Dead to Rights (Supernatural Security Force Book 4) Page 5

  He batted his lashes in mock confusion. “You don’t enjoy family dinners with the guy who used your dad’s funeral to make a play for your mom?”

  “You know, when you say it like that, you reignite old rage I’ve worked hard to smother.”

  He smiled sweetly. “I know.”

  I glared at him then glanced around at the mess. “I guess I should figure something out. Hire a cleaning service or something.”

  I thought of Harvey and wondered if I could use my newfound detective status to call in a favor. Technically, the mess had been created by a demon. Except that it had also happened while I’d still technically been a fugitive.

  “You might consider finding a new place,” Milo said. “If demons have figured out where you live, there might be more where that came from.”

  “In hindsight, I have a feeling it was sent by Selaphiel. But you’re right. With Raguel’s little creations popping up, I can’t risk it.”

  “And the protestors.”

  I looked up, confused. “What about them?”

  “They saw you shift, Gem. They know what you are. And they aren’t going to keep it a secret. Not with everything going on with the council.”

  I scoffed. “I’ve faced off with Nephilim and greater demons. I think I can handle a few middle-aged supes with pitchforks.”

  But even as I said it, I knew better.

  My parents had ingrained in me from childhood to keep my true abilities a secret. Not just from the council but from everyone. For years, very few people knew what I could do. All of a sudden, that list seemed to be growing at an alarming rate.

  Starla.

  The protestors.

  Raguel.

  I swallowed hard, and a lump of worry settled in my gut.

  “They see you as a threat,” Milo said quietly, reading my expression. “And anything threatening is at risk right now. You saw how they acted back there. Their fear and frustration have made them volatile, Gem. You need to protect yourself.”

  “I know,” I said, resigned. More hiding. Why did I expect anything else? “Fine, I’ll find somewhere else to stay for now.”

  I looked around. Honestly, that sounded easier than actually cleaning up this place.

  “In the meantime, we should check on Tony. Those scorpions were blue, and I know they didn’t start out as either one of those things.”

  “You think Tony’s not done turning?”

  “Who fucking knows anymore, but I’m not discounting anything. And if he’s coherent, maybe we can ask him about them. See if he saw anything while he was in that clinic. Knowing their names and identities would help us alert the families who are probably worried sick.”

  “And,” Milo’s lips twitched, “maybe we can see if a certain Nephilim has an extra room for you. Or maybe just extra room on his mattress.”

  “I will add your dead body to this mess if you say anything like that while we’re there.”

  “Whoa.” He threw up his hands. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

  “Well, stop thinking.”

  His lips curved. “I could say the same to you.” He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “At some point, you just have to get out of your head and follow your heart, G.”

  I didn’t answer before stalking to the bedroom. It wasn’t quite as destroyed as the rest of the house, and I managed to find a bag and stuff some extra clothes and shampoo inside.

  “Ready?” I asked when I was finished.

  Milo looked up from where he’d been eyeing a sticky substance coating my coffee table.

  “On one condition,” he said as we headed for the door. “We take public transport. And griffin wings don’t count.”

  “Deal.”

  Twenty minutes later, I climbed out of the Uber and stood alongside Milo, looking up at Adrik’s decrepit townhouse. Not many people were out, and the ones who were definitely gave off shady vibes. But for once, I didn’t bother with checking my surroundings in this neighborhood. Thankfully, Milo seemed aware enough for both of us because all I could muster was a racing heart and clammy palms for the Nephilim I knew waited inside those walls. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Adrik since our showdown with his batshit crazy and murderous sister, Selaphiel. Or, more importantly, since the moment I’d watched Jax rip Adrik’s throat to nothing more than a gaping hole that had impossibly, miraculously knitted itself back together again. That had been four days ago.

  Four uncertain, silent days.

  I’d expected a call.

  Or maybe even a surprise visit.

  Adrik liked to just pop up sometimes.

  But nothing.

  And I’d been a big, fat coward and kept my distance, too.

  Now, looking at the house, I wondered if he’d taken my silence for some sort of message. Adrik was an all-powerful Nephilim, but he was broody as hell and probably assumed everyone else was just as grumpy as him. The fact that he’d chosen a place like this as a “safe” house spoke volumes for the kind of creature he was. Jax, on the other hand, preferred luxury and iron gates. Not that I was comparing what it would be like to stay with either one of them.

  Except, now I was picturing the last time I’d been here.

  Alone with Adrik in his tiny bedroom.

  On that mattress where he’d patched up my wounds and then his bedside manner had extended to my tongue and—

  “You good?”

  Milo’s voice cut through the steamy daydream like ice water on a daytime soap opera.

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat, pretending I hadn’t just been picturing Adrik and me in some kind of B-movie sexcapade.

  Milo made a sound of disbelief.

  I shot him a dark look then arranged my features to something hopefully neutral.

  “We’re here to check on Tony,” I added, heading for the front door. “That’s it.”

  “Sure thing.”

  As we approached the door, I let my current disguise—a nearly exact replica of Martha Stewart—fall away so that I looked like me again.

