Pickup Styx (27 page)

I ran my hand down her silky hair. “What about you? What happened?”

Her face hardened into an expression I never wanted to see on her again—a mixture of pain, despair, and determination. “I learned a lot about myself.”

I cupped her cheek in my hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

She slowly relaxed. “You were there. I carry you everywhere with me.” She put a hand over my heart. “I do have good news though.”

“Excellent. I think we both could use some.”

She glanced around to make sure we were alone. “You’re going to be a father.”

My battered heart filled with joy that couldn’t be contained. I picked her up and twirled her around, making her glorious laugh ring out. As soon as I set her down, questions started flowing through my mind so fast I couldn’t finish a sentence. “How do you. . .Are you sure. . .What about. . .”

She burrowed into my chest. “Frost told me. She said she knew as soon as she touched me, and she had to keep a tight hold on both of us while I was gone. She couldn’t even go pee.”

Now I understood why she wouldn’t leave Selene’s room. We owed a lot to Frost. Whatever happened to her in the cemetery, we would find her and bring her back. “But you’re sure everything is okay now?”

She nodded. “I called Olivia and she popped by. She said she’s fine.”

“
She’s
? We’re having a
daughter
?”

Selene smiled and nodded. I pressed my hand to her stomach and knew a love and fear like I had never known before.

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Something soft fluttered across my face, and a glow I had come to know as homemade colors swirl behind my closed eyes. I couldn’t have been asleep more than twenty minutes. I stifled a tired groan and didn’t open my eyes.

“What are you doing?” My voice sounded thick with sleep even to my own ears.

“Counting your freckles,” Olivia said with an amused lilt.

I cracked one eye so I could see her. “I don’t have freckles.”

Her laughter was better than any cup of coffee in the world. “You do. Fourteen of them to be precise.” She kissed me softly, and I wrapped my arms around her—there were worse ways to wake up.

“I missed you last night,” I said. She nuzzled her cheek to mine, but a moment later, she squirmed away and wiggled off the bed. I tried to catch her, but she was too quick.

“No time for that.” She wagged her finger at me with a wide smile. “I have to go to work.” She sounded entirely too cheerful and alert. “Breakfast.” She nodded her head toward the kitchen.

“Tease,” I called after her as she disappeared into a ball of light that rivaled the moon. I sighed happily then closed my eyes again, but I was awake and worry was always quick on the heels of any happiness I ever felt. I had lived too long to not know that joy was almost always followed by disaster. Life had been too good for too long. We were due.

On that cheerful thought, I gave up pretending I’d get any more sleep. My eyes popped open. There was no rest for the wicked and I definitely qualified. I flipped back the covers and pulled on a pair of pants. I was two steps from the bathroom when I felt Liv’s panic.

“Holden,” her voice, struggling to sound calm, rang through the apartment and my head.

I ran for the door, cursing myself for not relocating. It was stupid to have stayed here, no matter what she wanted. She was struggling to hold someone upright.

“Help,” she said.

My run slowed to a walk as I peered around her, taking in the situation now that I knew she wasn’t in immediate danger. It took me a moment to put together that the bloody lump in her arms was Baker. His face was swollen past recognition and thick streams of crimson flowed off him in violent rivers. His left eye bulged and the skin around it was purple and black. His cheek bone glistened from the gash across his check and his clothes were soaked through with sweat and blood.

The only eye he could see out of opened a sliver and his lips cracked into a bloody, nearly toothless smile. “I have a message for you,” he said hoarsely. His eye shut again and it was as if all the bones in his body melted away. I leaned into his midsection and lifted him over my shoulder.

“Lock the door,” I told Olivia as I carried Baker to the couch. He didn’t need to tell me the message. It was loud and clear. This wasn’t over. We were only just starting.

“Holden?”

I looked back at Olivia, who was covered in Baker’s blood, and my heart clenched against fear and memories—weaknesses. I would give anything if I could live the rest of my life and never see her covered in blood again. She had a red smear under her curious, confused eyes, but there was no fear. Olivia never seemed to be afraid of anything, which could be both of our downfalls.

She moved closer and snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. “Holden? What happened? What message does he have? Is this about us or him?”

I glanced at Baker then back to her. “Call Femi. We need help healing him.”

I could feel the stubbornness in her protesting, but she turned to get her cell phone, her mind a silent void. Olivia and I had found a rhythm to the sometimes overwhelming connection we shared. Now if emotions ran too high and there was no danger to either of us, we kept our thoughts to ourselves to save the other from the emotional sucker punch. I sat on the coffee table across from Baker and leaned my elbows against my knees. “Baker.” I jabbed my finger into one of the wounds on his shoulder.

Baker gasped, his head craning up and his back arching. He opened the one eye and hissed, “Fuck.”

“Who was it?”

“Who do you think?” He flopped his head down, breathing hard.

“Names. I want names.” Very welcome rage rooted in my abdomen and shot through the rest of me, numbing those pesky softer feelings. To come after Baker was to come after me. Someone was about to learn that the bloody way—my way.

“Jinn. I don’t know their names.” His voice was fading fast. I let him drift off.

“Start talking, Holden. What do you know?” Olivia stood in the doorway of our bedroom, watching me. No doubt she’d heard what Baker said.

I took my time standing up. She didn’t move to let me through when I approached the bedroom. She lit from within when I put my hands on either of her shoulders and kissed her cheek as I moved her out of my way. “Stay with Baker.” I headed for the closet, feeling Olivia behind me. “It’s probably best if you don’t get involved in this one.”

“He’s my friend too,” she said. “No more secrets. That was the deal.”

I looked back at her. “It’s not a secret. I’m going to kill them. All of them.”

She bit her lip and inspected me, her arms crossed over her chest. Finally she nodded. “I’ll protect him.”

I pulled a black t-shirt over my head and laced up my boots. Olivia wasn’t scared of jinn or demons—probably because she could annihilate most of them without breaking a sweat—but she wasn’t a killer either. She didn’t seek out fights, but she wouldn’t back down if one showed up on our doorstep. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. “Let me know if Baker regains consciousness for any length of time.” I dug out a pair of brass knuckles I hadn’t used in a while and slipped them into my pocket. I was headed for the door when someone knocked. I shot Olivia a look and she stopped in place, her fingers twitching as she prepared for an attack. I waited until she nodded to me. Then I pulled my gun off the bookshelf and answered the door.

“Might want to clean up this crime scene out here, Chuckles, if you don’t want to call attention to yourself.” Femi brushed past me.

Her flippant attitude couldn’t hide the worry coming off of her in waves. I looked in the hallway and she was right. It was gory. Drips and smears of blood led all the way to our door where a small puddle had soaked into the carpet.

“I’ll take care of it. You take care of yourself.” Olivia pressed her lips to mine, and I knew a moment of peace until she pulled back. “I have all of this handled.”

I nodded and left without a word.