Undertow (25 page)

“Fine,” I said plainly.  It was the truth, to a point. I couldn’t figure out whether I was fine or numb.  I really didn’t want to think about any of it. Reflecting on my current state of wellbeing meant reflecting on the past few hours.  I had no desire to think about it. I thumbed toward the stairs behind me. “I’m going to go indulge in your culinary skills and check on Ana.” MJ just nodded and went back to whatever sea-faring activity he had been engaged in.

I walked down the stairs to the galley, just as I had that evening after riding with Raef on the back of his bike. That evening seemed decades ago.

I took a deep breath, controlling the chaotic emotions that were trying to surface. Rage. Pain. Fear. Loss. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, before I rounded the corner into the galley. I could smell the food and hear the clink of a fork against a plate. I tightened my grip on the railing until my palm burned. The distraction allowed me to gain control of myself. “
Confidence jeans,”
I whispered as I pushed myself around the corner.

Ana looked up from the table where she was sitting. She was still wrapped in the red blanket Kian had covered her in and she looked as though she had just recovered from the flu. A small plate of MJ’s creation was in front of her. It actually did look excellent, but she was only taking tiny bites. She looked up at me.

“Hey. You’re conscious,” I said, walking over to her and sitting up on one of the stools near the counter. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by Kian’s ‘Vette. Twice.” She tried a small smile. She did look like she went a few rounds with a hangover.

“MJ said we’ll be docking soon. Maybe twenty minutes.”

“Thank goodness. I am all done with the rocking motion,” said Ana, though the
Cerberus
seemed to barely feel the waves.  She tapped her fork on her plate, “You should have some of this. It’s pretty good.”

I got up and made myself a plate of the chicken parm, then returned to my stool
.

“Did you hear that Raef may have found the buyer?” I asked. She shook her head no. “I guess he followed a lead up to Boston. That is why we’re headed up there. To pick him up,” I said. The thought of Raef filled me with fuzzy warmth. “Kian didn’t tell you when you woke up?”

“I haven’t seen Kian.  MJ brought me down here. He said Kian is piloting the boat due to a difficult navigation. I think it’s BS.  He’s just avoiding me,” said Ana.

“Are you . . .
angry with him?” I asked, trying to figure out her state of mind.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m grateful he helped me even though I don’t remember it, but at the same time it makes me believe all the more he could have saved my Dad. I don’t know. Is it even okay to forgive him?”

“I don’t think it dishonors your father to forgive him. If Kian was just a man, you would never have blamed him, right?”

She looked at me and I knew she understood what I was saying. That it made sense to her, but was still hard to accept. “Would you forgive Raef if he let Mae die?” she asked.

I had no solid answer, “I’m not sure, but I would hope I could understand his decision and from there, either forgive him or not.”

We sat in silence for a while, Ana lost in her own mind, simply playing with her food. I ate slowly as my stomach was still off, whether
from stress or injury I wasn’t sure. Soon I heard men’s voices as the boat’s engine slowed, then stopped. We must have docked. 

Within minutes I heard the glass door to the parlor open and the sound of Kian and Raef arguing. Raef must have been waiting for the boat.  Their argument was brief and I heard footsteps come down the stairs quickly. As Raef app
eared around the corner, a wave of relief washed over me.

He stopped as soon as he entered the galley. “You two okay?” he asked, his eyes trailing over every inch of my body.

“We’re okay,” I said, “Ana took the worst of it.” I nodded toward my friend.

“I’ll be fine,” said Ana and I realized that ‘fine’ could mean a variety of things. Between Ana and I, I could see it becoming our go-to word with about ten levels of “fine.”

She slowly got up, still bruised and stiff. I got to my feet as well, thinking she needed help, but she put up her hand to stop me.

“I am going to take a hot shower. Any chance you grabbed us clothes before you vacated the house?” she asked, looking at me while leaning on the table. She was still weak.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

She waved it off, “Don’t stress, I’ll just steal a t-shirt from Kian.”

