Entity Mine (20 page)

He glanced at the moon and sped up. He had to get back to his other body before the window closed and it wasn’t viable, but he didn’t have that problem with this one. The original spirit remained, unconscious, but not forever.

Maybe he should give up the other one and stay here? He examined his reflection in a car window as he passed the curb. Naw, it might put up a fight when it sobered up. Dealing with the living was so tiresome.

He rubbed the track marks under his sleeves. Still, he could come back anytime.

He jogged to the nearest bolt-hole into Nod. The berks on the Ethereal Council thought they could imprison him there, but all they’d done was make it easier. Thank the Mother, they thought they were dealing with a simple human step-in. If they’d only known.

As soon as he was in his other shell, he hurried though his poky flat collecting the materials he needed to dream walk. Couldn’t let the chimeras get too comfortable.

He didn’t think they’d ever realized he’d visited Devon’s dreams. Not that he’d managed to get more than a few seconds of dreamtime. Sodding mating bond. If chimeras couldn’t be together physically, the bond ensured mates would dream link, raising the chances of meeting.

It’d taken him hours to get in that night and he’d been pushed out almost immediately.

No matter. Who should he plague tonight?

He’d gathered an array of hair from the rental house after they’d left. He picked up a bottle and examined the one tiny, black inch-long strand inside, then turned the bottle to read the label.

Ethan.
Perfect.

Chapter 30

Ethan dreamed that night. Terrible mixed-up dreams. He was a child again, passed from one faceless, negligent family to the next, until he came to Richard and Nancy Seeger. The dream slowed, and he could see Nancy in the kitchen making cookies. Richard was in the yard with his foster brothers playing catch. Ethan kept asking to play, but no one ever seemed to see him.

Finally, they turned on him, faces distorted, eyes black and demonic. “You’re too big,” they chorused. “You’ll hurt us. You’ll hurt, Devon.” And Devon, eyes the cold, pitiless, black as the others, was there, pushing him away, “You’re too big. Too dangerous. I could never love you. You scare me.”

Ethan woke with a start and found her spooned into his side, stroking his face.

“Easy,” she whispered. “It was just a dream.”

He turned and lay on his back, staring at Ky’s fancy ceiling. It might have been only a dream, but it reflected his thoughts when they’d gone to bed.

He’d known the junkie was possessed in the park. Still, he’d been a heartbeat away from changing and tearing out the man’s throat. Hell, he might have killed him without changing. Even now he could imagine curling his hand around the vagrant’s scrawny neck.

What was wrong with him? Had he become everything his foster parents had feared? He gritted his teeth and sat up. “I can’t sleep.”

She patted his arm without opening her eyes. “Get something to drink. Maybe that will help.”

He crept down the spiral stairs, trying not to wake anyone and walked into the kitchen. He’d had a foster mother who sworn by warm milk, or course she’d spiked hers with enough whiskey to knock out a horse. That had been the end of that placement.

He opened the refrigerator and took out some milk.

“Hey.” Jake scuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his face, rumpled, black hair falling over his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

Jake tapped his ear. “Sensitive hearing, remember?”

Ethan poured some milk into a mug and popped it in the microwave, wincing at the loudness of the beeps. At this rate everyone would be up.

“What’s wrong?” Jake swung out a stool and plonked his elbows down on the island.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

Jake peered at him from under his hair. “Dude, you’re drinking warm milk. You didn’t even put any brandy in there.”

Ethan scratched his head. He wasn’t really the sharing type, but if anyone could understand what he was going through Jake could.

He stared into space for a moment, corralling his scattered thoughts. “People have been afraid of me my whole life.” He sucked his cheek. “I never did anything to cause it. They were just afraid. When I started to lose it and got dangerous.” He fisted his hands. “I don’t know, it almost seemed—logical, like, the bad guy everybody else saw was finally coming out.”

Jake folded his arms, but didn’t say anything and Ethan almost didn’t go on, but he wanted—no—needed, to tell someone. “Then I met you and Ky and I thought things could be different. People wouldn’t need to be afraid of me. I could be normal. Devon and I got together and I felt better. More stable, but you know, when I ran into Harvey in the park, if Devon hadn’t held me back, I could have killed him. And part of me knew it wouldn’t really hurt the demon, but . . . , God, I wanted to rip him apart.”

