Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) (7 page)

Crossing the sweeping veranda and e
ntering the house, Zee says
, “Buns.”

In less
than a few seconds, Buns enters
the foyer. Seeing me dripping wet
,
slung over Zee’s sh
oulder, Buns says
, “What’s up, s
weetie?”

“Buns, tell Zee to put me do
wn!
I have to go stop Russell and Reed from
killing each other,” I explain
frantically, not being able to really
see her because Z
ee is
holding me
upside down by my feet.
I ca
t
ch
a glimpse of her honey blond hair as she
turns
to Zephyr.

“Oh…Brownie,” Bu
ns calls out. S
he put
s
her hand
s
on her hips
as she narrows
her cornflower-
blue eyes
. “They couldn’t do this on the DL, Zee?”
Brownie appears
instantly at Buns’
s
side, looking at us curiously.

Zee shrugs
, “It was coming…
he’s really powerful
now, Reed knew it would come to this.”

“Reed knew
it would come to what?” I ask,
paling.

“Reed knew it wo
uld be a fight for you sooner or
later,” Zephyr replies
.

“BUT, THAT’S RIDICU
L
OUS, ZEE!” I shout
, not being able to contain my anxiety.
“Re
ed doesn’t have to fight for me!
”

“Tell that to Russell. He’s as much an alpha male as Reed and he wants you just as mu
ch as Reed does,” Zephyr replies
.

I cringe
, feeling ill. “Fine, put me do
wn and I’ll go tell him,” I growl
.

“No,” Z
ephyr replies
. “You have to stay here. I will go an
d
make sure that they
do no
t really harm each other. I
just need to make sure you will not
interfere.”

“Why?” I ask
, not understanding why I can’t break up the stupidest fight in the history of fights.

“Because you wi
ll make it
worse, Evie, trust me,” he says
with absolutely no doubt in his tone.

“Here, Zee, put her down. I’ll take care of her while you go referee. Make sure they both
stay in one piece,” Buns states
, taking charge of the situation.
“We need them.”

The blood drain
s
from my face
. Zephyr says
, “I will go referee if Evie promises to stay here until it’s over.”

“Sweetie, tell Zee
you’ll stay with us and he’ll
help,” Buns
urges
.

I pause
, not wanting to promise because
I’m not convinced that they won’t listen to me
if I go down there. Zephyr says
, “Every moment you make me stay here, they are alone together.
”

I groan
before saying, “Okay, I promise.”

Zephyr set
s
me on my feet and is gone before I gain
my balance.

“You’re dripping wet, Ev
ie,” Brownie says
, putting her arm
aro
und my shoulder
s
.

“What’s going to
happen, Brownie?” I ask
as she le
a
d
s
me up the grand staircase that se
ems like something out of
a
Civil W
ar novel.
Buns follows
behind
us looking a little worried.

“I don’t think Zee will let them go t
oo far,” Brownie says
, leading me to her suite of rooms
on the second floor. She brings
me to her bathr
oom, turning on the
shower.

“How far is not too far?
” I ask
, re
f
using to go any further until my question is answered.

“
Reed and Russell both know that we
need
them to fight the Gancanagh. They’re probably just trying to e
stablish dominance…” she trails
off, seeing me blush. “They’re male and they both have angel DNA. I
t was going to happen,” she says
, testing the shower to see if it’s warm enough.

“Why is everything so complicat
ed, Brownie?” I ask
, closing my eyes and putting my hands over my face.

“Because it is,” she replies
. “Take a s
hower. We’ll bring dinner
up here.
”

We eat
dinner in Brownie’s lavish
room. Buns tries
to distract me
from watching
the old pendulum
clock on the mantel
slowly
tick
out the seconds
.
Hours pass
and there
is
no
word from the beach. The rain fa
ll
s
steadily outside, bringing with it loud claps of thunder and brilliant displays of lightning.

“I’m not down for flying lessons in this weather. Ar
e you, Brownie?” Buns asks
,
sip
ping a cup of tea by the fire, h
er golden, butterfly-like angel wings resting
comfortably behind her as she si
t
s
on the
chaise lo
ung
e
.

“Nope…
let’s do something fun,” Brownie
says
, looking
at me from her seat on the bed as her copp
er, butterfly-like wings float
gracefully behind her.

