Only the Lost Read online

Page 11

“You’re a member of our family now, so you’d have to participate. Are you up for that?”

  “I might be.”

  THE MARKET HE’D PICKED WAS CUTE. I’d driven past the building several times and ignored it because the exterior was rundown. I assumed the inside was the same. I was wrong.

  “I love this place,” I enthused as I filled my cart with fresh produce. “It’s awesome.”

  Braden chuckled as he moved around me, ignoring the tomatoes and asparagus and going straight for the display of chocolates. “If we’re going to have regular sleepovers at your place, you’ll need better food. I can’t have a tomato for a midnight snack.”

  “You should start eating healthier. Given the way your father shovels unhealthy foods into you, you’re going start spreading at the middle once you hit thirty-five if you’re not careful.”

  Braden’s face was full of mock outrage. “I’m going to be trim and studly my entire life. You’ve seen my father. He still sends tongues wagging.”

  That was true. Cormack was a stellar male specimen even though he ate just as poorly as his children. There was every possibility his metabolism would pass on to his children ... just like his looks. I didn’t say that to Braden, though. I didn’t want to encourage him.

  “You know what we should do?” I was delighted when I saw the bin of fresh okra. “I should cook some gumbo for you. Do you like gumbo?”

  He followed my gaze and nodded. “I’ve only had it a few times but I was a fan. I don’t like grits.”

  “Grits aren’t in gumbo.”

  “I’m well aware of that, smarty.” He lightly flicked the spot between my eyebrows. “I’m just explaining that if you’re going to start cooking — and you totally should because a woman’s place is in the kitchen — that I don’t like grits. I know shrimp and grits are a southern thing. I like the shrimp fine. The grits, not so much. They taste like ass.”

  I shot him a dark look. “How do you know what ass tastes like?”

  “I have brothers. They did gross things to me growing up ... like wipe boogers on my arm and fart in my face. I’m pretty sure I’m comfortable making the comparison.”

  He made me laugh. It was only one of the things I liked about him. “Your poor sister. Did you fart on her, too?”

  “Of course. She wanted to be one of the boys. She was fine with it. Oddly enough, we were not allowed to fart on Jerry. He was far too finicky and would completely melt down if we tried.”

  I could see that. “Anyway ... back to the gumbo. I kind of want to cook for you now.”

  “Then cook for me.” He slipped his arm around my waist and kissed my temple. “I’ll never argue if you want to wait on me hand and foot.”

  I pinched his flank. “You are a total pain. I’m not waiting on you. I’ll cook, and you’ll do the dishes.”

  He made a face. “We should really consider getting you a maid.”

  “We’ll muddle through.” I started collecting ingredients and he disappeared into the interior aisles. When he returned five minutes later, his arms were laden with junk food, to the point my stomach hurt just looking at it. “What’s all this?”

  “Midnight snacks,” he replied without hesitation. “We need all of this to survive the night stranded on the island together.”

  “It’s not as if we’re facing the zombie apocalypse.”

  “If we were, we’d head straight to Grimlock Manor. That place is so stocked we could ride it out for years. Plus there’s a full bar.”

  He had a point. “What is all this stuff?” I was curious as I watched him unload items into the cart.

  “Swiss Rolls from Little Debbie. Salt-and-vinegar potato chips. I got the kettle kind because they’re my favorite. I probably should’ve asked if you preferred regular chips.”

  “Kettle cooked is fine.” I furrowed my brow. “We’re going to go into a sugar coma. You got Red Vines, peanut M&Ms, Rice Krispies treats and beef jerky. That’s a weird combination.”

  “I have a refined palate.”

  “This is the sort of food children eat when their parents leave them alone for a few hours.”

  “And your point is?” His smile was impish. “We’re without parental supervision tonight. We should live it up.”

  He was too geeked to deny. “Okay, but I’m not going to stay up all night entertaining you when the sugar kicks in. I’m going to bed at a decent time like a good girl.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

  I was nervous when I dished out the gumbo. I’d used my grandfather’s famous recipe, but cut down on the spices a bit. I could handle the heat, but Braden was used to blander food. I didn’t want him up all night with heartburn.

  A spoon clutched in his hand, Braden sent me a searching look. “I haven’t tasted it yet.”

  “Oh, right.” I remained standing, my gaze expectant.

  “Sit down,” he instructed, shaking his head. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “I’m going to love it.”

  “You don’t know that.” Something occurred to me. “If you don’t like it I don’t want you pretending otherwise. I would rather you tell me the truth.”

  “I’ll tell you the truth.” He averted his eyes at the last second when he delivered the line. I knew he was lying.

  “You will not. You’ll say you like it regardless.” I felt defeated. I sank into the chair across from him and frowned. “I was so excited to cook for you.”

  Instead of being sympathetic, he looked exasperated. “Hey, I haven’t even tried it yet,” he complained. “You have to take a breath.”

  He studied me for a long moment once I fell silent. “Why are you suddenly so manic about this? I’ve never seen you react this way. Before you would’ve been all, ‘I don’t care if you like it’ or even ‘You’ll like it or I’ll kill you.’ This self-conscious Izzy isn’t the woman I fell for.”

