31. Blane

CHAPTER 31

Blane

“ J ust forget Decima for now,” Aurelia said. “You could debate with her for an hour and end up right back where you started.”

“She’s right.” Vee took my sister’s side, and it was impossible to argue with both of them. “We should go and find Laurent. Not Aurelia, obviously, because she has to stay here with Marianna and the children. But you, me, and Beauregard.”

“And me,” Lola piped up. “If you’re going on a adventure, I wanna come too.”

“Absolutely not,” I told her.

“But I want to.”

“Planes above,” I muttered, raising my gaze to the ceiling. “She has the mind of a four-year-old and Nev’s devil-may-care attitude.”

“I’m nearly four and a quarter.”

“Sweetie, you have to stay here,” Vee told her.

Joseph scratched his chin. “You know, bringing her along wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

I glared at him. “Yes, it would. ”

“Think about it—Laurent’s expecting Delphine to arrive with Wren. If we send in the two of them, they can distract Laurent while we look for Caria.”

“I hate to point out the obvious, but the soul currently inhabiting Delphine’s body is (a) a juvenile, and (b) not French.”

“Couldn’t we swap somebody else into Delphine’s body?” Vee suggested. “How about Beauregard?”

“Not a good idea. Joseph wasn’t designed to be bound by mortal constraints, and every time he gets a new body, he twitches like crazy for a week or so.” I glanced at Lola. “Plus he’d get distracted by the breasts.”

“That’s true,” Joseph agreed. “What if we swapped Wren?”

Had he lost his mind? Wren wasn’t going anywhere near Laurent. “Absolutely not.”

“Where is Wren, anyway?”

“What do you mean, where’s Wren? She’s right—” I spun around and scanned my ruined apartment. “Where is Wren?”

“She went,” Lola said.

“Went where?”

Lola shrugged in answer.

Vee stared at the door beside the elevator, the one that led to the stairs. “Oh no.”

“Wait, you think she left? Why would she do that?”

“At a guess? Because she found out her boss-slash-boyfriend is actually the King of Hell?”

“There is no King of Hell. I oversaw the tortured souls department, but now I’m just a regular businessman.”

“I think it was the whole ‘sucking out people’s souls’ thing that upset her,” Joseph muttered.

“Or maybe the fact that your ex is back on the scene?” Aurelia suggested. “In a manner of speaking. ”

She felt threatened by Nevaeh? Well, that was just ridiculous. I still loved Nev, of course I did, but love took different forms, as did souls here in Plane Five. What I felt for Nev now was more like fatherly affection. She was four years old, for heaven’s sake. I glanced at her. Okay, four years old with D-cups, but that was very much temporary.

And Wren… It had taken a tragedy for me to see what had been right under my nose the whole time. For the raw pain of her emotions to awaken the aetherbond and fill the chasm in my psyche torn open when I lost Nev. It had taken an angel to make me whole again.

And now she was running.

Running, the way I always feared Nev would if she found out who and what I truly was.

Oh, the irony. Lola seemed quite relaxed about the idea.

“I should go after her,” I said. “She can’t have gone far on foot.”

“Who can’t have gone far?” Myrtle asked, strolling in on two legs rather than four. “Wren? What in Plane Three happened, anyway? I mean, obviously I know the basics, but who are all these dead people? Where did they come from?”

“The madman who abducted Wren’s friend sent them,” Joseph explained. “The blonde was his sister, but Blane had to borrow her body to house Lola’s soul for the time being.”

Lola waved to Myrtle. “I feel weird.”

“And when Blane began switching souls around, Wren freaked out and took off.”

“Cool. Does that mean I don’t have to listen to sex noises all night?”

For the most part, I liked Myrtle, but there were times I wanted to toss her headfirst into an active volcano.

“Wear earplugs,” I snapped. “We have bigger concerns than your sleeping habits. Wren’s wandering around the city alone, and Laurent is trying to kill her. And next time, could you not cause a deranged woman to start shooting wildly inside my apartment?”

“I was trying to help.”

“Well, you didn’t.”

“It stinks in here. You should open a window or something.”

“I have more important things on my mind right now. Finding Wren, for example.”

“We should split up,” Joseph decided. “If Myrtle helps, the four of us can head north, south, east, and west. Wren’s only human. Even an Olympic athlete couldn’t have made it more than a mile.”

“You think?” Myrtle fiddled with her collar. “An athlete can run a mile in four minutes, and you’ve probably been talking for that long.”

My fingers twitched. Don’t throttle the adolescent. “Then we need to get a move on.”

“What about Caria?” Vee asked.

“Wren takes precedence.”

I’d lost Nevaeh; I wasn’t about to lose another soulmate. And when I retrieved Wren, we’d be having words about priorities. How were we meant to find Caria if we were running around Las Vegas looking for somebody else?

“I don’t have a car,” Myrtle said.

