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ifeveristoday · 5 years ago

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team Slow Burn/Burn it All Down

“Real monsters don’t announce themselves or present opportunities. Not here. They enter your head, your heart, tear at you from within.” -- Angel, Hellmouth #2

Are we talking about the demons underground or the demon walking around with Angel’s face?

Hellmouth leans heavy on foreshadowing and having unspoken/underlining meanings that differ from the actual words on the page. It continues using elements from Egyptian and Roman/Greek mythos but the main draw of this issue - and I’m assuming the rest of the series, is the reluctant partnership of Buffy and Angel. I don’t agree with the criticism that taking Buffy and Angel away from their respective apocalypses ruins the flow of the overall arcs. It’s a vast story to tell and the pace of the reboots (which is something I have criticized) makes it difficult to include in the main storylines without sacrificing important character development. There are just so many characters, especially in Sunnydale. Jordie’s writing excels at the character and emotional beats rather than plots, and while we have had some great strides in Willow, Xander and Jenny’s personal journeys, there remains some distance from the namesake characters, which I feel like it was intentional to get to the place that Hellmouth occupies.

Love it or hate it, the Buffy and Angel relationship is a huge part of both of their stories and character developments and we’ve had inklings of how Buffy is going to change/possibly wreck Angel’s life in Angel, but he’s remained a shadowy figure in Buffy’s story. Hellmouth changes all of that while retaining some of the original canon’s flaws/trademarks but also poking gentle fun at them.

Spoilers from Hellmouth #2 below the cut.

Buffy and Angel are slightly different from their canon selves - Angel is independent of Buffy’s journey at the very beginning and already has his purpose set in Los Angeles. Buffy is a newly minted Slayer, living with her secret for a whole three weeks before wacky Slayer hijinks puts her in the path of Willow and Xander. Their initial meeting/relationship is reminiscent of the very early episodes of Season 1 Buffy - with a reasonable amount of wariness on Buffy’s part and Angel’s dry/slightly cocky attitude with a 2019 update of their anxieties. There’s also a flip in roles as Angel asks Buffy how she’s feeling and what she wants to do in the future at the start. It’s just the feeling of a connection with no romantic overtones.

The comic recognizes the fucked-upness of Buffy being a child and fighting the forces of evil and sympathizing with her via the character of Jenny. While there is an obligatory nod to Buffy’s desire to be normal, it also makes a point of isolating her from the Scoobies and her frustration at knowing how to be the best Slayer she can be. Giles tells her that he’s to direct her, but not tell her explicitly what she has to do sounds an awful like parents preparing their children for adulthood. There is no handbook. While Buffy is welcomed into Willow and Xander’s circle (and that’s another flip - it is Willow who reaches out to Buffy first and invites her into being social), they’re very much a unit while Buffy sort of floats between their friendship. But I feel due to them being so young, it’s easy to claim best friendship, because - the intensity of feelings and hormones.

This makes Buffy’s character kind of harder to read, and less sunshiney than her OG counterpart. But it’s a shared facade - TV Buffy just hid it better underneath girliness and bouncy hair, while Boom! Buffy is focused, for better or worse to her duty. This is a Buffy that hasn’t quit Slaying before, who gets slightly conflicted guidance from her Watcher and who needs Willow and Xander more than they possibly need her to be a connection to being sixteen. Everyone has their own stuff to deal with.

Hellmouth gives Buffy the spotlight and also drops her into an immediate partnership with Angel. It very pointedly is not a romance - they both get on each others nerves actually, and it inspires A+ bantering while revealing the most of each character so far. Buffy’s venting to Angel (Buffy #8/Hellmouth #1) implies that she’s worried about her friendships and failure to connect, that she’d rather tell a complete stranger this than confide in her friends/Watcher.

Angel listening and not judging shows an immediate empathy for her - and his actions during Hellmouth show a more vulnerable/less closed off Angel. He doesn’t occupy the same caretaker vibe he has with Fred and Gunn that he does with Buffy, namely because Buffy refuses it. She calls him out on trying to be the mysterious weight of the world Loner who takes on all of the responsibilities.

Angel quickly realizes he just can’t be That Guy with Buffy, and it makes his character hilariously resigned/looser in response. He warns her about dangers in the Hellmouth but accepts Buffy’s way is different from his, but that doesn’t make it wrong. He’s willing to admit he might have been wrong about demons being upfront when the slithery shapeshifter demon confronts them - and Buffy’s snarky response “Cool, cool. Won’t rub that in.” lightens the tense moment.

Notably, Angel is the one that gets injured/dragged by the demons while Buffy runs to save him. The fighting sequences are highlighted and Buffy’s scenes, in particular, are very smooth and highlights her Slayer grace. They fight beautifully together and despite their prickly banter, feel a shared responsibility to each other’s well being. Their separate confrontations with the shapeshifter shows their fears - Buffy ‘abandoning’ her family and friends and failing to protect them, Angel seeing the ghosts of the people he’s failed to save. Buffy reacts strongly to how her family and friends need her, while Angel angrily tells the shifter to stay out of his head and that it doesn’t know anything about him. Circling back to Buffy saying she doesn’t know what she wants, the Ominous voice implies Angel doesn’t really know what he’s doing and who he is.