  The simple statement was enough to shake me out of my doldrums. He had a point. “I have no idea why I’m so nervous.” That was the truth. “You’re right, though. It’s not like me. I’m feeling ... out of sorts. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. Everything that’s going on has me thinking about fate. Do you ever think about that?”

  He shrugged, noncommittal. “I guess I think about it ... not very often. Fate is one of those things that I’m not sure I believe in.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Your mother’s soul found the strength to come back at the exact right time to keep your sister safe. Thanks to that, your sister managed to keep you from falling to your death. You don’t think fate had a hand in that?”

  He looked troubled. “I don’t like thinking that my mother’s death was predestined, and if I believe in fate, then I have to believe that there was absolutely nothing that could’ve changed the outcome. I prefer believing that we can change fate. Otherwise, what’s the point in trying to be a better person or saving the people you care about? If everything is already determined, why try at all?”

  It was a defeatist concept and yet I understood. “I never really thought about it that way.”

  “Believe what you want. I choose to believe that I can affect my reality ... and my happily ever after. That still doesn’t explain why you’re so manic about the gumbo.”

  “My father was an outstanding cook. He learned from my grandfather. I guess I wanted to be able to say I inherited something from them.”

  “Why?”

  “Your father and I were talking about what he would do if he was one of the people who had disappeared through the gate, whether he would allow the council to keep him separated from his family if he were in the same position. It got me to thinking ... probably more than it should have. You’re right, though. That’s not me. I’m just letting things get to me when they shouldn’t.”

  “I think we’re all doing a lot of thinking. No one wants to die — least of all me — but I almost think it would be better than what’s happening with these guys. I mean ..
. they went away for five minutes and came back to find that sixty years had passed. The people in their lives had no idea what happened to them. None. They hoped, dreamed and prayed for a miracle. Then they gave up only to find years later, years after they’d moved on, that their miracle happened ... but at a time when it was too late to enjoy.”

  “They haven’t been informed that a miracle occurred at all. That’s the part that bothers me.”

  “There’s a lot about this that bothers me. It’s too much. All I care about is keeping my family safe. That includes you.”

  I smiled, the emotion in his eyes warming me all over. “That’s a really sweet thing to say.”

  “I’m a really sweet guy.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Eat your gumbo. You’re going to love it.”

  Eleven

  He did indeed love the gumbo. He had three servings and only one Swiss Roll. We fell into bed early, into each other seconds after that, and into sleep well before midnight. I slept soundly ... until an alarm started ringing in my ear.

  “Is that the fire alarm?”

  Braden shifted next to me, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “That noise. Is that the fire alarm?”

  “There’s no noise, Izzy. You’re imagining things. Or maybe you’re dreaming them. Go back to sleep and pick a better dream. I suggest something about me.” He absently patted my head as a form of comfort. “Goodnight.”

  I ran his words through my mind, figured he was right about me dreaming the alarm, and then I bolted to a sitting position. I knew better than to believe it was somehow imagined. “Son of a ... !” I viciously swore and tossed off the covers. “Get up!”

  Braden wasn’t a morning person. He liked his eight hours of straight slumber more than most. That’s why I wasn’t surprised that he was slow to react. “Come back to bed, Izzy. If you’re a good girl I’ll knock you out with my gumbo love again.”

  Under normal circumstances I would’ve smiled. These were not normal circumstances. “Get up!” I wasn’t playing around. “Something is happening, Braden. The alarm ... I’ve heard it before. You’re right. It’s inside my head. It’s a magical alarm of sorts.”

  Finally, he opened his eyes. “What are you saying? Is it the gate?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never alerted over the gate before. It’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

  I FOLLOWED MY INSTINCTS, WHICH led me to my golf cart. I hopped in the passenger seat, allowing Braden to drive, and directed him down the dark streets.

  “That way.”

  “Where are we going?” Braden was no longer sleepy. His alert eyes were trained on the road. “Tell me exactly what you sense.”

  “I don’t know what I sense.” That was true. Even as I reached out with my magic, the thing I brushed against was a void. I didn’t know how to explain it. “There’s something out here. We have to find it.”

  “I’m assuming because you used the word ‘thing’ that you don’t believe we’re dealing with a human ... or a returnee.”

  I hadn’t even considered that. “Oh, um ... huh.” That was stupid of me. Given everything that was happening, it made far more sense that another man had returned from beyond the gate than the notions I’d been entertaining.

  “You’re not leading us back to the aquarium,” he offered, filling in the silence. “You don’t sense it’s one of the returnees, do you?”

  I shook my head. “It feels like something else.”

  “Okay.” He was resolute. “Tell me where to go. When we get there, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t run off half-cocked.”

  “I’ll be fully cocked when I run off. There’s no need to worry.”

  He grimaced. “Izzy, I’m serious. I know you’re strong and capable, but I want to be with you. If something happens ... .” He trailed off. I imagined he was thinking about our conversation over dinner.

  “I won’t disappear on you, Braden,” I reassured him. “I promise.”

  “I still want to be with you.”

