3. Luke

THREE

Luke

U gh. The cavern with the lava lake.

I scowled at the black rocks, the fire pits peppering the ground, but saved my best glower for the burned woman before me.

“You’re back,” she said dismissively in her fractured, melodious tone.

What a rotten sound.

Ember looked out to the vast lake, humming like she always did. Her patchouli scent hit my nostrils like a nasty stink.

Vehement hatred poisoned my system. I loathed her, and she me. God only knew why, but we were pitted against each other for reasons she wouldn’t tell me.

Screw her for keeping her cards close to her chest. This didn’t really make sense. What was I supposed to do? Take her powers and shove her into the lava? And what did she want in the grand scheme of things?

All I knew, other than hating her guts, was that she’d been burned by love. I’d already placed my bets on King Declan, the missing gargoyle monarch, having something to do with it.

“You must enjoy my company,” she added, turning her green eyes to me.

She spoke with an American accent I couldn’t quite place.

God, she looked like she’d been roasted alive, her body a horrible ruin of charcoal with the odd glimpse of pink flesh within the many crevices.

What a shame the one responsible for this didn’t finish the job.

“More like you called me here?” I retorted, her presence an affront to my existence. “Did you miss me?”

“Why would I want you here, Luke? Or is it Ocean? I like Ocean.” She chuckled at the crappy nickname she’d given me. “More like a puddle against me.”

My teeth clenched, noxious hate stabbing at the roots.

“Ocean it is,” she said.

Ugh. “Believe me, I’d rather make friends with a great white shark.”

“Ooo, please do. I would love to see it bite your head off.”

I snickered, flipping her the bird. “Fuck you. At least I can meet sharks. You’re stuck here, whining about being free.”

Hmmm. Since when did I get so arrogant?

She cocked her head, charcoal lips spreading into a grin. The smoldering embers fissuring across her chest and encircling her heart pulsed brightly.

“My time is coming,” she countered. “Even where my dear enchanters fail, more are ready to step in.”

I’d never known hate like this. And I hated Seth right now. Big time. But this was on a different level, high on the abhorrence scale.

Why?

Ember turned away from me again. “I only want to see your real face, not this specter.”

I might be a metaphysical version of myself, but I still felt very real and at one with the environment. I was sweaty from the crazy heat, the uneven ground rough on my bare feet.

I took a swing at gleaning some information, seeing as her tongue seemed loose. “If you tell me where you are, maybe we can shake hands.”

“The ring brings you here, it seems,” she answered.

“Makes sense, I suppose.”

She touched her chest. “I’ll just have to put up with your visits. It pleases me to know the ring longs to come here. That it desires my freedom.”

She shivered, dipping her head.

I stepped forward, contemplating pressing her on this ring stuff more.

Ember’s shoulders slumped, her posture signifying sorrow.

“Did King Declan do this to you?” I asked.

What was this? Sympathy? A kernel of empathy for this pitiful creature?

She sighed. “Whenever you’re here, don’t speak. I can’t bear your voice. Just be the key. Be the key. Be the key. Be the key.”

Her words swirled inside my head, probing, the ring heating up against my skin.

The key.

I am the key.

I swiped the air as if her words were pesky insects. “I?—”

A rush of hot air hit me, lifting me off the ground, sending me hurtling toward the rocky wall. I screamed, bracing for impact.

Ohmygod!

I shot awake, clutching at my chest. My heart pounded in my ears, chest on fire. Coughing, I choked on air, struggling to get a sense of my bearings.

“It’s alright,” Asher said, his hands on me.

Soothing hands, his voice an aural balm. Immediately, my heartrate came down, everything cooling.

“I’m here.” He smoothed my hair from where he crouched beside me.

I locked eyes with him, gaining control over my breath.

“I’m here,” he repeated.

Sweat smothered my body, my pajamas sticking to me. Moisture ran down my forehead, dripping off the tip of my nose.

“Gross.” I pulled at my top.

Asher rubbed my back. “What happened? Ember?”

I explained the latest visit to the cavern.

“Are you feeling alright?” He checked me over like the sweetie pie gargoyle he was. “Other than sweaty?”

I nodded. “She’s not getting her hands on me or this ring.”

His features darkened, shadows swimming in his eyes. “Got that right.” He leaned in and kissed me, slathering on more of his special Asher balm.

I could lose myself in you… I was losing myself in him. Markings might be allocated randomly to gargoyles and humans, but the romantic hands of fate had been involved in this one.

