Page 12 of Envious Of Fire
The moment Jeremy mentions Las Vegas, Kyle’s mind is transported there.
To the threatening hallways of the Scarlet Sands.
To the windy rooftop where he reunited with Elias.
To the disorienting hallways of the House of Vegasyn.
To the stark white room where he watched Brock die.
“Maybe your … father has his reasons,” Kyle finds himself saying, at once not wishing anyone he cares about to discover that dark and deadly underworld he experienced mere days ago. Has it been only days? It feels like months. Years.
“Yeah, sure, reasons,” echoes Jeremy, miserable.
Kyle puts a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, gives it a squeeze, encouraging him. “Don’t lose hope. Hey, once upon a time, I thought my fate was to live and die in a small Texas town, to be invisible, forever lost under my former best friend’s shadow, lurking under my significantly more successful and smarter younger brother’s achievements, shriveling away inside my own unforgivable … averageness. But now?” He smiles. “My life is so much bigger.” He reconsiders. “Well, sort of.”
Jeremy nods. “Fine. I’ll take that to mean you’re planning a secret trip for me.”
Kyle squints at him. “Say what?”
“You’re making plans to sneak me out on a cool midnight trip to Vegas someday. I knew it.” He snaps his fingers. “Hey, you basically just pinky-promised it.”
“But you’re underage!”
“So now I’m gonna hold you to it! Oh, but only if Layna can come, too. Speaking of, I’d better check if she’s here yet.” He pats Kyle on the shoulder, satisfied, then strolls right out of the kitchen, the door left swinging at his back.
Leland snorts at the sink, mutters, “Can’t deny the birthday boy what he wants,” then starts whistling to himself.
Kyle shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. He will have to pitch different places to Jeremy. Grand Canyon. Somewhere fun in California, on the coast. Even Antarctica is a better option.
And likely far less deadly than Las Vegas.
Or more specifically: the Vegasyn domain.
Kyle heads to Cade’s office, giving the door a light knock before poking his head in. “Evening. Just letting you know I’m here. Nice decorations, by the way, livens up the place.”
“Huh?” She looks up from a mess of books and an opened laptop on her desk. “Oh, right, thanks, hope it isn’t too much. Hey, have you by chance ever heard of Winona Norwood? Or the Norwood Coven? Or, um … something to do with—wait, what was it?” She flips over a book and drags her finger across the back, reading, then shuffles over a pile of paper to fish out a single pink sticky note, at which she now squints in confusion. “Can’t read my own handwriting. The hell is this here?”
Cade took over the bar when her father became ill. No one would know she hated it at first, considering how pleasant and warm she usually is. The bar was a burden, and her hands were full with raising Layna. Now, she’s a woman with everything under control—except perhaps for the mess covering her desk at the moment. Clicking away on her laptop with one hand, she runs the other through her long tight braids, pulling them over a shoulder to reveal her snake tattoo winding up the right side of her neck, the ink striking and artful on her deep mahogany skin.Frustration creases her forehead as she squints wearily at the screen, scrolling through articles, looking for something.
Kyle takes a step back. “Doesn’t ring a bell, either of those names. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just came to say hi. I’ll go and relieve Becks now.”
“Hey, hey, not so fast.” She slaps shut her laptop and peers up. “Sorry. Did you say something when you first came in? Oh, the decorations! Yeah, it’s Jeremy’s birthday. You see him?”
Kyle smiles. “Sure did.”
“Good. Layna’s on her way. She’s fixing some cupcakes. I sure hope she doesn’t burn down the kitchen. Ididleave her in a state of duress, and she wouldnottake my help. She’s at that age, know what I mean? The‘let me do it, Mom!’age.” Cade lets out a sigh, shakes her head, then gives a swat at her books. “So that leaves me coming in early to sit here at a desk and pretend I’m a private eye who has any idea how to hunt down my own family history.”
Laughter and cheers are heard in the bar. Kyle glances out the door, taking note that Layna has arrived with said cupcakes, joining a number of others at one of the tables. Then he slowly eases the door closed and smiles at Cade. “Seems your daughter arrived safe and sound, baked goods included.”
“Do you think I’m being foolish here?”
Kyle lifts his eyebrows. “About what?”
“All of this?” She gestures at the catastrophe on her desk. “You know what I’m doing, right? You’re the only one I told.”
A rush of bubbling heat courses into Kyle like a fever. It’s Cade’s prickling doubt and desperate need for her suspicions to be validated. She has seen many peculiar marvels from her gran, and just before she died, she told Cade a secret, that she had a “gift”. Ever since, Cade has toiled with the possibility that the gift might have passed down to her or her daughter. Back and forth she’s gone, believing in it, then casting the notion away outright,thinking it ridiculous. Kyle senses all her worries.
And he suspects his own truth has now rekindled Cade’s.
