Page 6 of Riot of Autumn

Archer: The real question is, where are you and where are your clothes?

That’s a loaded question. One I don’t think Archer intended to ask. He’s just being nosy as usual. I ignore the rest of the texts coming in and sit up on the couch with a groan. I stretch, hearing something pop in my back. I’m getting too old to sleep on a damn couch. If I didn’t think it would have gotten me a punch to the nuts, I would have snuck into Ruby’s bed. Axil comes trotting out of the bedroom and I take him outside, giving Ruby a few more minutes to lie in bed. Skeeter, Ruby’s taciturn neighbor, is sitting on their shared porch drinking a cup of coffee.

We both nod at each other without exchanging any words. That’s about the friendliest greeting Skeeter gives. He barely acknowledges me otherwise. I can’t imagine what the hell he’s thinking right now. I’m on Ruby’s front porch with no shirt on, and in pants that are crushing my junk and barely reach mid-calf.

With another nod at Skeeter, I take Axil back inside. He hops up on the couch and flops over, like he hasn’t been sleeping for hours already. I make my way to Ruby’s room, pausing in the doorway.

Ruby has all the shades drawn. It’s dark in her room except for a little night light she has on her dresser. It’s shaped like a piece of toast and is goofy and nonsensical, but that’s just Ruby. I don’t need the small glowing light. My eyesight has been getting sharper for months now, and I can see in the dark clearly.

Ruby is sprawled across her bed, lying on her stomach. Her hair covers her face and there’s a sheet thrown over her lower back. Ruby’s feet are kicked free from the cover, giving me a clear view of her shapely legs. Her arms are tucked under her pillow. Her tank top is riding up so high I see the tattoo on her ribs that I gave her five years ago. It’s still one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever done. I don’t know if it’s because it’s on Ruby, or if it’s because of the design. It’s a cube with a geometric pattern inside. At first glance, it’s a simple shape but inside, it’s full of complexity and has you wondering if it’s an optical illusion.

Ruby flipped me the bird the first time she looked at it. She had the same reaction after I tattooed my name on her hip. That one was only fair. She tattooed her name on me first. As mistrustful as Ruby is, I still can’t believe she let me tattoo her without knowing what I was putting on her. Twice.

“Get up and shower, Ruby. You need to be at my house in 2 hours,” I call out from her doorway before I do something stupid, like crawl into bed with her.

“Get fucked,” Ruby sleepily calls back without any heat.

Turning away from her room takes more willpower than I thought I had, but I force myself to leave. With one more scratch behind Axil’s ears, I chuckle and head home. Hopping into my UTV, I steer clear of downtown and take the back roads, which are really dirt trails, through the woods. It’s less than a ten-minute drive from Ruby’s house to mine, door to door.

I live in a cottage-style house that sits on the edge of the woods, right where it butts up to a stretch of private beach. The house is only a few hundred yards from the ocean. I’m aware how fucked up that is, considering my history with and feelings toward the water, but it’s picturesque. There’s a walkway that leads from the patio down to the beach, and a dock that juts out into the sea. Sort of a waste since I never go down there. I don’t find it relaxing to sit next to the water and ponder shit. But it’s a nice view.

The side of the house that faces the ocean has floor to ceiling windows that can be opened to let in the breeze when the weather cooperates. Technically, the front of the house faces the woods, but hardly anyone ever comes in that way.

There’s a detached garage on the side of the house where I park my UTV. Heading inside, I rip the too small pants off and throw them in the garbage as I pass through the kitchen and move naked into my bedroom. There’s a large bathroom off the master bedroom and I head straight toward the shower.

I crank on the hot water and step in before it’s fully heated. Once it warms up, the hot water pounds my back and I tip my head, letting it pour over my face. My thoughts immediately go to Ruby. Last night was fucked up. Ruby and I didn’t really talk about what happened. We’re both experts at shoving the important stuff under the rug and focusing on petty shit instead.

We fought against the Fae in the clearing last night, and we won. For now.

I don’t think Anthony and all his little minions realized what we’re capable of. Archer’s shadows are pretty damn badass, and I’ll admit, Miri’s potion bombs were impressive. In all the chaos, one thing no one noticed was that my magic came out last night as well.

I’ve been fighting the pull of it for a while now. Not that I knew what the hell the end result was going to be. I do now.

I scrub my face, wondering how I’m going to tell everyone about my magic. I’ve been avoiding finding out for so long that now it feels like even more of a big deal to announce it.

Fuck it. That’s a problem for later.

Shutting off the water, I dry off and get dressed before the cavalry shows up. It doesn’t take long before Rhys, Zara, and Ruby pull up in Rhys’s UTV. Lena and Archer are next, followed by Davis and Miri, who come in through the front door of the house. Davis would have taken the paved path through the woods on his motorcycle, instead of the beach like the others.

It’s hot as a fucking sauna out today, so everyone picks a spot in my living room. There’s a large, dark blue sectional that faces a fireplace with the TV mounted above. An overstuffed chair sits to the right of the couch, and there’s an ottoman in the center. To the left is the wall of windows and sliding glass doors that open onto the patio. On the other side of the room is the kitchen and island with more seating.

Ruby, Zara, Rhys, Lena, and Archer all sit on the large sectional couch. Davis settles into the overstuffed chair, his brown hair tucked under a baseball cap. The ends curl up and his eyes stay almost hidden. Miri perches on the arm, lifting her shoulder length dark hair off her neck and throwing it up into a messy bun. Every item of clothing on her is black, down to her nail polish and the collection of bracelets on her wrists.

I sit on the floor, because I’m not about to stand and I really don’t want to squeeze my ass between people on the couch. This way I can stretch out anyway.

“You’ve got us here, Rhys. What’s so important that I couldn’t sleep another twelve hours on my day off?” I ask, already tired despite having no idea what he’s going to say.

Zara’s the one who leans forward. I know that she and Ruby look a lot alike, but I almost can’t see it. Zara’s hair color is the golden blonde that Ruby’s used to be before she started dying it. The shape of their wide, luminous eyes is so similar, except Ruby’s are a jade green while Zara’s are hazel. Zara has the tiniest bit of height on Ruby, even though she’s technically the younger sister. They could almost be twins, but they’re distinctly different in other ways. Although Zara definitely has a spark that must be hereditary in the Lauren’s family line.

“The Duke is here.”

Zara filled us in on the basics of what happened to her when she lived in Fairy, but I suspect there’s a whole hell of a lot she hasn’t shared. One thing I know is that the Duke tattooed Zara when she was just a fucking kid. He put some kind of torture magic in the ink. I covered it up for her not that long ago. The way she screamed when the spell kicked in is something I will never forget.

“How do you know?” Lena asks, her face paling as she runs a hand over the sleek ponytail that’s holding back her long black hair.

Unlike Ruby and Zara, Rhys and Lena are actually twins. Not identical, obviously, but they both share the raven’s wing colored hair, and eyes a blue that borders on purple. Right now, Lena looks sick, while Rhys’s face is a mask of anger.

“We saw him walking down the street last night.” Zara makes a face. “This morning. After everyone else left the bar.” She’s wringing her hands, squeezing her fingers so hard they’re turning white. Rhys reaches over and pulls one of her hands to his lap, threading their fingers together. “He got through the veil somehow.”

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