He was here to protect me, to touch me, to…

“Shower time,” I said, pausing my merry spiral into the sparkly side of our relationship.

He raked a hand through his raven-black hair, the streaks of metallic silver catching the light.

“Sorry,” I whispered, torn over asking him to join me.

I stretched my arms over my head, letting out a yawn. “I don’t think I’m in the mood anymore.”

Damn her. Asher gave amazing head.

“Yeah, probably not the best time for BJs.”

Although I giggled playfully, my horniness had officially left the building. The weight of fatigue hung from my limbs, and the reality of the evening came to slap me hard across the face.

Those tongueless enchanters had tried kidnapping me. I let that sink in as my feet shuffled me toward the kitchen.

“Oh, God…” I lost my balance, grabbing a dining chair before my face greeted the floor.

Kidnap. Steal. Take me to my death.

Oh. My. God. Dread joined the weight in my limbs.

A tangle of panic strangled my chest, anxiety rioting through me. I bit down on my bottom lip, struggling to curb the rush of emotions.

“Luke!” Asher was on me, steadying me.

“I’m…” I wanted to be okay. I wanted to throw up some defenses against the battering tide. To be strong, to draw on the determination that got me this far, that always helped me stay on course in my fight for Finn. Being a man caught between grief and hope never diminished the latter.

Ever.

Never give up.

Never give up.

Never give up.

But my walls crumbled, letting the flood in.

“I can’t…” I turned to face the gargoyle. “I can’t do this. I can’t be this thing, this key.” Tears welled, breaking free and running hot down my cheeks. “I can’t…I can’t…I could have died and been…”

A surge of sadness buckled my knees. I tumbled into Asher, burying my face in his chest. I clung to him in desperation, sobs tearing out of me in a violent escape.

He held me as I wailed.

“I can’t be this thing! I can’t be this thing!”

Asher tightened his hold, wrapping me in his protective aura.

If those bastards had succeeded, Finn would be alone in the world, his one hope extinguished.

I didn’t count our parents as being part of that hope. They just languished in their sadness and hatred for me, blaming me for Finn. Fuck them. Fuck their rejection, always putting me second. No. Not second. Further down the pile, lower than pond scum. Forever critical. Forever disappointed.

I hated the D word. I hated the feeling of letting my parents down. No matter what, I wanted them to be proud of me, even if they never would be. And I wanted Finn to be back here in this lighthouse, sleeping in his bedroom, able to rise in the morning to join me at the table for breakfast and talk about our dream of opening a chocolate cocktail bar—combining my mixology skills with his chocolatier ones to create the hottest venue in town.

Damn. Being this key, this deadly power, heightened the risk of death, of losing all of that. And it tipped me over the edge, everything careening into violent anguish.

I clawed at Asher, trying to find a way out of the spiral, to get back on track. But I was too weak. When sorrow dug its claws in deep, you just had to wait it out until you could find the spark of determination to force it back into the wings.

Twenty minutes later, I managed to stand on my own again.

“Are you alright?” Asher took me by the shoulders, his lovely amber gaze nothing short of dreamy.

I nodded, sniffling, bashful heat in my cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He gave both my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you.”

“I—”

Ice. Broken glass. Poison.

Lighthouse.

I gasped, staggering back, bumping into the dining table. “God…” I clutched my throat, tremors in my veins.

Asher steadied me again.

God. How embarrassing it was to be this weak.

I drew in a deep breath, holding it in for five seconds, and released it.

“Do you need to sit?” Asher asked.

I shook my head. “I need that shower and my bed.” Big sniffle. “I’m really sorry.”

He cocked his left brow at me. “No sorrys here, cutie.”

Ooo, check me out being a blushing, snotty mess. “Stop.” I found a tissue, sorting myself out. “God, the state of me.”

He followed me into the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water, offering him one.

“No, thanks. And you’re not a state. You’re cute.”

I glugged water, Asher the sweetest antidote to any darkness.

“With the sexiest throat I’ve ever seen,” he purred.

Of course, I choked on the water, spluttering all over my kitchen unit.

“Shit. Sorry.” He snorted with laughter.

Was he trying to choke me?

He can choke me with his ? —

No. Not now. It might be a nice distraction, but my wearied body had other ideas.

I dabbed at my face with a tissue, cleaning up the mess, my sweatiness beyond uncomfortable now.

Gross.

“Shower time,” I said, going to move past him.