  “I’m not going to stop you. Just ... chill.”

  Braden exhaled heavily and I had the distinct impression that he was trying to maintain his temper. I couldn’t focus on him, though. I had to follow the warning signal in my head. “Turn here,” I gestured when we were almost on top of another road.

  Braden extended his hand to make sure I didn’t inadvertently fall out of my seat as he took the turn hard. Then he put his foot on the gas pedal and pressed it to the floor. “Where are we even heading?”

  I’d been asking myself that exact question. “It must be the old sawmill.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “What old sawmill?”

  I fell back on my training. “It was built in 1905. It hasn’t been used in years. There’s talk of renovating it.”

  “I’ve visited Belle Isle a million times since I was a kid. I’ve never seen a sawmill.”

  “Then you’re in for a treat.”

  His expression was dubious, but he didn’t speak again. Perhaps he sensed the danger now, because he killed the headlights on the golf cart as we approached the ramshackle building. He hit the brakes and shut off the engine a hundred feet from our goal.

  “I think we should call for help,” he said suddenly, his eyes keen as they scanned the overgrown expanse. “I don’t like this at all.”

  “It will take people too long to get out here,” I countered, climbing out of the cart. “It’s fine. We don’t know if anything is even out here.”

  He grabbed my wrist before I could move too far away. “Oliver is on the island. Brett, too. Those weird merfolk are always hanging around. We don’t have to do this right now.”

  On that he was woefully off the mark. “We do. In fact ... .” I sensed movement rather than saw it and swiveled quickly.

  “Behind you!” Braden bellowed, abandoning his reticence and hopping to his feet. I could hear the soles of his shoes pounding on the ground as he raced to my aid.

  The only available light came from the moon, which was big and new. I could still make out the creature’s features ... and it was monster rather than man I was dealing with.

  It was huge. It had to be almost seven feet tall. Broad shoulders ran directly into a misshapen head. There was no neck. I couldn’t see a nose, which briefly had me wondering how it breathed. It boasted huge red eyes. They almost glowed, and it let out an unearthly scream as it reached for me.

  “Izzy!” Braden was there in an instant, shoving me out of the way in an effort to take on the creature himself.

  A lot of thoughts went through my head as I tumbled to the ground. The first was that he was willing to sacrifice himself for me, which was simply unacceptable. The second was that the creature had wicked blood-red claws to match its eyes and they were heading for Braden’s throat. The third was that I was about to lose something very important to me and my heart ached at the thought.

  I reacted out of instinct and ignored the disoriented feeling washing over me when I hit the ground. Instead of giving into the confusion, I unleashed a torrent of magic from my fingertips. Braden stood between me and the creature, but I didn’t allow fear for his well-being to overtake me. Instead, I aimed the magic and prayed it wouldn’t let me down.

  “Duck!” I screamed, just to be on the safe side.

  Braden’s reflexes were strong and he did as I commanded. His head slipped lower and the magic barreled over the top of him, smacking into the creature’s chest with a sickening thwack.

  My body ached, my head hurt, and yet I prepared myself for a second magical barrage. I didn’t see that I had a choice. The creature glared at me, another roar escaping. I delivered another crushing blow, putting my own anger and fear into the spell as I desperately tried to keep us safe. This time when the magic collided with the creature, there was an explosion of sorts and sparks flew in a million different directions.<
br />
  The creature screeched again before falling silent. The red eyes widened, but all movement ceased. And then, slowly, it toppled backward. Those miserable eyes were vacant as they stared at the night sky. It didn’t move again.

  It took Braden a moment to regain his senses, and then he scrambled to me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded as I wiped the back of my hand against my forehead. “I’m awesome.”

  The look he shot me was dubious. “How are you really?”

  “My back and butt hurt from the fall. Otherwise, I’m okay.”

  “I’ll rub both for you later.” He hooked his hands under my arms and tugged me up. “We need to call for help. There might be more of them.”

  I didn’t believe that. I would know. That didn’t mean help was a bad idea. “Place the call. I’ll be okay.”

  Frustration lit his brilliant lilac eyes. “You and I are going to have a talk about self-preservation later. You’ve been warned.”

  He was stern enough that I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “We definitely are. What were you thinking charging in front of me?”

  “I was thinking that you were in trouble and I had to help.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. I guess we’re a good couple, huh?”

  It was obvious he was annoyed, but he managed a wan smile. “The best.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “This is un-freaking-believable. My father is going to have kittens.”

  I couldn’t wait to see that.

  GRIFFIN AND CORMACK CAME TOGETHER. They both looked disheveled, as if woken from a deep sleep, and I instantly felt guilty. Braden was another story.

  “At least you didn’t wear your pajamas,” he groused to Griffin, whose shirt was on backward, his hair standing on end.

  “I sleep naked,” Griffin replied. “That’s what I was … naked … when you called. So was your sister.”

  “Don’t make me kill you,” Cormack warned, his eyelids heavy. “I don’t have much energy, but I can manage that.”

  “You’re the one who volunteered to take Lily duty two nights in a row,” Griffin pointed out. “We didn’t twist your arm.”

 

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