Ah, vague accusations of something evil and upsetting, how I haven’t missed you.

After Angel demands to know who’s blood is needed for the further escalation of Evil Plan, and the Voice doesn’t reply, he immediately realizes Buffy is in danger and runs to find her.

Buffy’s still fighting the shifter and it mentions she could put an end to her family and friends’ suffering with her sacrifice - namely, that her blood will save the world.

While Buffy logically knows that the shifter isn’t her mom (because of course, the shifter would take on the form of Joyce), this emotional blackmail breaks her out of the illusion and she kicks it’s ass. Almost punching out Angel in the process.

Angel is less emotional about his ordeal and Buffy lets him have it again, telling him that it's unfair that she’s the only one being vulnerable - “I opened up because we need to work together, and you haven’t said a thing.”

Instead of being defensive and defaulting to Sir Mopes a Lot - Angel sincerely apologizes and tells her that his fears were also centered around his friends and him not being able to save them in time.

And it’s Buffy’s turn to reassure him/pass on wisdom - she realizes that the Hellmouth wants to separate them to make them weaker and that Angel deserves a little more empathy from her.

THEY’RE COMMUNICATING THEIR FRUSTRATIONS AND CONCERNS WITH EACH OTHER, Y’ALL.

Angel does have a moment of saying, “Silent suffering is more my cup of tea,” and Buffy’s quick response of “And how’s that working for you?” showcase their differences/similarities nicely. Angel despite making friends doesn’t tell them what he’s thinking because he’s used to being alone, Buffy with her very loud opinions isolates herself (un)intentionally because she’s new to Slaying and being a teenager at the same time. They can’t talk to the people who care for them--- but they can talk to each other.

When they face hurdles, they take turns reassuring/pointing out the Obvious Evil, and then a tiny moment - Angel adds onto Buffy’s observation of not getting surrounded by the demon horde by saying, “Just like Thermopylae.”

As with each issue of the Boom!verse, when names I don’t recognize I obviously google them - and Thermopylae is a reference to both the battle of Thermopylae (think the 300 comic and uh, history) and the “Hot Gates,” and is the cavernous entrance to Hades.

Is my theory/wish that there’s going to be Persephone/Hades parallels and Eurydice/Orpheus vibes in this story going to play out? God, I hope so.

Anyway, back to the moment - when they inevitably get surrounded by the demon hordes, Buffy remarks, “Well, there goes thermometer.”

The. Classic. Buffy. Malapropism.

My heart.

Angel gets slashed in the fight, and Buffy worries about him, but there’s a bigger problem -

narrated by the Voice - “Are you sure everything is as it seems? You’ve been wrong before.”

“Blood is spilled...vessels are filled...every pretender killed.”

Shot to Drusilla as Prometheus in chains, spouting some of the worst “Dru-esque” dialogue I’ve read. Sorry Jordie, this is up there with the clunky faux Whedonisms of the early issues.

So Dru isn’t the major Big Bad, but rather the unseen Voice, who we, of course, don’t know.

Is she ultimate sacrifice, the vessel (after all she is of Angel’s bloodline) and oh, Angel Still Hasn’t Told Buffy He’s A Vampire which...

Boo.

All of the voice overs hint that the confession when it happens is going to cause Buffy Big Mad - after all, Angel knows more about her than she does of him, AGAIN.

The art and coloring is stunning as ever in this issue - Carlini really knows how to draw action sequences, and the varying light/color schemes really make the sense of Buffy and Angel descending into the Hellmouth feel vivid and real.

tl;dr I loved this issue and each issue the stakes definitely seem higher. The bantering and a slow reveal of their personalities are also excellent. The foreshadowing/double meanings of the dialogues.

The stuff I don’t like - the Dru dialog at the end, Angel being secretive about his Vampire self.

#hellmouth #thoughts and reactions #reactions and reviews #my review #buffy comics #angel comics #boom! studios #boom! verse #disaster grumpy bats #the ballad of buffy and angel #buffy summers #angel

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fabermemorialrink · 7 years ago

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some mistake, part 3

This part marks the end of what would be chapter one! Still a good handful of sections to upload after this one, but uh I should warn you I probably left off in the middle of writing the most important part, so I hope y’all don’t mind some suspense later on haha. Thanks again for reading!!

So Derek takes Dex’s advice to heart and tries, he really does, and...it kind of works. There are some people in each of his classes that he becomes friendly with, that he can grab a bite with or have study sessions with. And the team has several guys he's pretty close to now. There's Shitty, who’s easy to talk to and shows his support for Derek in his free-spirited, oft-naked way, and Ransom and Holster, who take him under their defensive wing. Ollie and Wicks, Indy and Alph and manager Sierra who treats them all like her out-of-control little brothers.

