VEE

Syv's battered Jeep is parked outside the house, an uncomfortable reminder nobody else here has a car. Ewan lost his shit about his bike stuck in Scotland and Joss wasn't amused that this was on Ewan’s priority list. Joss is right, Ewan’s bike is the least of our current problems.

Xander and Heath are on their way back but will be hours yet. I watch through the lounge window as Syv stands with Spot, now leashed by rope. Ewan and her continue an argument that started in the car about what to do with him. I tiptoe to watch as Syv stomps away with her new pet in tow.

Joss wanders in with an amused smile.

"Aren't you worried? The dog attacked you," I ask.

"A little. Ewan's telling her to put him in the old barn."

"Good thing nobody's cars are parked in there." Xander in particular likes to keep his Aston under cover, and the barn makes a makeshift garage. I doubt he'd like it chewed or clawed up by a demonic dog.

"Yeah." Joss cups my cheek. "How are you feeling after our surprise journey and encounter?"

I smile at Joss's attempts to make light of everything again. "We have a lot to chat to Heath and Xander about when they get home."

"That'll take another three hours, apparently."

The front door slams and the windows shake before Syv appears in the lounge. She strips off her green jacket and dumps it on the sofa. Beneath, she wears a black singlet with a large blue stone on a necklace, hanging between her full breasts. She drags her fingers through her hair, pulling it out of her face, and a tattoo across her wrist shows itself. A black symbol, intricate and hard to make out at a distance.

"I locked Spot in the barn. Now I need a drink." She strides past us into the kitchen, and cupboard doors bang open and closed until the chink of glass can be heard. She reappears with a bottle and four glasses. "Here. Something for the shock?"

"It's 4 p.m., Syv," says Joss.

"Who gives a fuck?" She thrusts a glass at him and sloshes in whiskey. "Vee?"

"Uh." My protest is silenced as she pours and passes me a drink too.

"Yeah." Ewan strides into the kitchen and holds out a hand. "I need one."

Drinks distributed, Syv pulls herself onto the kitchen counter and sits, sipping as she watches the three of us.

"Get me up to speed then. I've been hunting for this artefact you're all keen to find. Xander told me things are more complicated now but didn’t elaborate." She slurps. "Man, he was in a bad mood. What's with this Chaos thing?"

Joss makes a derisive sound. "'Chaos thing'. You don't know how bad this is."

"Enlighten me." Syv pours herself another drink.

We spend the next half hour filling Syv in with all the details about what's happening, and the events of the last twenty-four hours. Her face switches between surprise and shock before she pulls her neutral expression back on.

I don't miss that she drinks more quickly as the story continues, her pink cheeks and troubled look growing as her name is mentioned.

"I guess I'd better find this artefact you need and quickly," she says eventually. "Thanks for sending a god after me."

"We didn’t send him. If Seth has someone following you, I think he’s confident you’ll find the object more easily than anyone else. Do you think you can?"

Syv smiles proudly, then drains her glass. "If I walk into a museum or antique store, every magic item attracts me. Do you know how many types are out there? Fae. Druidic. Elemental. Demonic. A shitload. I think I know what I’m looking for now, but it’s still tricky."

"Maybe your new pet can help you," suggests Ewan with snark. "He could sniff something out."

"Ah, who knows. I bet he has some special skills," she replies.

"Yeah, like the ability to rip people to shreds in seconds."

"Don't worry your pretty face, Ewan. I’ll protect you."

He scowls.

"One thing’s for sure, I’m hanging ‘round you guys for protection." She hops down and wanders back into the lounge, calling, "Want to see my new weapons?"

I watch her go. All females I've met since my arrival in this life haven't been friendly. Syv is non-committal towards me, but that beats Portia's rudeness and Breanna's quiet suspicion.

Syv walks back in carrying two thin-bladed daggers, gripping them by the ornately carved handles. The blades catch the kitchen light and dazzle, and I'm pleased they're bloodstain-free.

Syv twirls one in her hands before setting it on the table. "My weapons are prettier than yours, boys. Still using bowie knives?" Syv taps her palm across her open mouth, faking a yawn. She winks at me and I smile at her teasing. "Here, what do you think of mine?"

I take the proffered dagger and weigh it in my hand. It's lighter, and she's correct, it's prettier, the blade thinner and sharper than the ones the guys give me.