  Then, I knocked, which I realized belatedly had probably already made this extra weird considering I’d never stopped to knock before.

  Milo caught my eye again and simply arched a brow.

  I looked away.

  The door opened, and I straightened, bracing myself for a tall, dark, and delicious view.

  But Adrik wasn’t who greeted me.

  “Fiona,” I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “You’re answering the door now.”

  “Yeah, sorry, Adrik’s out, but I sensed it was you out here, so I came down.” She stood back and waved us in. “Come inside.”

  Milo and I filed into the crumbling foyer that could have been straight out of a horror film or just the “before” version of an episode of Property Brothers.

  “Adrik should be back soon,” she said, closing the door behind us.

  “We don’t care,” I blurted, which earned me a look of uncertainty from Fiona and a chuckle from Milo.

  “She means we’re here to see you,” Milo put in. “And check on Tony. How is he?”

  “Ah. Tony’s stable,” she said. “Come see for yourself.”

  We followed her upstairs, and I tried not to notice that with every inhale, I caught more of the scent of the Nephilim who lived here. Or that it was doing things to my insides that were not appropriate to acknowledge in front of my current company.

  Stupid, delicious Nephilim.

  Stupid sex-deprived lady parts.

  Fiona led the way into Tony’s room, but I stopped in the doorway, taking in all of the changes since I’d been here last week. And not just the new position of the bed where Tony currently slept like a Smurfy version of Sleeping Beauty. Or Beast. The décor, if you could call it that, had taken a seriously dark turn.

  “What the hell happened in here?” Milo asked from where he’d gone still beside me.

  “It looks worse than it is,” Fiona said, but that earned her a “you’re crazy” look from me and Milo both.

  “This room looks like crazy met psycho and the two of them had a paint-and-sip party,” Milo said.

  Fiona winced and looked at me.

  “He’s not wrong,” I admitted, glancing at the strange black markings that nearly covered three of the four walls. Some of the designs looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place them, and I had no idea what would drive Tony to make them. Or where he’d gotten a Sharpie capable of such stark artwork.

  Some of them, though, were names. Albeit in terrible handwriting but still. I tried reading some, but they weren’t familiar.

  “Yeah, okay, it’s sort of weird,” Fiona admitted on a heavy exhale.

  Milo snorted at that. “Um, understatement,” he muttered, but Fiona ignored him.

  She sank into the chair someone had dragged in and left beside Tony’s bed. From the looks of things, Fiona was spending a good amount of time in that chair.

  “I honestly don’t know what it means,” she admitted. “I came in yesterday morning, and it was already like this.”

  “Did you ask him about it?” I asked.

  “He can’t remember,” she said sadly. “When he’s coherent, he’s just…Tony.”

  “And when he’s not coherent?” Milo asked.

  I’d already met that version. I knew firsthand it was not the Tony I knew.

  Her eyes welled as she whispered, “I don’t know. But his mind clears less and less lately. I’m worried. Maybe he’s going to get worse before he gets better? I have a couple more spells I can try.”

  Something about the hope still shining in her bright eyes or maybe the naivete of her expression made it impossible to go along with this. Especially after being faced with those blue scorpions earlier.

 
“Fiona, he’s not getting better,” I said as gently as I could.

  She blinked, and her sadness turned to a scowl. “How do you know that?” she demanded, her voice low, probably out of courtesy for Tony’s nap. From the looks of his still form and silent breaths, I wasn’t convinced he could be woken. “You’re never around. And you haven’t done a single thing to help him since he got here.”

  Her voice turned harsh, and I blinked at the unexpected vehemence.

  “Fiona, I—”

  “You’re so absorbed in your own little problems that you haven’t even spent any real time with him. So I don’t think that qualifies you to tell me anything.”

  “Whoa,” Milo began, but I sighed.

  “You’re right,” I told her. “But I have seen what the next stage of this looks like,” I said, nodding at Tony.

  Fiona didn’t answer, and I could tell she didn’t want to hear it.

  “It’s not pretty,” I added. “Full-blown demons. No humanity or consciousness. Only the desire to kill.”

  “Gem,” Milo warned. “Maybe not now.”

  “I don’t care,” Fiona said stubbornly. “I’m not leaving him. Not over some skin condition and a temper. When have you ever stuck with anyone or anything? You always leave when it gets hard.”

  I frowned.

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked. “Something you need to get off your chest?”

  “No. Nothing.” Fiona looked away, but something in her expression seemed unwilling to soften. Still, by the time she looked back at me, her anger was gone, and in its place was the meekness I’d come to know. “I guess I’m just stressed about all this.”

  “Understandable,” Milo said, clearly trying to smooth things over.

  “Is Wolfrick around?” I asked, my gut still pinging over the way she’d just gone from hot to cool so easily.

  Fiona nodded. “In his room.”

  “I’ll wait here,” Milo assured me.

  I nodded and walked out and down the short hall to the next bedroom. After a quick knock, Wolfrick answered. His wolfish form towered over mine, but any fear I might have felt vanished when his large lips peeled back in a happy grin.

  “Friend!”