Derek likes them all but just even being in school drains him every day, over time. There's nothing wrong with any of them, per se, but they're all part of the same system, and it's like a vortex of bleakness that everyone at Andover is caught in. So he goes to class and talks to the tolerable people, and re-learns every single morning how to ignore the intolerable ones, and he goes to practice and bonds with the guys, and when it starts cascading into the always present shadow of pressure and prejudice, he escapes to where he can take a moment, just to be himself without being berated for having the audacity to exist.

He doesn't usually see Dex when he's just meditating in his hidey-hole, his head poking out to rest on the roots and stare up at the treasured glimpses of sky that are revealed to him through the shifting leaves. But he realizes soon enough, shortly before he heads back to the city for Thanksgiving break (because all three of his parents are actually going to be home simultaneously for once) that when he dares to delve deeper, and the woods entangles itself around him slowly and imperceptibly until he's lost in a dark corner again, Dex appears like clockwork to rescue him.

It's an accident at first, just a genuine attempt to try and teach himself more about the outdoors. He read up on camping and shit, and some Thoreau for good measure, but putting what he read into practice doesn't seem hugely successful for Derek. Inevitably, he ends up stranded in the unknown - in the inner ring, as Dex finally tells him one day when they're sitting by a pond Derek's never seen before and eating trail mix he swiped from the dining hall - where his sense of direction fails him.

Dex is nothing if not supremely reliable and strangely, suspiciously, always aware of Derek's whereabouts, so Derek is never left waiting long before Dex storms out to chastise him for endangering himself. Derek still doesn’t get it, because literally nothing seems to live in the goddamn woods except his ginger stalker/self-appointed bodyguard/friend, so he continues to tell Dex to chill and make half-baked promises to not get himself murdered. Dex always does this hilarious hand-clench of frustration when Derek brushes off his concerns, but nevertheless semi-reluctantly puts up with his company until he deems it too dark or too cold for Derek to stay any longer.

Soon it becomes habit to search Dex out whenever Derek's feeling numb. On good days, they get along, talking about the junk they’re interested in. Dex isn’t up to date on the newest shows or movies that Derek likes, but they bond over the nostalgic films of the past, and Derek gives quick and dirty summaries of all the shitty books he’s read on long plane rides. If he exaggerates the inanity of some of the plots, well, it gets a laugh out of Dex, so whatever.

On not-so-good days, at least he has someone he can argue unapologetically with. Sometimes it's important stuff, because Dex is still very much a know-nothing white boy who doesn't understand what Derek goes through on a daily basis. And though Derek still doesn’t actually know much about Dex at all, he does know that Dex thinks he’s too damn rich to understand his hang-ups about buying nice but frivolous things, and dropping more than eight dollars on brunch. So they fight about these things sometimes, but because Derek can’t physically find his way back home without Dex’s assistance, it becomes a forced learning experience for the both of them, to learn to listen to one another without tussling like elementary-schoolers. It works more than it doesn’t, but they’re also both dumbass fifteen year olds who don’t know when to quit, so there are nights that Dex dumps Derek at the field without another word and Derek spends the next day moping in his bed, then moping in his hollow until one of them has enough guts to go and apologize.

And sometimes, their arguments are about whether the pet rock was the best cash grab of all time, or how much money it would have cost to fake the moon landing, or whether it’s a terrible idea for Derek to try a backflip on the ice.

What it comes down to is this: even when they fight, at least Derek feels alive. At least he knows the person he’s talking to cares, about something. They’re not always in sync about how they see the world, but Dex is real in a way the kids at Andover never are, and willing, in his mulish way, to consider Derek’s point of view after a shouting match. And, for all the faces and weird noises he makes, he’s a good listener. Derek practices his public speaking assignment on him and his oral presentation for Spanish; Dex claps in the right places and throws pebbles at him when he’s avoiding eye contact too much. He asks after Derek’s family and his team, and almost always remembers to ask Derek about his games. Derek thinks he probably follows Andover hockey more closely than Shitty’s parents do. Several invitations to their home games have been extended, but Dex always apologizes before turning them down.

Derek doesn’t put it into words until the day Dex sets him to work gathering herbs “for reasons” and they’re sitting in the dirt and fog picking through weeds and chirping each other about their bad hand-eye coordination. Derek has mist in his face and there’s soil caked under his nails from digging up tiny sprouts and silvery roots, but it’s been the best part of his day by far.

“How’d you get dirt on your nose?” Dex asks when Derek delivers another handful of shoots to him.

“Just living that natural life, Dexy.” Derek swipes at his face with the back of his hand, but from the look that crosses Dex’s face he’s not finding much success. He makes another attempt with the heel of his palm this time.

“No, you- there’s even more now,” Dex says irritably. He reaches up, as if to brush the smudge away himself, but aborts the motion halfway and digs him hand harder into the ground instead.