What do I say? I've no clue how to discuss the merits of instruments of death. "Nice."

She cups a hand around her mouth so the guys can't hear her next word to me. "Fae."

"Oh. Is that a good idea?" Is this what Portia was talking about when she accused Syv of stealing something important?

"Nah. Ten a penny. You can find them in antique shops all over. Col wants them all; he's not happy about fae items strewn across the world. That's most of what I collect for him."

Ewan takes the dagger and places it on the table. "As interesting as your life is, we've more important things to deal with than your shady business dealings and unimpressive weapons."

Syv cocks a brow. "Gonna show me your weapon then, Ewan? Is that impressive?"

I laugh as Joss groans at her descent into childish laughter. Ewan makes an exasperated noise and picks up his glass. "Joss. I want to research Chaos, demonic dogs, and how to shut up cheeky mercenaries."

Syv smirks and flicks him on the nose. "You know I'll always help you. I owe you. Well, Xander, anyway."

My ears prick up. I've heard a few references to Xander and Syv, and the possibility they may've been intimate had niggled, but this sounds like something different.

Ewan looks to me. "Are you okay, Vee? We can stay with you and talk about what happened?"

I shake my head. "I'd rather wait until Xander and Heath get home. I'm kind of okay."

"Kind of?"

I scrunch my face up. "Kind of. Don't ask me questions." Joss and Ewan exchange troubled glances and I reach out to touch Joss’s arm, who's closer. "Like Syv, I need a drink."

Is Joss going to push this? He chews on his lip, then nods. "Okay, keep Syv company," says Joss.

Syv watches them go and shakes her head. "They mean stay with me and make sure I don't steal anything."

I nod, because I've no idea what to say. She wouldn't steal from the Horsemen. Would she?

I'm still processing what happened to me and why. The meeting where I was told I'm a supernatural nuclear bomb. The teleporting. Seth. Closing a portal. It's all too much for my brain to deal with at once.

The teleportation—or whatever it was—didn't hurt or scare me, but I knew the portal was close by before the guys told me. Am I linked to the portals somehow? Or Seth? If I'd been close enough, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself attacking him. I barely have any recollection of closing the portal or how I did; it was an instinctive response as if I was standing back and watching myself.

No, my biggest fear is how suddenly everything happened and how I had no control.

Syv slaps both palms on the table and squints at the now-empty bottle. "I hope they have more."

"Their house is always stocked with alcohol." I point at the top cupboard.

When Syv places shot glasses and a half bottle of tequila in front of me, I weigh up what to do. Despite the amount I've drank, I don't feel as intoxicated as I may've done before. Looks like Syv can hold her liquor well too.

Syv spots my hesitation as she hovers the bottle above a small glass. "I don't often hang out with people. I want to have some fun."

"What about Abel?" I ask.

She purses her lips as she swaps to pouring into the second glass. "We don't spend much time together. We're a long-distance friends with benefits. He's in the States a lot."

I suck my lips together, unsure if I should say the next words. My mind flashes back to the last time I saw her other acquaintance, Taron.

Y'know. The time I killed him.

She grimaces as she takes a shot. "I don't get attached. It gets messy, and I'm too busy."

"I'm sorry about what happened to Taron, though. I know he was your friend."

"Occupational hazard—that's the cliché term, right?"

"I guess..." I stare down at the shot glass filled with clear liquid.

"You're going to ask me why I do all this, aren't you?" She taps her fingers on the table. "The usual. Money. No education past high school, no skills apart from bartending or waitressing." She grimaces. "Laying out punters who grope my arse doesn’t offer job security. Using my unique skills? Profitable, and maybe one day I'll find out more about myself. A journey of self-discovery!" She ends her little speech by flourishing her hands in the air.

"Because you're half-demon?" Man, I'm bold after a few drinks. This girl has sharp knives and a temper to match her hair, I'll bet.

"And half kickass awesomeness." She chuckles, but with every word, I pick up something else. The alcohol pulls away some barriers she may not realise are coming down. She's lost and unsure. Desperate for answers.

I know the feeling.

"I'm sure you are. How long have you known the Horsemen?"

She nods at my glass. "Drink."