Raef cleared his throat, glancing at her almost sideways, “Your clothes from last summer are still in Kian’s room.”

“He kept my stuff?” she asked, clearly floored. Raef nodded.

“Uh, well, that works,” she said, still looking a bit shocked. “Eila, I may have some brand new, um, intimates with tags still on them. And some clothes you can use, it seems.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, slightly wigged out that we were discussing undies in front of Raef. Plus, Kian kept her clothes, which sort of screamed funky fetish.

Ana headed slowly down the hall toward the lure of a hot shower. As she disappeared into the bathroom Raef turned to me, concern and relief radiating from him.

“Raef. I’m okay,” I said, trying to soothe his clearly stressed mental-state and hold myself together.  “Kian said I don’t have a concussion. Really, I’m okay.”

I tried to sound strong but my courage was fraying.  I nearly died. So did Ana. Reality tried to rush into me, like a bitter gust of wind. Raef saw it in my face and crossed the galley, pulling me into his arms in a powerful embrace. It was as if he was trying to absorb my body into his and I would have willingly climbed inside him to hide. Holding me as if he would never let me go again, he rested his cheek on my head.

“Thank G
od you’re safe,” he breathed into my cheek.  He brought his face in front of mine, sweeping my hair back with his strong hands. “I am so sorry you were in danger! Again!” he swore under his breath, clearly angry with himself. “Saints, Eila - I have made so many mistakes . . .”

“It’s not your fault,” I whispered as my arms reached around him, and I pulled his chest to my face. I rubbed my forehead against his soft shirt and his warmth radiated through the fabric, heating my entire body.

Guilt clawed inside me. 

I should have never come to Cape Cod. The chaos we were in was my fault. “This is my doing. I should have never come here in the first place.”

Raef stilled and his breath hitched as his arms tightened around me. “Don’t you dare think that. Ever. I should be able to protect you better than I am. A Mortis nearly killed you!  If he . . . I can’t . . ,” I could feel his body coiled tight with fury, no doubt trying to imagine what went down in my bedroom. “I should have been there. I should have killed him.”

“You’re here now,” I said and his hand drew up my back to the nape of my neck, his fac
e dipping to my collarbone as his breath teased my skin. The sensation lit a trail of fire that ran from my neck all the way down my back. I felt light headed as my body buzzed in response to his hands. Though my reaction could have been my own genetic warning system, I was fairly certain it had more to do with a magnetic need demanded by my body.  I wanted him closer, tighter. I wanted the lines between us to blend into one.

I drew a deep breath to speak, but the sound of someone coming down the stairs made Raef ease his embrace slightly so we could see who was there. He didn’t release me however, as MJ rounded the corner.

He stopped short when he saw us. “Oh! Sorry,” he blurted, obviously feeling as though he tripped into an intimate moment. “I was just going to grab a bite, but I can come back.”

Raef finally let go of me and I was instantly cold. I let my hand drift down his arm and remain in his
fingers for a moment before letting go, “No, no. It’s cool MJ. We were just talking.”

“You, uh, sure?” he said, looking from me to Raef.

Raef nodded in agreement, “Absolutely.” 

I heard more footsteps on the stairs and Kian appeared.  He looked toward me, “Feeling okay?” I nodded as he looked around the galley, “Where’s Ana?”

“Taking a shower,” said Raef.

“Good . . .  I’m glad she is feeling up to it. When she gets out you can tell us what you learned.  That way, we’re all on the same page,” said Kian, almost casually. If he was stressing from Ana cheating death, he was covering it well. Real well.

“I will,” replied Raef. “And Kian, thank you. You too MJ,” he said, looking to each of them. MJ was already making his plate of dinner. He just waved.

