target to mulch and set it on fire.

Turns out, it's not. The list of things Mason needs is as long as my leg. When he gets to
a drop of blood from someone the target has wronged
, everyone in the room except him guffaws loudly enough to make him jump again.
 

When he gives me a questioning look, I roll my eyes. "You'd be hard pressed these days to find someone in whom Gregor Gaskin hasn't inspired homicidal tendencies."

That earns me a small smile.
 

Half of the things on the list, like a nomi stone and a calve's udder, I have no idea where to find. Mason sounds confident, though, so if he wants to take on the project and it gives us a way to roast Gregor's nuts over an open fire by Yule, I'll be a happy camper.

Mira comes back while Mason and Carrick are going over everything we need. She's met Mason before, and she gives him the customary shoulder touch, which he now returns without question.

She listens to what we're doing, nods, then vanishes into the bedroom.

She even forgot to put away the groceries. I get up from the table to do it.

My gods damned phone vibrates just as I finish.
 

At this point, no part of me believes there can be good news on the other end.
 

It's a text from Alamea.
Lead on Gregor in your area. Sketchy, but needs checked out.

Well, what do you know? It's my lucky day.