“That’s a problem.” Jake ran his hand through his hair. “But not out of the ordinary. He startled you when you were with your mate.” He paused for a second, his forehead folding into a frown. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised, if he was hoping you’d kill the man.”

“Maybe.”

Jake rested his scruffy chin on his arms. “What’re your options?”

His options? If he had any, they all sucked. Leaving would hurt them both. Staying might put Devon in danger. “I don’t know. Maybe after we get the seal and Beth and Matthew are safe, I should leave.”

Devon, out of sight on the stairs, stiffened where she stood, her cold hand biting into the curving metal stair rail. What was that old saying?
Eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves?
Not that she’d meant to listen in, but she’d been unable to go back to sleep and thought she’d join Ethan in the kitchen.

Tears clawed her eyelids and she drew back, unable to bear to hear the rest of the conversation. She’d thought their relationship had changed in the park. That she was becoming more than just a mate in his eyes. He might not have said anything, but his every touch had spoken for him. Or so she’d thought. And now he was talking of leaving her. Abandoning their baby? Anger straightened her spine as she entered the spacious guest room. She loved him. She accepted their bond. Hell, nothing had ever felt so right. She couldn’t make him love her, but there was no way on Earth she would give up without a fight.

In the kitchen, Ethan didn’t have to wait long for his brother’s opinion.

Jake jumped back as if stung. “Leave? Do you have your head up your ass so far it’s too dark to see?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Our oldest brother is so far off the reservation, he can’t go to his restaurant for fear of ripping some asshole a new one for complaining his steak is too rare.” Jake slammed his palms into the granite. “The universe, or fate, or Mother Nature or whatever, has plopped this incredible gift in your lap and you’re just gonna throw it away because you’re too fucking scared you can’t handle your temper?”

Jake’s words hit a nerve and Ethan couldn’t hold back a roar. It came out full lion and Jake let loose a roar in return. They stared each other down across the kitchen island, panting hard.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Ky, his spiked hair standing straight up, eyes flashing dragon green, stood at the base of the spiral staircase.

Jake straightened. His features blank. “Nothing.”

Ethan gave him a hard look, muscling his rioting emotions back under control, and hid his heavy breathing as he turned to face their oldest brother. “Jake was just showing me how to roar without changing. Sorry we woke you. I forgot how early it is.”

Ky shook his head and meandered to the island, scratching his bare chest. “Good thing this place is soundproofed.”

Ethan got the feeling Ky was only pretending to believe them.

His brother yawned and kicked out a stool. “You never did get along with Jake. Probably because he stole your position as the baby.”

Ethan cast another glance at Jake and let himself be diverted. “We’re not
not
getting along now, and I was, like, one year old.”

Ky shrugged. “Whatever you say.” He gave them both one of his almost smiles. The kind that made you think he was hiding his teeth. “Since you two are getting along so well, maybe you can pick up the things I’ve ordered.”

“Sure,” Ethan said at the same time as Jake. A quick glance at his youngest brother told him this conversation was far from over.

Devon jiggled her black pump, snuck a glance at her phone, nineteen hours now, then across the cab at Ethan.

She’d heard roars in the kitchen after she’d retreated upstairs and she’d yet to ask what had happened. He and Jake had disappeared on some errand and only just showed up in time to head to mid-town for the first stage in the plan.

Ethan had called his friends to let them know he was okay, and it had turned out that one of them, Joe, was in Manhattan, so they’d left early to meet him at a diner not far from Laird’s building.

She fiddled with a tiny imperfection in her scarlet nail polish. Anjali had taken her for a mani-pedi after the boys had left, ostensibly so Devon could look the part she was playing, but the other woman had enjoyed the grooming ritual so much, Devon figured that’d just been an excuse. She allowed herself a smile, wiggling her painted fingers to see the shine. Nothing like sitting next to someone, your feet pummeled with jets while a massage chair vibrated every muscle to spark up a friendship.

She slid another glance Ethan’s way and cleared her throat. “So, everything okay with you and Jake?”

“Fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Such a man. “Oh, I don’t know. The roaring?”

He stared out the window as if fascinated by a hotdog cart. “It was nothing.”