“That’s the job,
brother
,” said Kian as he walked down the hall to his bedroom. I just smiled because I knew his selfish persona was just a front. He cared, especially for Ana.  I saw it when he saved her. In fact, I knew he loved her.  Why else would anyone keep an ex’s clothes, except to hope to someday have that person back. Perhaps her clothes were a reminder of what he used to have with her. Perhaps a way to keep her close. Well . . . unless he really did have some twisted obsession with underwear. Ew.

MJ was sitting at the corner table enjoying his meal. He looked up at Raef between bites, “Dying to hear what you found out.”

“Don’t get too excited. It isn’t that much. Certainly not worth risking lives over,” said Raef, looking at me.

I leaned back against the counter, taking a deep breath. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he was there to kill me,” I said, trying to squelch the vision of
my attacker in my room. MJ and Raef looked at me, suspicion on their faces.

“Why do you say that?” asked Raef.

“Because he said that his job was to collect me and the diary, though he did say he
wished
he could kill me. He said he fantasized about it.” A little shiver crawled through me at the memory of his black eyes so close to mine. Raef and MJ looked confused.

MJ pushed his plate away, his appetite no longer so demanding and looked to Raef. “Why wouldn’t he just kill her? And why the diary?” he asked, voicing the million-dollar questions. The idea that I wasn’t just marked to die as quickly as possible seemed irrational.

Raef shook his head. “I have no idea. It makes no sense to leave Eila alive when they had a chance to . . . ,” trailed Raef, unable to physically speak of my potential demise.

Something strange was going on – possibly more twisted than being hunted by immortal soul-thieves who were just out to murder me. Well, okay – maybe not more crazy than the Mortis, but definitely on the same level.

I looked at my two guards, “We need to find that diary. Especially since Bridge Boy wanted it. He was pissed that I didn’t have it.”

“The diary is critical. Dalca was right about that,” said Raef, but then glancing to me with a curious look on his face, “Bridge Boy?”

The door to the bathroom opened and wisps of steam curled out the door. Ana stepped out with a towel wrapped around her lean frame. She didn’t look at us, but instead crossed the hall to Kian’s room, no doubt to unearth her last-year’s clothing.

I was about to tell her Kian was in there, but she shut the door before I could speak. Raef and MJ were still lost in thought and seemed to miss the fact that Ana was in Kian’s room with him. They began discussing where in the house the diary might be and if there was a way to get back in safely. 

I, however, wasn’t really listening.  Instead, I was watching the door to Kian’s room, expecting it to burst open any second and Kian being kicked out. Instead, all remained quiet from his room.

A few minutes passed and Ana finally emerged in a white robe with Kian behind her. The back of the robe had slipped off Ana’s slim shoulder and Kian carefully lifted it back into place. It was such a natural moment between the two of them. Perhaps she had finally forgiven him. Perhaps they had come to peace.

Kian interrupted MJ and Raef as he and Ana reached the galley. “Alright. Let’s hear it. What did you find out?” he said, looking to his un-brother.

“Come on up to the parlor. I’ll show you what I brought,” said Raef, looping a warm hand behind my back as if to guide me. The electricity we shared followed the path of his hand around my hip.

We all headed up the stairs and sat down in various chairs in the parlor.  Raef picked up some papers that had been placed beside the photo book I had brought from the house. He gestured to the book, “What’s that?”

“Just some old photos from the house. I grabbed it in case I never get to go home again.” No one replied. The truth was, they didn’t know whether 408 would ever be my haven again. What was I going to do if I couldn’t go back? What would I tell Mae? A headache played behind my eyes, and I rubbed my temple.

Raef cleared his throat, “Okay, so I had gone to the registry but they said that all paperwork related to any auctions, including 408, were in Boston, so I headed up here.  According to these papers, the house was originally cared for in several trusts since the 1800’s, starting right after Elizabeth’s death. Apparently the home was never lived in after Elizabeth.”

“That’s
strange,” MJ said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s the point of not living in it or making a buck on it?”