“Neither does Wren.” Although she was wearing sneakers and no doubt fuelled by adrenaline. “We need to get going.”

“Oh, she does. She took your Nissan and turned left out of the parking lot.”

“She did what?”

“I mean, she might survive? She had a gun tucked into her waistband.”

“A gun? Where did she get a gun? I don’t even own a gun. ”

Had she brought it with her? No, no, no, she’d arrived with barely a thing, and Joseph had remarked on her pitiful belongings after he unpacked them into her closet. Which wasn’t something I condoned, by the way. He wouldn’t be invading her privacy again.

“At a guess?” Vee poked one of the chargrilled douchebags with a toe. “She probably picked it up off the floor.”

“That could be a good thing?” Aurelia suggested, staying positive as she always did. “If she has a gun and Laurent sends more henchmen—or women—after her, then she can just shoot them.”

Did Wren have a good aim? Had she ever fired a gun before? I realised how little we knew about each other. Wren didn’t like to talk about her past, and I’d avoided discussing mine for obvious reasons, so we’d both been living in the present. And even then, we’d stuck to safe subjects—food, pets, work—because any mention of Caria left her upset.

When I got her back, things would have to change. No more skirting around the difficult topics. And I would get her back. I’d crawl on my knees and grovel if I had to. Kiss her damn feet and pray she saw beyond the monster she now thought I was.

“We need transport.” Yes, I could move fast, but leepering my way around Vegas was a risk I couldn’t take. I loved Wren, but I also had to protect my family and our secrets. My father had warned me that if I stayed in Plane Five, I’d just be replacing my old problems with new ones, and at the time, I’d brushed off his warning. But now I had to concede he was right, an admission that irked me to no end. “Joseph, find us vehicles. Myrtle will have to ride shotgun with one of us.”

“At least if Wren’s in your car, she’ll be easier to spot,” Aurelia said. “I mean, it’s harder to hide a hunk of metal than a person.”

“Blane’s car is mostly made from plastic,” Joseph pointed out.

Myrtle rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Stop being so pedantic and find us wheels.”

“My car is downstairs,” Vee said to me. “The three of us could start out in that while we wait for Beauregard?”

But where would we start? “She could have gone anywhere.”

“Doesn’t she have a brother?”

“He’s on vacation.”

“Maybe she borrowed his apartment? We found a hidden key at her place—what if Kayden leaves a key for emergencies too? Do you know where he lives?”

“Yes, over in Mesquite.”

“So let’s head there. If we hurry, we can get back before sunrise.”

“Wouldn’t she have turned right out of the parking lot if she was going to Mesquite?” Joseph asked.

Vee huffed out a sigh. “Dammit, you’re right.”

“Never thought you’d say that, did you?” Myrtle put in, and I held up a hand to stop Joseph’s retort before they began bickering.

“What’s to the left?” Aurelia asked. “California? Does Wren know anyone in California?”

With startling clarity, I realised that my entire relationship with Wren was upside down. With Nev, I’d built a base of friendship first, and we’d laughed, cried, and grouched together. We’d sipped coffee in Paris, we’d relaxed on the beach in Crete, and we’d hiked in the Carpathian Mountains—although I never did find that werewolf. She’d confided in me about her past, about her dreams of becoming an artist and the problems with her family. About her damaging relationship with drugs and the dark depression that came crashing down when she least expected it. The sex had evolved out of love. The aetherbond had slowly made its presence known, and its exploration had been an adventure we shared.

With Wren, I’d started out more concerned with her abilities as a blackjack dealer than her qualities as a woman. So I’d taken the easy way out and hired Zion, and boy, had that turned out to be a mistake. My only regret was that there hadn’t been a handy member of the Electi standing by to send him straight to Plane Three. Decima would have had a field day with him.

Anyhow, with Wren, the aetherbond had hit me like a fully laden semi, and I’d understood right away what it meant. Nev had taught me that much. She’d also taught me that human lives were far too short, so when I’d been gifted a second chance at love, I’d jumped in feet first, unwilling to miss out on even a second of time with the woman fate had brought to my door.

And now I was drowning.

Wren was gone, and with every new revelation, I found it harder to breathe.

Life in Plane Five was so much more challenging than I’d ever imagined.

“She never mentioned an acquaintance in California, but we didn’t talk as much as we should have.”

“Does she have money with her?” Aurelia asked.

“There’s five hundred bucks in the glove compartment,” Joseph offered.

“Well, as long as she holes up somewhere safe for the night and doesn’t do anything dumb like trying to shoot Laurent, I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

We all stared at each other.

No.

No, she wouldn’t.

Would she?

Wren had always seemed nonconfrontational, but in the past week, I’d begun to notice the quiet strength she kept hidden. And then there was the link to Nev, whose impetuous streak had run wild and deep.

Lola bounced on her toes. “But you said Laurent was the bad guy? So she should shoot him. I hate these shoes.”