Okay
. Before Devon could challenge that assertion, the cab came to a stop and in no time they were standing outside the diner. Ethan touched her cheek as she reached for the oversized door handle. “It’ll be fine.”

“Ethan!” A tall man with nut-brown hair almost as short as Ethan’s, wearing a brown leather jacket, stopped beside them. “Oh my God, Cy, you scared the fuck out of us!”

“Joe.” Ethan stuck out his hand.

The other man grasped it and hauled him into a hug.

After a minute, his friend stood back, shoving his hands in his jeans pocket. “What the hell happened? Where’ve you been?”

Ethan copied the other man’s relaxed posture. “I can’t really tell you.”

“Shit. Of course, man.” He waved a capable hand. “I figured it might be something like that.”

Devon split a glance between the two of them. They seemed to be speaking English, but though they appeared to understand each other, she had no idea what was being said for a moment and then it dawned on her, Ethan had implied he’d been on a—what did they call them?—black mission.

Short of the truth, it was as good an excuse as any, better than Cuba.

Joe turned to face her, and Ethan put an arm on her shoulder. “This is my . . .” He hesitated and Devon held her breath. “—fiancée,” he finished.

She smiled and shook Joe’s hand, trying to pretend she wasn’t riding a whirlwind of mixed-up emotions at Ethan’s words. Had he meant it? Did he consider them engaged? Was that leaving nonsense behind them? Or had he been caught off-guard and said the first thing that popped into his head?

Joe grinned, showing dimples that merged into furrows down his lean cheeks. “Come on. Let’s get that beer.”

Ethan gestured to the diner door. “I don’t have too much time. I need to see Laird.”

“Me, too. That’s why I’m in town. I’m looking for financing for a new project, but I don’t have an appointment. Do you?”

“What do you think?”

Joe opened the door and ushered them into the restaurant. “Hell, I can wait until tomorrow to see that tightwad. I met a girl last night, so I don’t mind spending an extra night in New York.”

As they waited to be seated, Ethan’s friend chatted about his latest project and told her how the pair had come to know each other. Devon grinned as Joe shared a particularly embarrassing memory.
Your friend’s hilarious, but I hope we get seated soon. I want to get my part in the plan over with. We only have a little less than nineteen hours now.”

Ethan shrugged
. I know, but he’s one of my oldest friends and he believed I was dead. We can spare a half an hour.

In no time they were parked in a cozy booth, eating french fries and drinking beer. Devon pleaded work and sipped a water. She was nervous enough about what she had to do without putting alcohol in the mix. She rubbed her thumbnail and watched the bike messengers, cabs, and pedestrians vying for space on the bustling street, listening to Ethan and Joe reminisce.

After the last of his fries were gone, Ethan excused himself to the restroom. Devon watched him go. He stopped as he reached the men’s room and leaned down to pick something off the floor, then disappeared through the swinging door.

She took a sip of her water, ice tinkling. “Has he always done that?”

“Done what?” Joe dredged a fry in ketchup and popped it in his mouth.

“The picking coins off the ground thing. He has a whole huge jar at home.”

Joe shook his head. “He’s done it since I’ve known him. He sends the money to the Seegers—his second-to-last foster parents.”

Devon sat back in the booth. That was so kind of him. “If the placement failed, how come he sends them money?”

Joe took a sip of his beer and made an apologetic face. “He should probably be the one to tell you.”

“Do you think he will?” Devon shredded the rind of her lemon wedge, the scent rising in the air.

He shrugged, glanced in the direction of the restrooms, and sighed. “You already know Jaden and I met Ethan at our last placement. I never met the Seegers, but we’d all heard of them. They were the kind of foster parents we all wished we’d get. The kind that really tried. They took in as many kids as they could afford. I guess Ethan wanted to help out.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Me, neither.” He put a hand across the table and leaned in. “Between you and me, I’m glad he found you. The Seegers really messed him up. He hardly spoke by the time we met him. I’m sorry to say, I was a little nervous of him myself at first. He was so big for his age and there’s something about the way he carries himself, the way he seems to evaluate his surroundings, as if he could lash out at any second.” He lifted his shoulders and settled back in his chair. “I figured someone had whaled the shit out of him when he was real little.”

The causal way Joe said that, as if that was just the way it was, brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”