Derek grins, and tries again. “Did I get it?” he asks as he deliberately streaks dirt from the bridge of his nose across his cheek. The corner of Dex’s eye twitches as he fights with himself, until Derek slowly and deliberately digs up a solid handful of muck, ready to plaster it to his own face.

Dex dives for him as he brings his hand up in slow-motion, flattening him to the ground as they battle over Derek’s hand.

“You’re a literal child, I swear to god,” Dex hisses, wrestling Derek's arm in place long enough to smear most of the dirt off.

“Lots of adults enjoy the rejuvenating properties of a mud mask, bro.” Derek pats his cheeks gently with what's left of the soil on his hands, and offers the remainder to Dex. “Give it a try. Refreshed skin will bring out your freckles more.”

“Why would I ever want that.” Dex has to pin Derek’s arm down with his shoulder to protect his face.

“Seriously? People would kill for the Look you got going on, dude.” Dex’s eyes narrow when he hears the capital L, but Derek continues. “You're like a concept painting of autumn. All gold and red and orange.”

“What does that even mean, you weirdo?” Dex groans into the dirt as he rolls away from Derek, ending in a patch of brambly leaves that stick in his shirt.

“It means you’re beautiful inside and out. Own it.”

“Were you put on this earth to torment me?”

“Maybe! Aw, that's cute. Like we were made for each other.”

“What.”

“Well, like, if I exist just to annoy you, and you exist to be my bff, then it's kinda like we were made for each other, right?”

“Wait- are we even having the same conversation right now?” Dex asks, confused. He bounces up like a pop-up book insert to give Derek his classic squint of suspicion. “Who's what now?”

“You’re my best friend, Dex, is what I’m saying,” Derek tells him, smiling at him sideways from where he's still tipped over into the mud. This is what it should feel like, right? This comfortable, unfiltered ease that Derek has grown used to in Dex’s presence. No pretenses, no fear of letting his chill slip or his anger surge. Derek is Derek, and Dex, even with all his secrets, is Dex, and that's all they need.

“Oh. That’s not where I thought this was going. Are you sure?” Dex asks, scratching awkwardly at his hair tucked under his cap. He cut it recently, choppy and slightly uneven; Derek suspects he may have done it by hand himself. Hopefully not with the hatchet. He seems to be in disbelief, so Derek solves the problem the only way he knows how: by being extra annoying.

“No, actually, now that I think about it more, I don't know if I can be friends with someone who’s afraid of barbershop quartets.”

“Oh my god, I'm not afraid of them, I just think the striped vests are fuckin’ weird! And the hats, too, Jesus. It's creepy, okay?”

“You are legit the strangest dude I know. You scared of 90s boy bands too? Leather pants, frosted tips?”

Dex undergoes a deep, full body shudder of disgust, visibly trying to shake the memory off himself. “Quit it, Nursey-”

“Matching track suits! Bandanas and denim overalls!”

“I don't understand how the hell we’re still friends,” and Derek’s smile must be embarrassingly real, because Dex flushes that nice shade of red he gets when he's flustered but not angry, and half-heartedly gives Derek a “yeah, okay, me too,” which, in the current flow of the conversation is a non-sequitur, but Derek gets it.

When it draws close to six, Dex packs up his basket and walks Derek back out, even though Derek has got a pretty good handle on navigating the outer ring by now, where the forest isn't yet labyrinthine and dim. Like always, he halts at the edge, but this time, he stops Derek with a hand to his arm, his skin warm despite the biting coldness in the air.

Dex is about to say something, but Derek word vomits on him before he can speak up. “You wanna come visit my dorm? We could watch Netflix, eat stale pop tarts.” It's such a fantastic proposition that Derek is surprised Dex doesn't immediately begin heckling him.

“Sorry, but I, uh, also gotta get home. Besides, you know they'd never let me into your prep school dorm room. Blue collar cooties,” he says with the sort of uncasual shrug that says he's accepted long ago there are places he isn't meant to go.

“I can't believe you just used the word cooties in a sentence,” Derek says, trying to lighten the mood, because even he's more than willing to sneak Dex in, doesn't mean his friend wants to go. He probably wants to keep their lives compartmentalized. They can share the woods; everything else is off-limits. That's okay. Derek can handle that.

“Some of us have to make do with our dollar store vocabulary.”

“I didn't say I didn't like it. You have the best cooties,” Derek says solemnly and clasps Dex’s shoulder.

Dex shakes him off, but cracks a smile, so it's a solid win. “Shut your face, Nursey. You know I wouldn't fit in with those guys. You'll just have to bring your pop tarts here. Not the laptop though; electronics don't work right in the woods.”

Derek swallows thickly, suddenly overcome with this invitation. It's new. Dex almost always sees Derek off with a demand that he watch his back and stay in school, like some kind of twisted after-school special. He never makes any indication that he actually wants Derek to visit, though Derek’s learned enough of his tacit signs by now to know that Dex doesn't mind his company. “Yeah? What flavor?” he asks when he unties his tongue.

“Wild berry. Extra stale.”