He blocked me, patting me on my right bicep, smiling softly. “Not before a strawberry cream, right?”

A small giggle rippled up my throat. “Mind reader, are you?”

I stepped around him and found a packet of the chocolate-covered wonders in my snack cupboard, popping it open. I fished one out, hastily peeling back the red foil paper in a familiar, happy ritual before placing it in my mouth, letting its magic wash over me.

Heavenly.

I closed my eyes, biting through the chocolate to expose the fondant strawberry center, the sweetness a soother of the soul. Screw the sugar content. We all needed the right tools to get through life, and these were an important component of my toolbox.

“How is it?” Asher asked.

He wasn’t a fan, which was okay. We were all allowed to be wrong sometimes. I mean, he loved salt and vinegar crisps, so he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

I smiled at him, moaning my approval and offering a thumb’s up.

“Cool. I’m gonna light some candles and focus.”

He lit three lavender candles at various points in my open plan kitchen/living room, the scent quickly filling the room.

Those were some potent candles.

He fetched a shard of rose quartz and sat cross-legged on the living room rug. He closed his eyes, holding the crystal in his left hand, going to his special place.

I envied Asher for finding comfort in crystal healing and candles. He always seemed so at peace when he meditated, drifting away from his baggage. But I guess I just did things differently to make the days easier to swallow. Like snacking on strawberry creams, swimming, listening to jazz, making cocktails, kissing Asher. Sometimes standing outside in the freezing cold.

Dismissing another round of What’s Wrong with My Brain, I popped a second strawberry cream and picked up my phone from the kitchen table.

Oh. Wow. Thirty missed calls from my friend Tom, along with a string of texts.

Tom: Talk to me!

Tom: LUKE! OMG!

Tom: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?

Tom: SHIT! ARE YOU OKAY????????????

Ping! Another came through as I read them.

Tom: LUKE!!!!!!

He called me before I got a chance to hit the green button.

“Hey, I?—”

“Oh, thank goodness!” he yelled. “You’re not dead.”

He didn’t sound like he was at home.

“I’m okay.” I quickly told him what’d happened.

“Bloody hell. Those shitheads. Dane said there was trouble.”

Wind whistled down the line.

“Dane said? Did he call you?”

A pause, a clearing of the throat. “He was over at my place playing Mario Kart .”

“I see.” Interesting. Dane had eyes for Tom, and I wasn’t sure if Tom knew that.

I banked this new fact for later, to see if things would develop between them.

Good for Tom if things did go somewhere. Seriously good for him. He deserved so much happiness.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re not hurt,” he added.

“Where are you?”

“In a cab on my way to you.”

He didn’t live too far away, but who would want to walk here in this storm?

“There’s no need to?—”

“I’m almost there. I need to check your status for myself. Not that I don’t trust your word, but I like to get visuals.”

“I can video call to show you.”

He laughed. “No.”

What a lovely friend to make this effort. There was a reason we were put together. But it did mean no bed for me just yet.

Oh, well. It wasn’t like I had work tomorrow, thanks to Seth.

I went to the window, pulling back the curtains to see headlights coming down the peninsula road. “You really don’t?—”

“Don’t even try telling me I don’t need to come. You’re never alone, remember?”

“I wasn’t alone. Asher’s here.”

He huffed. “Playing his part, and now I’m playing mine. Is Maren there?”

“Not tonight.” I hadn’t seen my mermaid mote spirit friend since yesterday morning.

“Hope she’s okay,” Tom said.

“Me too.” Sometimes she disappeared for a few days, so there wasn’t any reason to worry.

“I can see you.” I waved, catching sight of his face in the windscreen on the passenger side.

“Hellooooooo! I’m waving back.”

“I can see. Hhhhiiii!”

He laughed. “It’s great hearing you laugh.”

“Aw, you big softie. I’m hanging up in a second.”

“Rude.”

“But you’re almost here.”

“That doesn’t matter. Stay on the line. Please.”

I stayed, watching the car pull up. I couldn’t really send him on his way. Fine. Sleep over time.

“I’m coming to the door,” I said.

“Get that kettle on. I’ll provide the cake.”

“Bit late for cake, isn’t it?”

“Dearest Luke. It is never too late for cake.”

He knew all about the importance of cake, seeing as he conjured them from thin air.

“Tom’s here,” I told Asher, hurrying to the door at the same time Tom screamed my name.

A tongueless human barreled into me, sending me crashing to the floor.