Chapter 6
No Time For A Break
Gage takes a seat at the desk-like table in the room, while Kane comes to scoop up the food I spilled.
"What about her?" Kane asks as he trashes the spoiled goods.
"For starters, she's been all over the world killing and draining witches—immortal and mortal. She's gearing up for a fight. The night stalker council is now involved, and they want you to help them find her."
I huff out. We can't have one day—one frigging day—of peace.
"Worst day ever," I mumble, prompting Kane to sit beside me and wrap his arm around my waist.
"Our bond is severed. I can't find her. Speaking of which—how did you find us?"
Gage starts to speak, but I answer before he can. "Fucking cell phones," I gripe, wishing now I had removed the batteries from both. The second Kane spoke with Sierra, Gage knew exactly where we were.
"Dark user thing," Gage adds. "I told the night stalker council your bond was severed, but they still want your help, since you were her favorite."
Kane tenses, and my heart breaks for him. I can only imagine what being Castine's favorite entailed. I reach over, grab his hand, and then squeeze it in mine. He doesn't acknowledge the gesture. He seems to be lost in the past.
"Tell the night stalker council to kiss our asses. They're on their own. There wasn't anyone stepping in when she was just after us. They can go fuck themselves for all I care," I interject, sick of all the damn councils and their demands.
A small, ghost of a grin touches Kane's lips, letting me know I've done something right. Gage doesn't seem quite as impressed. I'm done with the fey councils expecting everyone to fight their battles. If Castine is stirring up a war, it's up to the councils to deal with her.
"These are innocent fey and mortals, Alyssa," Gage says, warily studying me. "Since when don't you give a damn?"
He looks to Kane as though he's tainted fruit that has poisoned my mind. I haven't stopped caring, I've just stopped—I don't know.
"It's not our problem until it's our problem again," I mutter dismissively.
"You sound more like a night stalker than a light witch right now," Gage growls, his murderous glare still casting daggers toward Kane.
"Because we're all so callous and cold?" Kane quips, accidentally making me feel like a bitch.
"I sound callous and cold?" I ask pitifully, bringing both of their eyes toward me.
Instant regret washes over Kane's face, but I speak before he can.
"I'm not cold. I don't want anyone innocent to die, but it's time we make the councils do what they were designed to. We're not strong enough to take on Castine, and that's what they expect. They say they need his help, but they'll leave him alone if he finds her. I'm not going to watch him die. I can't."
Gage looks away when Kane pulls me onto his lap, gently kissing my forehead as he does so. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," he murmurs softly.
"We need to get back to Alyssa's house and regroup, plan against an attack that will come when Castine is finished refueling," Gage grumbles. "We're going to have to face her again—one way or the other."
"We're going to my house," Kane murmurs, tensing. "Alyssa doesn't want to go back to her home."
Thanks to a psychotic spirit, a crazy human witch bitch, and a crafty night stalker.
"Where's your place?"
"You can just follow us," Kane says through a sigh, reluctantly standing while still holding me to him.
"I'll wait outside."
Gage vaporizes, rushing away. I'm sure this is hard for him, just as it was for Kane. I hate it, but what am I supposed to do? Never touch Kane because it's difficult for Gage? I didn't ask for all this confusion.
I wish I'd never involved myself with Gage. He saved me from my bond with Kane, and I should be grateful, but now I'm hurting him. I love Kane. I never loved the dark user who willingly used my vulnerability against me. He knew he'd extinguish my light if we got too close. How could he?
"You ready?" Kane asks, snapping me out of my sad reverie.
"Yeah. Let's go play nice with Amy and Gage."
He snorts derisively, shaking his head. "One day, it'll just be us. I swear."
"I can't wait."
Amy is all snarls and icy death-glares. I just ignore her, pretending she doesn't even exist. Sierra and Deke have been slaving away on the cages downstairs, preparing for the red moon that will be here tonight.
"How long until this cycle of red moons is over?" I ask when Kane comes to wrap his arms around me.
At least I'm wearing jeans and a T-shirt now. I feel a thousand times better in an outfit that doesn't beg to be noticed.
"Another month, maybe two. It's been a while since there was a cycle this big. We've still got five more ahead of us—at least."
Great. Five more nights of watching over Amy. Bitch.
"Slasher films and pie?" I ask, shrugging.
