“That was unexpected,” he says as I pull away.
“Don’t get used to it. I’m not spontaneous.”
“I am.”
That’s all the warning he gives me.
Wraith grabs the back of my neck and lowers his head. His kiss is nothing like the one I gave him. It sends a delicious burn through me that scorches every nerve. The heat settles between my legs and an almost painful pressure builds there, demanding Wraith’s touch.
But he ends the kiss as quickly as it began. A wonderfully wicked grin plays on his mouth. “Don’t stoke the fire if you don’t want to get burned.”
Good Lord.
“That wasn’t nice,” I scold, breathless.
“I’m never nice.”
“I’ll consider myself warned.”
Any playfulness dies a quick death when we reach Fourth Street. An old panic crashes over me. But Jester turns right, thankfully. If he’d gone left, he would have taken us to the upper part of town. Buried in the interwoven network of roads is Vine Street. I haven’t seen the two-bedroom, one-bathroom shithole since I left my father dead on the kitchen floor. Being this near the house brings a torrent of memories back to me. Of my father soaked in liquor. His sloth of a body deepening the dent in the cushion of the hideous green couch. Him stumbling in through the front door, pissed off at the world. Taking out his frustrations on me. Leaving me broken on the dirty floor of our crappy little house, to clean up his mess only for him to make a bigger one during his next temper tantrum.
I swore no matter where life took me, I’d make sure it was in the opposite direction of Mayhem. Away from these memories. Away from the ghost of Billy Ellis. But here I am, right back in Mayhem.
“You good?”
Wraith’s question pulls me out of my mind.
“Yes.” I’m full of shit because I’m pretty much MacGyvering it, holding myself together with the equivalent of bubble gum and dental floss.
If okay ishere, I’m way overthere. I can’t evenseeokay. I’veneverbeen okay and will likely never willbeokay. Not entirely, anyway. What my father did to me, and my mother abandoning me, broke a piece of my brain and no amount of therapy had been able to fix the damage. But it is what it is, and I thought I made peace with it years ago. Seems I was wrong, because I’m holding Wraith as if he’s my lifeline.
But hasn’t he always been my safe harbor whenever the wind blew too strong? And right now, the storm is raging.
“Liar.”
“Shut up,” I scold, but I do it with a laugh.
As we pass Sanctum, Wraith sits up taller to stare out the window, and his unguarded expression tells me how much he’s missed this town. Missed Sanctum, and his Unholy family.
I can see only the top of the building rising from behind the high black wall. Unlike David’s kingdom, Sanctum’s gate protects its occupants. It doesn’t keep them prisoner.
Security lights flood the yard, and as we drive by, the whine of dirt bike engines sound in the distance. Some gangs ride motorcycles. The Unholy favors dirt bikes, ATVs, snowmobiles… Anything with enough power to tear up Wayne County’s mountainous terrain.
We go a little farther up the road, cross the Lackawaxen River by way of Pickers Bridge, and pull into a long, gravel driveway. Soon as the van rolls to a stop, Jester hops out and flings open the back doors. I’m stunned by the two-story white house perched on Tyler Cliff. It’s picturesque, reclusive, and the last place I expect Wraith to call home.
Lit by the half-moon, Jester sweeps his arms toward the house. “Welcome home, kids.”
The first rush of crisp mountain air is divine after being in the van for eighteen-ish hours. As I suck in the initial breath of Mayhem, I hide my apprehension when I notice a formidable figure marching toward us.
Good Lord, the man is tremendous. His arrogance walks ten steps ahead of him. So does an air of violence. He’s a physical assault to the senses, and the closer he gets, the more I want to retreat deeper into the van. Not that there’s much farther I can go—nor am I the retreating sort.
I can only assume this is Crow. By his appearance, I can see why he’s earned his rank. He is absolutely terrifying.
“He’s not as scary as he looks,” Wraith says as he climbs out of the van.
No? Then why do I feel the need to cross myself to ward off the hostility emanating from him?
I take Wraith’s hand so he can help me out after him. “I’m not scared.”