  He grabbed me and pulled me into a hug that lifted me clear off my feet.

  I grunted then gasped as all of the air was pressed out of my lungs.

  “Wolfrick,” I mumbled. “Air…Breathe.”

  “Ah.”

  He set me on my feet and stepped back, still grinning in an impressive show of teeth. I laughed, fully enjoying the sight of a terrifying demon looking like such a goofball.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I told him.

  “You gone.”

  “Yeah.” I ran a hand over my hair, hoping a lupine demon couldn’t pick up on the kind of awkwardness I was putting out. “I had some stuff to do.” I cleared my throat. “How’s our patient next door?”

  His smile vanished.

  He darted a glance at the door and shook his head.

  I shut the door and then looked up at him.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Not good,” he said.

  “Tony? Yeah, I saw his mural.”

  “No.” He flashed his teeth and not in a friendly way. “Witch.”

  “Fiona?” I frowned. “Yeah, she’s a witch. What about her?”

  He shook his head.

  I waited, but he didn’t say anything else.

  “Wolfrick, you can tell me. Did Fiona say something to you? Was she rude?”

  I appreciated Fiona’s devotion to Tony, and her babysitting skills meant Wolfrick wasn’t trapped watching Tony twenty-four-seven, but if she’d been mean to my demon friend, I’d have to set her straight.

  But Wolfrick shook his head.

  I reached for his arm. “You can tell me, whatever it is.”

  But he turned away and shook his head. “I sad.”

  “Sad?” I frowned. “You don’t like it here?”

  And why should he? All he ever did was sit inside this house and play babysitter to a blue barbarian.

  “Home,” he said.

  I sighed. “Yes, you miss your home. I understand, and you know what? I’m going to get you back there.”

  His eyes lit up. “Yes?”

  Guilt tugged at me for the hope that sprang to his eyes.

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “You’ve done so much for me; it’s the least I can do for you.”

  “Home!” He grabbed me, enveloping me in a hug that, just like earlier, squeezed all of the air from my lungs.

  “Rick,” I gasped, and he set me down again.

  “Home,” he repeated, lit up and clearly excited.

  “Soon,” I promised him. “First, I need to find—”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  A legit half-orgasm shuddered through me at the sound of the voice coming from behind me. I turned, trying to steel my damned vagina so she wouldn’t embarrass me, but it was no use.

  Adrik stood in the doorway—which I hadn’t even heard open—and my common sense deserted me, taking my self-respect right along with it.

  I couldn’t talk.

  Hell, I couldn’t breathe.

  Even the blood in my veins had decided to pump to a different rhythm. Adrik’s rhythm. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. Then, the pulse in his throat.

  He was alive.

  Breathing.

  And staring heatedly at me.

  Chapter Five

  The room spun. I tried to recall what Adrik had just said. But the way he was looking at me—all death-sex and intense—made it hard to think. At least, I knew he hadn’t changed his mind about his attraction.

  “What?” I finally managed to croak out.

  Rather than answer, he stalked up to me. I held my breath, completely willing to faint on command if it meant I ended up back on that mattress across the hall.

  I was so far past any dignity.

  A girl reached a certain point, and after that, all that mattered was the happy ending.

  But instead of grabbing my ass or my mouth, he grabbed my arm and held it up, frowning at the wound the pincer had left earlier.

  “You’re bleeding,” he said again, and I realized that was the thing I’d yet to respond to. It was also the reason he was touching me.

  Not for orgasms.

  For lectures.

  Before I could respond, he lifted the wound higher and sniffed it. “I smell demon poison.”

  His expression became an accusation.

  And I wasn’t sure why, but I felt the need to defend.

  “Well, I didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  For some reason, that didn’t seem to help.

  “You were attacked.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I found myself nodding.

  Dear Lord, coherence would be nice right about now.

  “Come with me,” he said and led the way out of Wolfrick’s room.

  I didn’t even glance backward as I obeyed.

  When he led us into his bedroom across the hall, I purposely stared at the desk to keep from looking at the bed in the corner.

  Mistake.

  The desk looked like way more fun anyway.

  If I were naked and he were—

  “Come here.”

  My feet moved without a single command from my brain. Fine. Whatever. My feet belonged to Adrik now. I didn’t care. I was more concerned with other parts that wanted to belong to him.

  Closing the distance, I stopped in front of him, and he peeled open a First Aid kit then began cleaning my wound. The burn from the antiseptic wipe was like smelling salts for my brain. Suddenly, I could think straight again.

  “I’m not poisoned,” I said, watching his hands work.

  I could feel him glance at me questioningly so I added, “I kept a single dose of antivenom in my apartment. Or rather, my dad did. I always thought he was just being paranoid, but it’s a good thing he was because I’d have never made it to the SSF clinic in time anyway.”

  Adrik was quiet for a moment.

  Finally, he said, “I’ll get you a refill. You need to keep it on you from now on.”

  Then he was silent again.

  “You didn’t call.”

  “Neither did you.”

  Touché.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re back on the council?”

  His eye twitched. The only show of surprise he offered.

  “I haven’t had time.”