Kane smiles, nodding as he jogs backwards to pick up two movies and wave them around. The sun isn't far from setting, so I hope they have those cages ready.
"I need to go help Sierra and Deke," Amy growls, agitated with the way Kane has completely refused to acknowledge her existence.
"We need more pie," Zee chirps while walking out of the kitchen.
Kane bursts out laughing when Zee sets down two pie plates—two empty pie plates.
"You ate both of those?" I gasp.
"It's been too long since I've had the bite. Pie helps. I'll go get some more."
"I'll go," Kane chuckles out, motioning for me to join him.
I gladly accept the offer to get out of the house. Fortunately, Gage hasn't gotten here yet, which is great, considering dealing with Amy has already given me an ulcer. Stupid, fanged, she-devil, bitch, monst—
"You ready?" Kane asks, holding the car door open for me.
Hell, I managed to walk all the way out here without even noticing.
"Yeah."
Kane does his best to make me laugh all the way to town. If I'd never been brutally jarred into facing the fact he's a killer, I'd never have believed it.
"I'll grab the pies. You hang out," he murmurs, kissing my hand.
I cut the music off and enjoy the silence as he rushes into the store. It's so peaceful right now. As I gaze around at all the people oblivious to the real world—not realizing they're not on the top of the food chain—I notice a large woman and several children walking by.
I tilt my head, curious. The children are all so skinny—eyes sunken in, clothes hanging off of them. They look dirty, malnourished, and neglected—five of them. I open the door, ready to go blast that chubby bitch walking them into a house.
One child whimpers, and she slaps the child across the face, bringing my blood to a boil. I'll show her how to slap someone who deserves to be slapped.
I'm caught mid-stalk, hands on my waist, as Kane forces me to stand in place. I fight against him, furious that he's holding me back.
"They're fucking kids!" I growl.
"They're human, Alyssa. What are you going to do? Beat the hell out of her? You'll have to dust her memory. What good will that do? You'll get yourself into all kinds of trouble. I know a cop. Let me make a call. We have to handle human shit with human politics."
I glare at the house, memorizing everything about it. If the cop doesn't do something, I sure as hell will.
"Call him now."
Kane nods once, returning to the abandoned bags of pie he apparently dropped on the sidewalk. I cross my arms over my chest, but a brush of air finds my cheek, making me almost curse aloud.
"What?" I grumble, knowing damn well Gage is behind me.
"I need you to come with me to see the widows. They wish to know the details of how their fallen spidress died. They want to help us find the main puppet-master who helped the spirit and human witch."
"Widow help," I scoff, never moving my eyes from the house.
"She's not going without me," Kane says as he joins us.
"Did you call him?" I ask, realizing I'm so focused on this human that I've tuned out almost everything else.
"I did. He'll be by in a couple of days to start the process. He has to clear it through some channels first."
Gage tilts his head, but he doesn't question our conversation. "How are you going to leave Amy alone on a red moon night?" he asks, returning to the immortal problem at hand.
"I'm not leaving her alone. She has plenty of people there. Most everyone was already coming since we've got Thad's memorial to go to tomorrow. The coroner finally released the body, and his changer family has cremated his remains. We're going to the cemetery to bury his urn, putting him in the same place as his parents' urns," Kane says, bringing all that pain back to life.
Immortals have to be burned and buried once they are dead to pass through the correct planes—another part of our fucked-up world. We even have to keep their ashes inside a welded-shut urn.
"I have to take her to see the widows, Kane. Do you really need me to verse you on the outstanding rivalry between your species and theirs?"
Kane's jaw tenses and he cracks his neck to the side. I hope he's not worried about me being alone with Gage.
"It's fine, Kane. We need their help. A group of pissed-off widows could prove useful—as long as we're not the ones they're pissed at," I mutter to defuse the burning glare exchange.
I glance over my shoulder at the house once more, wishing I could go save those kids. Some humans are just as evil as all of our dark entities. The fey just have fangs as proof of a vicious side.
"If they want to help us, they'll eventually have to deal with my species," Kane snarls.
"Agreed. And I'll make them aware of that tonight," Gage says, shrugging, stifling his triumphant grin.
Kane murmurs something too low for me to hear, and then he jerks me to him, pressing a deep, devouring, showy kiss to my lips. My hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer, even though this is really just his way of pissing on me to claim his territory. Men, I scoff inwardly.
After his tongue leaves me desperate for more, he withdraws, showing he's as breathless as me.