I obey, and the fiery liquid burns my throat. I thought whiskey was bad, but this? Ugh.

"You want to know what about Xander and if we have a past, don't you? I’ve seen the look on your face when I mention him."

"Yes." I place a hand over my mouth. Go me and my truth-telling.

She laughs. "Don't worry, I haven't screwed him if that's what worries you. That arrogant ass isn't my type, and the Horsemen were never fans of my activities. Anyway, I was in a difficult situation once. Xander was there and helped me out of it. We called a truce, and I agreed to help him when needed." She punctuates her staccato story with a long drink. "So yeah. That."

"Must've been bad if you still owe him."

Her lips thin. "Years ago. Forgotten about. I lived."

She clamps up. I could’ve guessed she’s somebody who doesn’t welcome questions.

"How about you, Vee? I hear stories about you, and I'm curious. I know the guys have no clue where they came from, and you don't either, but who's the real Vee? You know, the person behind Truth."

I focus on drinking, afraid because I ask myself that question too much. "The Fifth, apparently."

"With four hot guys smitten by you. I'm not into the whole protective male thing, but it's gotta boost a girl's ego."

I can't stop the grin on my less-than-sober face. "It does. Sometimes more than others, but it's partly why I'm here to unite us against..." The dark reality sneaks into our relaxing afternoon.

"Chaos?" Syv interrupts. "Tell me about him. Man, that sneaky bastard had me fooled. All of us."

"Perks of being a god, I guess."

Syv spins the dagger around on the table as she listens, face impassive. "I think you're doing the right thing, working with Ripley. He's correct—if we don’t ally, then we all end up dead."

"I don't think we have a choice. But it doesn't mean anybody will trust him."

"I don't think that's necessary; you can all keep separate. Keep your secrets."

I drink. "The guys are worried Ripley will open a portal to let his leader through."

"That'd be dumb. If Seth wants to open them all, then Ripley opening one would give him a head start. Besides, if you're uh...attracted to portals when Seth tampers with them, Ripley won't have much chance." She taps her dagger against her chin. "Maybe that's why the Order wanted to kill you before the Horsemen found you. They knew you'd stop the portals opening and end their plans."

Hearing the opinion of someone outside of our group, apart from Seth's lies, is weird but welcome. How much does Syv know about how the guys operate? I get a sense she attempts neutrality with every client, or potential client, but that must be tricky and involve double-crossing at some point.

She catches my expression. "But, I hear you're too strong for anybody to touch you now. You must be, if you're going to take down a god."

I gulp the mouthful of tequila and stare back, eyes watering. "Excuse me?"

"Personally, I don't think you're here to help Seth, so it must be your role to take him down."

Her stated opinion shouldn't be a surprise, it's what's been discussed, but I also don't want this to be the truth.

"But we'll know for sure once we've decoded this book and found out what the prophecy is."

This time I almost choke. "Prophecy?"

Syv waves a dismissive hand. "Well, there's always a prophecy, isn't there?"

"Can we talk about something else, please?" I ask and pour the shots this time. "Tell me a story, I bet you have plenty."

Syv leans back in her chair and pulls hair from her face. "Oh yeah, lots of stories. Want to hear the one about my weekend with a vampire rock star?"

I blink rapidly. "There's a vampire rock star? Who?"

Her mouth tips into a sly smile. "That's my secret. You want to hear?"

I scratch my nose. "Does it have a happy ending? I don't want to hear about anybody dying."

Syv leans forward, her blue stone pendant touching the table as she does, and whispers. "A very happy beginning, middle, and ending."

Omigod, is she about to share her sexual conquests with me? At my expression, Syv barks a laugh. "Nah, he wanted me to find him something magical, of course. We just had some fun in the process."

Syv relays her story with enthusiastic hand gestures and whispers, stopping herself mentioning his band or name a couple of times. A happy glow spreads through, as I feel strangely relaxed by a chat with a friend. Well, the closest to a female friend I've found so far.

Fuzziness in the room joins the warm glow inside. I don't think I've ever drunk this much and managed to stay upright. Old Vee would be slumped asleep on the table - or vomiting - by now.

Halfway through Syv’s story, the front door bangs open and closed, and I hear voices in the lounge. I'm torn between politely letting Syv finish her tale and rushing through to see Heath and Xander. I strain to hear their conversation as they talk to Ewan and Joss.

