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33
Lena
“No eviscerations tonight. I’d call that a success.” Ruby raises her beer for a cheers while the rest of us stare at her.
“No one? Really?” She shakes her head when no one else raises their glass. When it’s clear her toast is going unappreciated, she tosses back the rest of her drink.
“Jesus, Cube. That was Davis’s dad,” Ezra whispers, but as usual he’s not as quiet as he thinks.
“He was a horrible person. Don’t worry about it.” Davis lifts his coke and clinks it against Ruby’s now empty glass.
We’re at Paul’s Tavern, shutting down for the night. It’s been a long day spent running around, fixing crazy problems, calming tiffs, and resetting blown breakers. A swarm of seagulls attacked Craig Nguyen’s popcorn stand, Jim and Janette got into another fight that ended in cupcakes being launched like mini torpedoes, and I spent a good chunk of the day avoiding Colton. Everything else was fantastic. Children had danced around the Maypole, hundreds of May goodie baskets were handed out, and flower crowns were visible all over town. I still have mine on, the sweet scent of flowers reaching me every now and again.
After clean-up, Archer and I met the rest of our friends at Rhys’s bar to celebrate, as Ruby so succinctly stated, a festival without evisceration. The bar was packed earlier, but last-call was a half hour ago and everyone but us has been ushered out.
“Can someone go lock the door?” Rhys calls from behind the bar, where he’s drying and stacking glasses. Ruby’s closest to the door, so she skips over and flips the lock. Or tries to. The door swings open, knocking into Ruby. A gust of cold air blasts in along with Colton.
Ezra’s already on his feet, stalking to Ruby’s side. She’s throwing death looks at Colton, rubbing at her chest where the door hit her. Ezra wraps a hand around her elbow, his low growl reaching me across the bar. Archer closes up the small space between us, his hand landing on my lower back. He’s been trying to keep the touching to a minimum all night for Rhys’s sake, but Colton showing up has him, all of us, on edge.
“Hey, buddies. Great job today.”
Colton has on jeans that are too damn tight and a white Polo shirt with the collar popped. Do people still do that?
“I personally like my Beltane festivals with a little less homemade deodorant and a lot more human sacrifice, but c’est la vie.” His shoulders lift and a patronizing smile paints his lips.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Rhys turns to the rest of us, annoyance and confusion written on his face. He hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Colton presses his hand to his chest, as if shocked by his own rudeness. “Colton Zima.”
“Well, Colton Zima, we’re closed,” Rhys announces from behind the bar. He’s finished cleaning the glasses and has moved onto glaring at our uninvited guest.
“Oh shoot. And here I thought this was where the after party was happening.” Colton shoves his hands in his too tight pockets, a chagrined look on his face that I don’t buy for one second. He strolls over to me and Archer, that same smile plastered on his face. “I thought we could celebrate our success and plan for the next big event.”
“We’re actually about to head home for the night,” Archer, always the polite one, says with more manners than I’m capable of conjuring up.
Colton frowns and looks at the clock behind the bar. “But today is officially Beltane. Shouldn’t we keep the party going?”
Technically, he’s right. Beltane is May first. We don’t have festivals on Sundays, so now that it’s a new day, it is officially the first.
“Naw. I think we’re ready to call it a night.”
Colton nods his head slowly, that smile creeping back onto his face. We’re going to have to figure out how to ditch this guy. His fake grin makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I swear the anxiety ramps up my magic, because his aura flares around him, and the oily black appears to have spread. Little cracks, almost like veins, run through the glowing yellow color.
Archer squeezes my hip and I lean into his side, ready for bed.
“Yes, let’s wrap things up, shall we?” Colton moves so fast, I don’t immediately react. It’s only Archer’s grunt of pain and the sagging of his body that alerts me that something is very wrong.
“Archer?” I gasp as he crumbles into me, his weight sending us both to the ground. My tailbone slams into the ground and I curse at the pain, blowing out a short breath.
Colton has already stepped back, moving toward the door, but not leaving. He leans back against the bar, watching us. What the hell did he do?
“What the fuck!” Ruby shouts, and it takes me another second to figure out why she’s yelling.
My hand is on Archer’s chest, and something beneath my fingers is wet. My heart is beating so hard, it’s making it hard to catch my breath. It’s as if a fist is squeezing my throat, constricting my lungs. The world around us moves in slow motion, and the only sound I can hear is Archer’s labored breathing. Before my eyes finally pull away from Colton and shift down to Archer, I already know it’s bad.
Red. Blood. Archer.
I can’t think straight and there’s a buzzing that’s driving me crazy.