“I'll open a pack and leave it in my math binder for a week.”

Dex must remember that Derek avoids even touching his math materials if he can, because he laughs, and gives Derek a little shove closer to the field. “I'm counting on it. Hey, we need to make some ground rules though.”

“Rules? Like the name prohibition.”

The first couple of times they ran into each other again Dex had reiterated the ironclad importance of Derek never, ever uttering his name while in the woods. Dex nods now, relieved that Derek’s been bludgeoned with that information until it stuck.

“Right. Never tell anyone your name; that’s the most important one. Rule number two: don't trust anyone you meet in the woods. Got it?”

“Uh, what's that supposed to mean? Didn’t I meet you in the woods?”

Dex makes a complicated face and a jerky, ambivalent motion with his hand that Derek does not understand at all. “There's just some strange people in here sometimes,” he says, still hedging around something. “Be wary around them. If they ever try to make you break rule number one, get the fuck outta there. Even if it’s me, okay?”

What? Why would Dex ever…”Okay? If you say so?” What’s Dex afraid of? Brainwashing? Doppelgangers? Clones??

“Promise me, Nursey,” Dex says intensely, gripping Derek’s elbow tight. “I might not always be around to watch out for you.”

Derek must look too hesitant still, because Dex pinches his arm and he lets out a yelp. “Alright, chill, Dex. I promise.” Then, narrowing his eyes, he ventures to ask, “Is this a cult thing? ‘Cause my parents know people. We can help.”

“It's not a cult thing. And if it were, it’s not like I’d admit it.”

“Hmmmm.” Derek looks around, giving the woods a leery once-over, before leaning in to hiss, “Blink twice if they’re watching us. Blink three times if they’re holding you against your will.”

Dex stares at him for a few seconds before blinking deliberately twice (!), then a few more times for a total of five. Derek’s brain flies into overdrive as he tries to decipher this. Is it five as in two plus three? Is he giving Derek a signal? Or is he just messing around?

While he dithers over this, Dex purses his lips and blows a sharp stream of air right into Derek’s eyes. He recoils, clutching at his face.

“Ow, what the fuck, Dex!”

“That’s enough cultist bs for one day. Time to go home, Nursey. Walk slowly; wouldn’t want you to trip on literally nothing again and ruin your pretty face, city boy.”

“Ha ha,” Derek grouses, still rubbing his eyes. He’s well aware of his bad skin and awkward legs. Dex doesn’t need to rub it in. “D’you practice those lines on the squirrels before you try them on people?”

“Don’t be dumb. You ever seen a squirrel around here?” Dex snipes back, but the corners of his eyes crease in a smile and he mutters, “I practice on the trees.”

Derek is still laughing as Dex shoves him out onto the field toward home.

#nurseydex #nursey #dex #omgcp fic #some mistake #nursey's parents are a beautiful loving poly triad if that was not made clear yet

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an-avid-reader · 5 years ago

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Onyx (Lux #2) - Jennifer L. Armentrout

my rating: 4/5 stars

**since this is the second book in a series, the synopsis below is for book 1:

After losing her father, Katy and her mom move across the country to West Virginia. With her luck, Katy's new neighbour is pleasing to the eyes...maybe even abnormally so. But that's not all, this town has it's secrets--maybe that's just how small towns are. Little does Katy know that her new neighbours Daemon and Dee are more than they appear to be. As Katy is swept into Daemon and Dee’s lives, she quickly learns that they are aliens; as she spends more time with them, Katy has an aura which makes her a target to other aliens. Paradoxically, Katy must be protected by the twins while also losing the aura before she gets killed.

Note: this review is written after rereading the book

Link to Goodreads // book 1 // Spoilers in review!

First off, I feel like I need to start off by saying if you’ve got a lot of time on your hands/you want to binge-read a whole (semi-light hearted???) series in one go, this is the one for you. The second book in this series starts off a few months from the first book, so if you have an incredibly bad memory, a book marathon is the way to go y’all.

And, like in book 1, we start off with some heavy romance, which, in retrospect, I’d be shook if ANY human in secondary school was able to have such deep emotions towards another person--being a teenager is just a weird part of life and I honestly have no idea how people can honestly get into relationships. ANYWAYS, the classic love triangle commences is introduced, with good ol’ Blake….ahhh what an idiot this boy is. Since this was a reread for me, I only remembered fragments of the series, but I 100% recalled that Blake was just so NOOOO and a goddamn snake.

I actually want to start off with Blake and how much of a traitor he is--like damn, there are so many layers to the story and the fact that it’s all kind of Blake’s fault….big yikes. But then again, I feel like he never got a proper childhood, if that makes sense?? He did suspect that the accident that led him to be mutated by Chris was probably staged, which sucks, but also does not make up for how much pain he’s caused to Katy and anyone that was in the same situation as her. Listen, the fact that he didn’t realize how he was hurting Katy just goes to show how much of a shitty person he is--it’s almost like he can’t think for himself, which is also just so fusterating. LOOK BLAKE, NOT EVERYONE LOVES THE THRILL OF A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE MULTIPLE TIMES. Alas, he was a necessary evil, I guess.

