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The breakfast was very good, hash browns aside. When she was finished, Shay thanked Paxton a third time as she scraped her plate clean and started tidying up the kitchen.
Roman watched her from where he sat at the table, hands wrapped around a mug of green tea. Paxton was jabbering to his brother about Cryptic Crypts, his voice as cheery as the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the tiny apartment.
Shay liked having them here. It felt less…lonely. She could almost pretend she had a family. People she could call her own.
And she liked that Roman’s face had healed a bit during the night, the bruises fading. His skin wasn’t as swollen, the cuts healing.
His back, though…those wounds would take longer.
“Can I have a shower?” Paxton asked suddenly.
“Of course you can,” Shay said, filling the sink with hot, soapy water.
Paxton pushed his chair out. “Thanks.” He skipped down the hallway, his puppy Familiar coming out of his shadow to chase after him and nip at his heels. The sound of Paxton’s laughter bubbling through the apartment warmed her heart.
Shay smiled softly and watched the water foam up from the soap, her tired eyes glazing over. She needed another coffee.
“Thank you.” Roman’s husky voice filled the usually silent, lonely kitchen.
Shay looked up to see Roman watching from his spot at the table, his golden eyes heavy with emotion. Shay knew he wasn’t thanking her for cleaning up.
He drew a breath. “‘Thank you’ doesn’t even begin to cover it—”
“It covers it just fine,” she interrupted gently. “And you’re welcome, Roman.”
88
Roman’s House
YVESWICH, STATE OF KER
The house was alive with activity. There were so many new faces here, Loren found it a bit overwhelming to keep track of them all.
She sat at the kitchen table, sipping from a cup of velvety matcha, as the others finished eating breakfast all around her. A few of the slayers had to sit at the island or in the living room, not enough chairs for everyone at the table. Arthur insisted on eating in the living room, in an armchair that was far more comfortable for someone his age.
Loren could sense Darien watching her from where he sat at one end of the table, but she tried her best not to look at him, still not sure what to think of everything that happened last night. The new memories…and her fear that he was keeping things from her.
As if he could tell that she was thinking about him, Darien said, “If you need more painkillers, I can get them for you.”
She stared straight ahead as she sipped her matcha. “I’m fine.”
Darien only kept watching her. Still, she did not look at him.
Loren had been waiting all morning for an opportunity to talk to Dallas alone—to ask her sister questions about what really happened these last six months. But Dallas was avoiding her the same way Loren was avoiding Darien—never making eye contact, never speaking directly to her. It made this whole situation even worse, because Loren could feel more memories making their return. Bits and pieces of things filling in the gaps in her mind.
A memory of the one named Malakai Delaney pointing a gun at her and Darien under the crimson wash of a Blood Moon.
A different memory of his sister Jewels yelling at him in the House of Souls about a botched date, Dallas and the Devils standing around Loren.
The unexpected recollection of these events made her feel nauseous and off-balance, as if a tidal wave had slammed into her, ripping her off solid ground. Never mind that she felt alone, no one able to relate to what she was going through, nor were they able to explain things properly without knowing exactly what was missing in her mind and what wasn’t.
The others had more to discuss this morning, so she mostly listened instead of spoke. During their time apart, Travis, Lace, and Jewels had gone with Sabrine and Logan to a place in Angelthene called Witchlight Alchemy and Archives, where Arthur, Roark, and Taega had told them they believed a new replica of the Arcanum Well was being created. And all replicas, Loren’s biological father had ensured, would be cursed, a fact that made a replica of the ancient artifact something to fear.
“Why, though?” Ivy was saying as she grabbed Jack’s plate and stacked it on top of her own. “It didn’t work the first time. They wouldn’t be that stupid, would they? To risk building another one? It’s suicidal.”
“And if they are, why bring it to Yveswich?” Max added. He sat beside Darien, Dallas in the chair on his left. “Makes no sense.”
“Tamika had something interesting to say, actually,” Travis said. It was the first thing he’d said all morning, his mind clearly occupied by his brothers who were still absent. He looked like he hadn’t slept.