See?

If Wren had even a fraction of Nev’s impulsiveness, we were in deep trouble.

“Does she know where Laurent lives?” Vee asked.

“I have no idea.” I racked my brain, but I couldn’t remember her ever mentioning an address. “That particular subject never came up.”

“What on earth have you been doing all week?”

Myrtle opened her mouth, and I clapped a hand over it. “Don’t.”

Vee put her hands on her hips. Uh-oh. “Do you know where he lives?”

“Not exactly.”

“Define ‘not exactly.’”

“Vegas is all I’ve got.”

She tore her hands through her hair. “For Pete’s sake. Who would know? This Zion guy? He’s definitely dead?”

I thought back to the men I’d left neatly lined up on the floor in the Colosseum with barely a mark on them. If Wren hadn’t been in mortal danger, I’d have ruined another suit and enjoyed every second of it.

“He bragged about keeping me occupied while Delphine came to collect Wren. What was I supposed to do?”

Joseph huffed. “I told you we should have tortured him. ”

“We didn’t have time,” I said through clenched teeth.

“We could try Google?” Myrtle suggested.

“What’s Google?” Aurelia wanted to know.

This was a disaster.

“It’s like a library, except you have nearly all the information in the world at your fingertips. Plus a lot of stuff that people have made up, and the challenge is sorting fact from fiction.”

Aurelia looked more energised than I’d seen her all day. “Where is this Google library?”

“On the coffee table.”

“Where?”

“That grey box.”

“No way.”

“Yes way, but we’ll have to talk about that later. I doubt Laurent broadcasts his address on the internet.”

Why would he? Unless he’d opened his doors for a “Homes of the rich and murderous” feature, there’d be no need for him to advertise his whereabouts.

Vee blew out a long breath. “I’ll have to ask Jack, won’t I? If Laurent is as big an asshole as you say, I bet the cops know where he lives. Is Laurent a first name or a last name?”

“A last name, I believe. Zion referred to him as Raph once.”

What were the consequences of involving Jack Callahan? He’d ask questions, but at this moment, saving Wren was more important than anything.

“So they were on first-name terms?”

“Yes?” Dammit, why hadn’t I picked up on that? “Call Jack. Just don’t invite him over here, whatever you do.”

Callahan turned a blind eye to many things, but even he might get tetchy if he saw the bodies littering my apartment.

Vee stepped away, phone to her ear, and began talking softly. I strained to hear, and the fact that I couldn’t was a sore point. My hearing might have been above average when compared to a human’s, but it wasn’t as good as Vee’s or Joseph’s. The mixed abilities were another fail-safe. The Celestial Council had ensured that no one being had too much power lest they get any big ideas. Nobody wanted a coup. We had the appropriate gifts to do our jobs, no more, no less.

“Well?” I asked the instant she hung up.

“So, Jack wasn’t keen on giving us the address, mainly because he thinks we might do something stupid.”

“I mean, it’s a fair point,” Myrtle said.

“But he did say Raphael Laurent lives near Iron Mountain, and if we head over in that direction, he’ll join us as soon as he can and ask Laurent some questions.”

“No, no, no. Callahan is not coming with us,” I said.

“Not right now, he isn’t. He picked up a new murder case.” Vee raised an eyebrow. “Does six bodies in a gym sound familiar?”

“What was I meant to do? Let them go?”

“Why don’t we head over to Iron Mountain and listen for the screams?” Joseph suggested, and Myrtle’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Wait, did you say Raphael Laurent? Raphael like the ninja turtle?”

“The what?”

“It’s a cartoon on the Retro Channel with four— Never mind. I might know where Raphael Laurent lives.”

“Where? And how?” I demanded.

“Okay, so I don’t have an exact address, but I know he has a guitar-shaped swimming pool.”

“Explain.”

“I like to sneak into shows at the Cube, right?” Yes, I was well aware of that. I’d had to retrieve her from there in cat form three times. Luckily, the theatre staff thought she was cute. “So I found a new place to hide. A gantry above one of the VIP boxes. It’s nice and dark, so if I accidentally turn into the real me at the wrong moment, nobody will notice.”

Thanks to the itching, Myrtle got enough notice of an impending shift to skedaddle if she was in company, but she hated to miss a show.

“Lovely, but what does this have to do with Laurent?”

“A couple of months ago, there were a bunch of realtors in the box, and they were talking about their creepy clients. And guess who’s the biggest creep of all?”

“Laurent?”

“Right. Raphael Laurent, like the ninja turtle. He kept hitting on his realtor even though he knew she was married, but she had to put up with it because of the commission. The huge commission. She said he bought a mansion from some old rocker, and the place had a pool shaped like a guitar and a pathway that played music when you walked on it.”

Perhaps Google would give us the answer after all? I grabbed my laptop and loaded Google Earth. Zoomed in on Iron Mountain.

And there it was.

“Let’s go.”