There were times throughout the book where I couldn’t believe that Katy could continue to fall for Blake’s tricks, but then again she fully trusted him--big yikes. I feel like in this case, it was emotion (or better yet her feels) that got in the way of her judgement. Side note: I don’t think anyone who’s read these books could possibly think that Blake and Katy are a better couple than Daemon and Katy. Daemon can be an ass but at least he isn’t trying to hurt people emotionally and physically (and that’s the tea, folks). But anyways, I will say that Blake is super shady, but honestly, I completely forgot that he’s related to Vaughn….oops?? I’m a little surprised that Katy didn’t look up Blake earlier as she saw him as a “potential future prospect”, but then again, she might not have connected the dots--or at least pull the WHY DOES THAT NAME SOUND FAMILIAR and then before you know it, all hell is breaking loose.

But let’s backup...to Katy’s 18th birthday (again, yiiikes….). I have no idea how Katy’s powers were not spotted by human witnesses--especially Lesa and Carissa. How were they kept in the dark (and technically they still are) when Katy was almost always with them?? We’ll never know….well actually, Katy’s just really good at keeping secrets I guess…It was so frustrating how Daemon and Katy were keeping everything away from Dee, but they had her best interests in mind. But man, that led to Katy being a crappy friend to Dee, Lesa, and Carissa…it’s almost like Blake’s personality grew onto Katy (g r o s s). Not to mention with Dee sharing some tmi stuff with Katy--but to be honest, after reading Shadows I can understand why Dee is so thrilled to talk about that with Katy--she never had those types of girl talks with anyone (and I’m sure she doesn’t want to talk about it with Ash lmao).

Those little details -- along with Katy’s blog, the fact that Katy just wants to have fries (relatable lol), it just makes the book so much more “believable” (I guess) as it puts in some normal-type things among all the paranormal activity. I really appreciate those details as they also make the story a little more relatable, if that makes sense??? As a bookworm, I can connect with Katy, but I can also connect with her in the sense where she felt useless during the action-packed scenes. You can definitely feel the frustration and anger when Katy is unable to defend herself under Will’s captivity--I feel like that’s where Blake’s betrayal stung a little (besides him killing Adam)--she trained so much with him, and in the end it’s like she didn’t really learn anything.

For the side characters I wanted to mention: Will, Katy’s mom, and Matthew. Okay, so first, Will, I already had a suspicious feeling about him in Shadows but, again, this particular book is a reread for me, so while I didn’t remember the exact details, he was always super fishy. When I was reading Shadows I remember thinking something along the lines of “Bethany’s uncle is super weird and suspicious”, but for some reason “implant” was not what I was thinking...I thought that Katy was going to tell her mom about her “boyfriend”, but I guess that will have to wait until book 3 (or 4?? I don’t remember oops). It’s so disgusting when he was like “yeah being with your mom had some benefits” WILL YOU’RE A FILTHY MAN. Ugh and then when Katy’s gonna tell her mom, her mom is gonna be like listen honey I know you don’t like him/he’s not your dad...but it’s in reality, Kellie, your “boyfriend” is just using you!! Ahh her poor mom :( Speaking of which, I genuinely thought that Katy’s mom was completely oblivious to the fact that there was always some guy at her house/hanging out with Katy. Alas, Kellie noticed, but damn she thinks Katy is a slut or something (I’m not slut-shaming--you do you boo - I just think it’s messed up that her mom would think that of her daughter). Again, the awkward sex-talk with her mom was sort of like a light reminder that while Katy is mutated, she’s still a human at her core. Finally we have Matthew--which I’m going to be honest, he is the MOST UNDERRATED CHARACTER!! I feel like most people are obsessed with Daemon (which is fair enough) but Matthew is honestly the GOAT. While he doesn’t really have a relationship with Katy like he does with the Luxen kids, he still cares about her. He’s like the old wise man but I guess he isn’t that old (he’s not an Elder, but he’s Luxen….hmmmm….). He genuinely gives Katy some solid advice, even though she technically ignores it. But at the end, when they’re cleaning up Adam’s blood….oh man :( Katy definitely needed to hear those words.

I felt like that particular point - the climax, while it was anticipated that Blake was a bad guy, there are soooo many emotions. We first start off by Katy basically telling Dee to get lost (which may I remind you that Katy was being a crappy friend, so this was just so heartbreaking...gosh darn it, Blake, why do you have to be so manipulative!!). Then we get into this sequence of action--and then the moment that Adam took the “bullet” for Katy...well that would definitely be shot in slow motion...yes it’s cheesy, but damn. Adam--aka the quiet boy who finally became Dee’s boyfriend; Dee, who is Katy’s best friend, yes that Adam...he died for his girlfriend’s best friend. It’s such a powerful thing to do on his behalf, even though it’s messed up in so many ways--and then there are all the layers of Blake’s betrayal...I have no idea of Armentrout planned out the novel, but from that part and onwards, I felt like I was on an emotional rollercoaster.