“Like what?” I ask
listlessly from my position on the window seat.
I
pull
at
a
crimson feather of my wing,
st
raining my ears
to hear anythi
ng from the total idiots on the beach
.

“There’s an old jukebox down in the ballroom. Let’s go see
what it has in it!” Brownie says
,
getting to her feet and smoothing her perfectly quaffed platinum blon
d hair as her blue eyes sparkle
.

Buns joins her instantly, looking excited
.
“Sweetie, we learned some amazing
dance moves in London, while we were trying to figure out a way t
o get rid of the Dominion Power angels
.”

“OH
!” Brownie c
himes
in.
“You need to see this! C
’mon, Evie!”

Brownie grasps
my wrist, hauling me out of my seat
,
because
although she’s a Reaper angel
,
like Buns, she’s strong, much stronger than a human.
“Okay
,” I mutter
, feeling like I have to do something before I start crawlin
g up the wall
, which I can actually do now.

Brownie le
a
d
s
the way down the hall. The ballroom is located
in the back of the
house. Entering the large, gilded
room, Bro
wnie flips
on the
light
switch to the rows of crystal chandeliers overhead. Beautiful
,
whitewashed
,
wood
panel
ed
walls with gilded
,
beveled edges face
the
opposing
wall of F
rench doors that ru
n
s
the length of the room. Har
d
wood floors
reflect
the light a
lmost as much as the gilt-
framed mirrors that
adorn
the walls.
Coven ceilings with painted frescos depicting angels at peace
tower
over our heads.
Buns
laces
her arm through mine and
walks
with me to the other side of the room.

“It’s s
o beautiful in here,” I breathe
,
while she depresses
a hidden panel insert in the
back wall. A hidden door opens. Folding it back, it exposes
a room filled with the most lavish items I’ve ever seen. An old
phonograph
stands
on a
n
antique table next to a
not so
ancient
jukebox.

Look
ing
further back in the room,
I spy
dresses of every cut,
c
o
lor
,
and style dating back at least a couple of centuries. Most
of them are swath
ed in clear
garment
bags hanging along the wa
lls.

“This dress would look so good o
n you, Evie,” Brownie says, picking up a silver flapper-
style dress that looks like it
’
s straight out of the roaring 20’s
. “It wou
ld go
well with your gray
ey
es. How tall are you?” she asks
, holding it up to me.

“Uh…five-nine
,” I reply
absently, still looking around at the trunks that
line the walls, but
I’m
distracted from opening any of
them when Buns gi
ve
s
a little squeal of pleasure next to me.

Coming
closer to the jukebox, I peer
through the glass front, seeing an eclectic selection of music from classical to solid gold oldies. “Zee said he hasn’t really used this
house
since the sixties…I thi
nk it shows. Oh! Look! Jerry Lee
Lewis
—
Great Balls of Fire
!” she squeals
, plugging in the jukebox and watching it light up.
Pressing buttons,
the ar
m of the jukebox moves and a record drops
.
T
he pou
nding lyric
s of the song belts
out
something about nerves shaking and brains rattling
.

“SOCK HOP
!” Buns says
, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward
s
the ballroom floor. Showing me dances that s
he must have learned in the fifties, I grin as Brownie joins
in selecting songs by Elvis and ‘
The Big Bopper
,
’ whoever that may be
.

A
fter dancing for an hour, I go
to the French doors, opening all of them to get the cool breeze to filter
in. Looking out at the dark sky I close
my eyes, breathing in the damp, tr
opical air as the rain continues
to pour down outside. Heari
ng another record drop, I wait to hear what Buns will
select next. The haunting strains of a
song I’ve never heard before beg
i
n
s
to fill the room. Feeling
butterflies taking flight in my abdomen, I know that it’s
Reed who just wrapped
his arms around my waist.

“Will you do me t
he honor of a dance?” Reed asks
in a sexy tone t
hat makes
my heartbeat pick up.

“I don’t
know…I’m angry with you,” I reply
, turning around and looking at his perfect face that is
now
marred by a cut on his cheek an
d a split
lip. Biting my
own
lip
at
seeing the marks on him, I
raise
my finger
s gently to his cheek. He closes his eyes briefly as I rest
my hand on his face. Then, taking my hand in his, he le
a
d
s
me to the middle of the ballroom floor. Feeling his hand rest gently
on the small of my back, he begi
n
s
to lead
me confidently around the dance floor
.