"So, which one?" asks Syv.

Nobody appears, and the guys’ conversation continues, so I look away from the doorway back to Syv, who seems oblivious to the fact I've missed the last part of her story. I have no idea what she's asking me, but I'd seem rude if she knew I wasn't listening.

I attempt an answer. "Uh. Who? Um... I don't know."

"One of them must be." Syv's amused smile reaches her flushed cheeks. "Heath? Wasn't he the guy you wanted before you met the others? Did you and him get it on before?" I look back, blankly. "Ooh...Ewan! There's a tension ready to be unleashed there. Man, I bet he's good."

My cheeks flare as I join the dots. Is Syv asking me what I think she is? Which guy’s the best between the sheets? Or against the wall? Or wherever. "Uh," I repeat, dumbstruck.

"No? Hmm. Joss? I guess with the empath thing he'd be very in tune with what works for you." I open my mouth to tell Syv to keep her voice down, but she interrupts. "C’mon, who’s the best?"

"Sounds like I walked in on an interesting conversation." Xander leans against the kitchen door frame, arms crossed. "What about me?" 

Syv sinks back in her chair with a wide smile. "Hey, Xan."

Omigod how long has he been there?

His calculating gaze travels from the now almost empty bottle of tequila besides the empty whisky bottle and glasses, then to Syv, finally landing on me. My flushed cheeks and blinking attempt to focus on him confirms to Xander what’s obvious here.

"Well?" he asks me. "I'm interested to hear your answer."

I silently curse Syv. "How was the drive from Scotland?"

Xander's gaze remains trained on mine, just long enough for me to squirm and convince me he's about to continue the line of questioning.

"Long. Now I need a debrief," he replies.

Syv giggles like a thirteen-year-old and Xander shoots her a look. "About what happened with Seth and why there's a bloody hellhound in my shed."

"That's unfair, Xander. He might not be, we don't know Spot came from Hell. He could just be a normal demon," retorts Syv.

Xander snorts. "Of course. That makes it so much better. I've never come across anything like that before, so get rid of it before I do."

Syv straightens and glowers at him. "Touch him, and I'll hit you. Hard."

"Sure you will."

"Don't piss her off, Xander," I put in. "If she wants to keep him, that's her choice."

Xander shakes his head. "You're insane. Both of you." He gestures at the table. "And drunk."

"Want a drink?" asks Syv and lifts the bottle.

"Maybe later. Vee, if you're sober enough, can you come through to the lounge and talk?"

Syv yawns loudly. "I'll leave you all to your chat. Can I borrow someone's bed? I'll take a nap, then leave later."

Xander closes his eyes and inhales. "Fine."

Syv wanders by Xander, before pausing in the doorway. "Thanks for the fun afternoon, Vee."

I stand too and stumble slightly, steadying myself on a chair. Xander's mouth curls. "Seriously, Vee?"

"What?"

"Getting wasted with Syv. Not helpful."

"I'm fine." I swallow down a hiccup and walk towards him. "I can talk, but I'm sure Ewan and Joss have the full story too."

Before I can walk through the door, Xander wraps his hand around my arm. As with all the guys right now, standing close evokes images of sex and a desire to press my body and mouth against his. 

I moisten my lips as I look back into his green eyes. I could wind my arms around his neck, pull him closer, tug that lip into my mouth and bite. Not too hard, just enough. Then he could kiss me until my toes curl and —

"Vee."

I blink at his stern tone. "Sorry. Distracted."

A muscle ticks in his jaw. "That's the problem right now. Stay focused."

"Yes, sir." I snicker again, and Xander huffs, the breath sweeping my face.

Peeling his fingers from my arm, I pass, shoulder brushing his chest. He lowers his voice. "I'd love to know the answer to Syv's question." 

Is he joking around or annoyed? As usual with Xander, I can't tell.

Unable to resist, I answer. "Joss."

Xander doesn't reply, but surprise flickers across his face before he blinks it away. "Right."

"Joss is the best driver. Why, what did you think Syv was asking?" I ask with mock innocence. 

As I walk away, I bite the side of my hand to stop myself laughing. This is awesome. New Vee can even tell half-truths.

But I've no idea what the answer would be to Syv's real question.