So for me, the layers, the details, and the last 100 pages or so are the main reasons why I find that the sequel is better than the first novel in this series. I felt like Armentrout’s writing improved: the romance scenes were way less cheesy than in Obsidian and I felt like there was like fluff -- again, this goes back to the layers that basically make Blake’s betrayal even worse than it would’ve been if it were just between Blake and Katy. The pacing of the book seemed to work with the flow of the story; this allowed the plot to be developed and I felt like the events were adding up pretty naturally.

The ending is so bittersweet--we find out that Dawson is alive, but it was to the cost of Adam’s life...all the main characters, but Dee especially, don’t even have time to process one event before the next one occurs. And of course Dawson’s return is where the story ends; the classic cliffhanger (I did mention earlier that this is the type of series to binge read!).

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this book--is there a particular scene that made your blood boil or did you try to understand the characters’ motives? Overall, did you enjoy the book or was it just okay?? I’d love to know! =D

Thank you for reading my review, I hope you have an opulent day, wherever you are in the world!

~ Cassandra / an-avid-reader

#just one more ~ queue #book review #review #books #lux #jennifer l armentrout #series #paranormal #paranormal romance #lux beginnings #onyx #sequel

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kitchenwitchsuperwhovian · 7 years ago

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Snow Queen

Pairings/ Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, (OFC) Iryania (sister)

Summary: What happens when a sister goes too far and gets between soul mates?

Prompts: #LoveSexMagic Challenge, The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen (my take on his classic story mixed with the movie Snow White & the Huntsman: Winter’s War).

Word count: 4,507

Warnings: Angst, death, violence, fear, rage, love, SFW, this is gonna hurt y’all...

A/N: @neversatisfiedgirl, #LoveSexMagic Challenge, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, beta

*Italics are flashbacks/inner dialogue*

*Bold is spellwork* *GIFs are not mine*

15 years ago

“Iryania! Come quick! I have something to show you!” Y/N yelled from within the woods. Iri races towards her sister in fear that she found something dangerous. What she sees is far worse than anything she could have imagined. Iryania comes across Y/N kissing a strange man but the obvious love and affection chills her to the bone.

“Iri! This is Dean and he’s my soulmate. He was hunting a ghost the next town over with his dad and I was visiting mom and dad in the cemetery. They save people Iri. I want to help him and his family. They know what’s it’s like when the supernatural takes a part of your family. Dean lost his mom just like we lost mom and dad. Are you not happy for me?” Y/N asks innocently as she hugs Dean close to her side. A mask of affection quickly replaces her fear and anger.

“Y/N, I am so happy for you! Dean, welcome to the family.” Iryania hugs them both and tells them to come back for a big dinner at her house to celebrate. As the happy couple leaves, hugging and kissing, Iryania’s gaze turns from loving to a mask of rage that would have scared her sister to the core. Her mind was racing with thoughts of how Y/N was the better witch with her growing powers, her spells are stronger and more complex, and now she has a soulmate too. “No way should she be this happy. No. Time for big sister to give her what she deserves, just like she did her parents….”

March 2017

“Iri, hunting is becoming too routine. We find them, bespell them to where they destroy themselves, then head home after wiping our existence from those we interacted with. Why can’t we just stop and take a break?” Y/N asks wearily as they drive up to their shared farmhouse in Canada. “Iri, are you okay? You are awfully quiet.”

“Like you said, just tired. Maybe we should take a couple of weeks off to unwind. We have been at it for 15 years, Y/N.” she tells her sister softly.

“I know how long it’s been, Iryania. No need to remind me. Although two weeks off may be a good thing... We can replenish our reserves and stock up on the herbs from our kailyard.” Y/N states absentmindedly.

“Good, you take our stuff inside. I’m going to call a couple of friends and see if they want to hang out tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you later. I’m going to take a long bath and a quick nap. That last motel was too nasty to even consider taking off my clothes.”

“Okay, I’ll wake you in a couple hours. Peaceful rest, sister dear.”

As soon as Y/N was inside the house and occupied, Iryania called her latest hunter contact about the whereabouts of Dean Winchester.

“Talk to me hunter. Tell me what I need to know.” she grits out through clenched teeth.

“Dean and Sam were last seen leaving Levering, Michigan heading north into Canada on a werewolf case. ETA is fours hours from your location.” the voice on the other side mumbles.

“Good. Keep me posted if that changes.” With a harsh snap of her fingers, she disconnects her phone and huffs in frustration. Because of a stupid werewolf, all her lies may be exposed.

One week later

“So get this….the last victim was the cousin to the other two victims. And they all have one thing in common. They have the same blood type. So, maybe this werewolf is hunting a specific blood type because they have the type in common?” Sam stated while scrolling through his files on his computer.