"Hurry back and call me if anything happens," he murmurs softly, offering one last kiss, though this one is chaste.
"I will."
I walk away, feeling Kane's eyes on me as I make my way to Gage. His back is turned as he waits by his car—no doubt trying to avoid witnessing the kissing exhibition.
"Ready?" he asks as I approach, not turning to meet my eyes as he moves to the passenger side door.
"Not really, but do I ever have a choice these days?" I grumble, as he opens the door for me.
"You have choices—you just tend to make the wrong ones usually."
"I'm not—"
He shuts the door on my retort, smirking as I fume at him. As soon as he sits down beside me, I don't hold back.
"I'm not making the wrong choice. I blame you for this—all of this. You knew. You knew you could kill my light, but you came for me anyhow."
He sighs out as he cranks the car and begins speeding away. I look back just as Kane pulls away from the curb. I already regret not pushing harder for him to come, but the widows really do hate night stalkers. I'd be afraid they'd do something stupid if he showed up unannounced and unwelcome.
"They won't touch you, Alyssa," Gage says, not looking at me or acknowledging my last comment.
"I'm not worried about that. Witches and widows have never clashed."
"I didn't fucking do this!" he yells suddenly, shocking the hell out of me. I guess he decided he couldn't overlook my tart remark after all. "It wasn't my fault. You're not going dark because of me. You're not dark at all! It's him. He's toxic. It started with that stupid bond, and now it has gotten worse. I'm the one who's capable of saving you from yourself."
Oh, good grief. Why did I open this stupid door?
The steering wheel whines under his grip, and he loosens his hold in response. I'm not surprised to see that the steering wheel has been bent in certain places, making it looked warped now.
"Shit," he murmurs under his breath, assessing the damage he unintentionally caused.
"Feel better?" I ask, grinning, trying to lighten the mood.
An accidental smile quirks up on his lips, but he banishes it just as quickly. "A little," he mutters dryly.
"Are you going to be able to stomach seeing me with him? If not, then you should probably stay somewhere else."
He snorts derisively, shaking his head in disgust. "And leave you alone with three night stalkers, two lycans, and an incubus? I'll stomach it."
"Since when do you judge someone based on their fey classification?" I ask as he rounds the corner to a large estate.
A slow crawl of something odd attacks me, and I ignore the sweat forming on my brow as I take in Gage's profile. I hate being so drawn to him. When I'm with Kane, I barely feel anything at all for the dark user. When he's not here—I don't like the way I'm feeling right now.
Fortunately, the scenery around me helps to deter my unbidden emotions. The black, rod-iron gates draw my attention, giving me the creeps. There are silver skulls at the top of each rod. The driveway is long, dark, and covered by a heaping pile of trees that work hard to cut out the last glimmer of the sun as it sets to show the red moon mortal eyes can't see.
I look at the white moon that hides secrets from even me, knowing Gage is seeing something else entirely. As we start traveling under the veil of limbs and leaves, I lose sight of the moon, the sky—everything.
Gage cuts his lights on, illuminating the drive ahead, though it only adds to the skin-prickling allure. Of course, the numerous sticky webs decorating the trees don't exactly help. I cringe when I see silky hulls too big to hold anything less than a human. I've never seen a spidress balloon her prey. I never want to either.
It's going to be hard to work with someone who is actively killing humans, unlike Kane and his clan. I swallow hard, keeping my eyes concentrated on the numerous webbed deaths.
"It could be their mates," Gage says idly, noting my trembling gaze. "This is one of their homes. It's the one they chose to meet us at."
"They just leave Peter Parker out here to die after they've had his kid and fed off him?" I grumble, slumping down.
"They have a barrier that prevents true humans from entering. They're cautious of exposure."
I give him the most incredulous glare. "I was talking about the fact they kill their lover. I wasn't referring to them risking exposure."
He frowns, not meeting my gaze as he studies the dark path ahead.
"Sometimes, it's better to just get it over with," he mumbles, cutting me deep.
He stops the car before I can say anything, and I look around at all the tall trees towering over the brilliantly-white home. Cobwebs from actual normal spiders are here and there. It's not like they give a damn.
"Gage, I'm sor—"
"Don't, Alyssa. I'll find a way to prove it to you. Until then, do what you have to. I realize this was all tossed on your lap and you're not even immortal yet. Come on. The widows don't like to be kept waiting."
