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A switch had flipped in J.D., and it was like he was coming back to life—a parched and lifeless plant getting water and springing back up.
“I thought you should know, but you can’t tell anyone,” I said. “I have no clue what’s going on. Leif went feral in, like, a day. That shouldn’t be possible. Something weird is going on, and I have no clue if the show’s producers know about it. I’ll do my best to help him, but until then, I need to make sure you aren’t going to put yourself in danger to look for him.”
J.D.’s head bobbed. “I get it. You’re a Tranquility operative, a badass. I’ll follow your lead. Don’t worry. But if this is true, then there might be a chance to save him somehow.”
If our plan to stage eliminations was going to work, the people we wanted to save would have to know everything. That was the only way things would go smoothly. J.D. was one of those I desperately wanted to save. Why not tell him now? When would there be a better time to bring him into the plan?
“What would you say if I told you that you could survive Bloodstone Island without having to deal with the show?”
“Are you serious?”
“I am. I’m still working on the plan, so I can’t tell you everything, but it’s possible. I need you to trust me and be patient. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, for sure.” I hadn’t expected him to look so excited. “Don’t say anymore. I’m not a good actor, so it’s best if you don’t tell me too much. Like, for real, I’m awful at lying.”
He was already acting more like his normal self, which might pose a problem. “Okay, but you should probably still try to pretend to be sad. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious about your sudden change in mood.”
“Got it. I’ll do my best.” He blushed. “Um, we could say that, uh, well…” He shrugged one shoulder. “We could say I feel better because we actuallydidthe deed here. That could be a good reason for me to be acting different.”
I almost laughed, but he was right. Itwouldsell the act Wyatt and I were putting on. If everyone thought I’d slept with J.D., it would make it that much more believable that Wyatt and I hated each other.
“That’s a really good idea,” I said. “If Von or anyone asks, we had the time of our lives in here. No need to go into gory details, though. Let their imaginations do the work.” I laughed.
J.D. laughed, too, and it was that old infectious laughter. “Well, now that that’s settled, do you want something to eat?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, why not?”
We ate caviar, chocolates, and strawberries covered in whipped cream. J.D. managed to become tipsy on red wine before his metabolism could flush it out. Eventually, he passed out on a chaise lounge with a wine glass in his hand. I gently took the glass, then tucked a blanket over him before falling asleep on the bed.
The next morning, I woke early. J.D. was still asleep on the sofa, snoring softly. Maybe I could get back to my room before the cameras came to interfere.
After slipping on my shoes, I opened the door a crack and peeked out into the hall. Still deserted. Slipping out, I closed the door and hurried down the hallway. The sun wasn’t even up yet. I couldn’t help but grin to myself, thinking of how pissed Von would be when he realized he couldn’t corner me the moment I stepped out of the chamber. It almost made me want to stay behind to see the look on his face.
My thoughts quickly slid from Von to Wyatt. I wondered how his night with Chelsey had gone. It was ridiculous to be jealous of Chelsey, especially when Wyatt had made it clear he had no interest in her. Yet, I couldn’t keep the intrusive thoughts away. What if Chelsey had tried to seduce him? They’d probably had alcohol in their room, too. Who knows what might have happened if things got a little intimate? A mental image of Wyatt’s face buried between Chelsey’s legs flashed across my mind, and a bloodcurdling rage ignited in my wolf.
As I hurried through the halls, the thoughts and images kept playing around in my head. Unbidden and unwelcome. Unstoppable. By the time I returned to my room, I was seething with anger, my wolf only fueling it. I closed the door and almost screamed in surprise when I saw what waited for me in the room.
A small white parrot waddled across the desk by the window. Seeing me, it tilted its head to the side and made anohr-ohrsound. A small and tightly wound tube of paper was tied to its leg with twine.
What the hell?
I inched closer to the bird. The creature didn’t freak out or fly away—a good sign.
“Hey, little buddy. Did someone send you?” I felt dumb talking to it, but what else was I supposed to do? It was a parrot, so maybe it could talk. “Can you speak?”
It tilted its eyes toward me. “Can you speak?” it echoed in a croaking bird voice.
I sighed, irritation boiling up inside me. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Fuck sake,” the parrot responded.
It nudged my fingers with its head as I untied the note. As soon as the paper was in my hand, it leaped off the desk and swooped out my window. I stared after it, watching it flap and glide beyond the mansion grounds and back into the jungle.
As I unrolled the note, my stomach began doing little excited flips. I had a hunch who’d sent it, and when I began to read, a smile formed on my lips. I was right. Zoe.
Me again. That mansion is really hard to get into with magic. Like, freaking crazy-hard. Crew had an idea. The little guy that brought you the note is named Mr. Feather Pants. I named him myself. An eagle shifter here at Haven trained the parrot to carry letters and notes. It looks like the wards around the mansion only keep out dangerous or magical creatures, whoever the witches and fae decide can’t cross the wards. But normal creatures can still get through—rats, birds, bugs, stuff like that. This should work well for passing you information, as long as the dumb bird doesn’t get lost or eaten by something on the way.
I’ll send another letter soon. While you wait, just stay nice and safe, preferably in those big, muscly arms of Wyatt’s. You guys are really cute together. Ah! I love this. I can’t wait to hear all the naughty details when I see you again. Oh, and like last time, watch your fingers.