I sigh as I climb out, and a chill spreads over me as I stare at some of the closer silken body bags. Gross.
"If one speck of a web touches me, I'm kicking your ass," I murmur under my breath as he presses his palm against the small of my back to guide me up the porch.
I ignore the shiver of desire that slithers through my veins—it's unwelcome and unwanted. What's frigging wrong with me?
"Just stay close. This is a friendly visit," he whispers.
Friendly. I wish I could scoff out something witty about eight-legs, fangs, spinning-webs—but nothing clever comes to mind. I just want to get this over with and get back to Kane.
The door opens, held by one of the males the widows will devour later. He smiles, happily accepting his life—his fate.
"Celeste is waiting for you."
He smiles his beautiful grin, offering me a wink which prompts Gage to draw me in closer.
As we walk into the seemingly normal home, a deeper chill finds its way into my bones. I really hate this.
The walls are adorned with priceless paintings, making this seem like a royal dwelling as opposed to a dark haven. Looks are always deceiving with the creatures of our world. Their homes are no different.
"Wait here," Peter Parker says as he motions for us to head into a gallant living area.
He walks away, and Gage's grip loosens on me. I gauge my surroundings with a wary eye, not missing the small spiders creeping along the white walls of the otherwise pristine room.
"I don't understand why these guys willingly stay with the widows when they know they'll be killed later on," I whisper, careful not to let my voice be overheard.
"Because we don't all die," the same guy says as he enters the room, grinning as he stares at me. Apparently I didn't stay quiet enough. "Only the ones who offer themselves as sacrifice to the heads will die. Some perceive it as an honor."
"And you?" I boldly ask, watching his grin only grow.
"I'm not a sacrifice. I also don't bed widows. I'm more into witches."
Gage grumbles under his breath, holding me closer again. Spidey boy smirks, staring down Gage, possibly trying to rile him up. All spider fey enjoy exerting dominance on outsiders. Come to think of it, all fey men love exerting dominance.
A woman walks in, breaking up the silent stare-down. Her wicked smile cocks up when she eyes me.
"So you're the witch who killed the spirit. Impressive."
"Just as you requested," Gage says, speaking before I can. "Why exactly couldn't you just trust me?"
She snorts derisively, as if he just asked a rhetorical question.
"No offense, Gage, but I've never been dumb enough to trust a dark user who is also a part of the Somage," she snarls.
I swallow hard, watching her as she glides across the floor. Her purple-hazed eyes are in plain sight, her fangs are bared, and her lips and nails are jet black. I can almost smell the deadly venom in her breath.
She appraises me with her devilish smirk—measures me with her widow eyes. A black veil falls just above her lips, and obstructs the view just slightly, but those purple warnings are hard to miss even through the tightly woven lace. At last, she takes a seat beside Spiderman and breaks the awkward silence.
"Before she was murdered, Syndea evoked the Widow's Oak. She gave us a vision through her eyes. You're definitely not the girl who killed her."
"You fucking knew what happened?" Gage growls. "And yet you did nothing to appease the Were council?"
A sinister grin replaces her smirk, making the chill in the room almost painful. Gage tugs me to him when I shiver, offering me a taste of his immortal heat. Unfortunately, it stirs more of my inane emotions that I wish to forsake. I step away from him just enough to break contact in an effort to thwart off the feelings I have to deny.
"Where's the fun in that?" she quips, her demonic laughter following. Gage's hands burn with power, his orbs starting to form, and the spidress rolls hers. "Calm down. I didn't know for sure. I haven't seen her before. Now, let's discuss business."
Gage's orbs extinguish themselves, and he pulls me back to him, placing his arm around my back and his hand on my hip. Her grin quirks up to be broader, as she seems to delight in his protective motion.
As soon as the conversation turns to business, their voices fade into hollow echoes. All the sounds around me seem to be rattling around inside a drum. I feel dizzy and sick, as a wave of fever and chills rush over me in unison.
I feel sweat on my brow and a breath at my face, but I can't breathe in here. When my eyes begin to blur and distort images, I stagger, feeling arms around me, guiding me outside.
I rip free just as I feel the touch of grass beneath my feet, and I flop to the ground, heaving for air and clarity, only to strangle on confusion and a toxic pull. I reach for—I don't know what. Prayers flitter through my head, but I'm answered by only more pain before it all goes black.