“Sounds a little thin but we’ve worked with less. Hey, didn’t the hospital say that there were two reported animal bites reported and one was the Chief of Surgery?” Dean asked while shuffling his paperwork around trying to find the file with the blood reports on it.

“Yeah, why?” Sam looks up from his computer for a second while shooting him a questioning glance in his direction.

“Well, guess who has the same type as the others? The Chief.” They both say smugly.

Later that week, they are able to track the werewolf to a mostly secluded section of forest just north of the Canadian border. Seam heads East while Dean heads West. Dean hears nothing for about a mile until he comes across a freshly killed rabbit with the heart missing.

“Sammy, I think I found something. Sammy?” Dean yells as he hears leaves rustle behind him a second too late. The werewolf knocks him to the ground and tries to bite him. Dean manages to grab his gun and hit the creature with it across the face. The creature rears back enough for Dean to scramble towards his fallen gun and stand up. He faces the werewolf and aims for the heart. It rushes towards him so he takes his silver blade out and stabs him in the heart just as he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in 15 years calling his name.

Unbeknownst to Dean, Sam found the girls’ farmhouse and was trying to convince them to stay inside where it was safe. The girls chuckle and tell him that they are witches who are trying to kill the werewolf that is terrorizing their small town. The girls seem to be drawn to the clearing where Dean is and as the sisters come upon Dean thrusting the silver blade into the heart of the werewolf. Y/N whispers Dean’s name and time seems to slow as Dean’s olive eyes met hers. She was in shock as he dropped the dead werewolf and ran to hug her. The ice that has been a constant in her life was slowly melting into the warmth she hadn’t realized she had missed.

Drawing Dean into a tight hug, she only let go when a masculine cough to her right startled her out of your daze. Sam was standing awkwardly next to her sister who stood with anger and fear in her gaze. “Sister, what did you do?” she hissed at her while holding and squeezing Dean’s hand.

“I have no idea what…..” she started to say but the angry hiss her sister made stopped her words cold.

“Iryania, WHAT DID YOU DO?!” she screamed as the fire from her natural powers started to lick at her sister’s feet.

“I did what I had to do to make you stronger!” She carefully removed her hand from Dean’s and gave him a reassuring smile at his confused and wary look. Then directed her gaze towards her sister and started to chant in Latin rapidly.

“Te ut verum dicas quomodo fecit mihi fortior pro se adducere mendacium est dolor meus in conspectu dissimilis tu semper sensi usque ad mortem!” (Translation: Tell me the truth about how you made me stronger for each lie spoken will bring you pain unlike any you've ever felt before until death!)

“I did nothing…..aaahhhhh!” Iryania started screaming as her bones cracked and bent with the beginning of the lie. Startled, she heard the cocking of a gun and look to see Sam pointing his gun at her head making her suck in a breath and try not to panic. Dean grasped her hand gently again and squeezes to assure her that everything will be okay. Y/N squeeze back and refocus on your sister.

“I,“ she gulps nervously. “At the first full moon after your profession of being in love and soulmates, I cast a spell that made you see, feel, and believe that he was dead. I had no idea that your powers would change to ice. I was jealous that you had found your soulmate so easily while I am still looking! I am the eldest yet everything came easy to you. Spells, your powers, and then love with this hunter of all things. You would not leave him willingly so I did what I had to to protect us both from the witch hunters. Aaahhhh!” She screams as the last of her words turn to lies and therefore excruciating pain.

“Tell the truth Iri. Please. For once quit being the big bad sister and tell me.” Tears of pain ran down her cheeks.

“Fine! You want the truth! I was sick of being the second class witch to my more powerful but younger sister. So what if I can bend the elements to my every whim? So what if I can cast an illusion so well that no one can tell reality from fiction? You, my dear sister, can create life from nothing. And of course your growing powers would be to take life away as well. I wanted what you had and nothing was stopping me. Not even your soulmate and your pathetically sweet true love.”

“Iryania, if you had only asked me to, I could have located your soulmate so that you could be happy like I was. After Dean had died…” she gulp as she tried to will away the tears that started forming.

Dean hugged her close to his side and Sam slowly lowers his gun when he sees the genuine affection between the two. He slowly makes his way to Dean’s side and gives an awkward, embarrassed smile. With a nod of his head, Dean gives Y/N the courage to continue.

“Iri, I found mom’s spellbook from when she was a child. In it was the spell to find a lost soulmate. She cast it on her 18th birthday, when our powers come to light and a year later, father found her. I was set to cast it for you on the same full moon you used to curse me.” She stated sadly as the look of shock on her sister’s face becomes too much and the tears start to fall on both of their faces.

However, the look of shock on her face is quickly masked by her anger. “Y/N, you may have helped me then but I can say that not having my soulmate has made me the better witch. I have no one and nothing that I care about enough to be used against me as leverage. Not even you, dear sister.” She sneers at the obvious love in both Y/N and Dean’s eyes.

Y/N was shocked and hurt beyond reason that no pain came to Iryania. She was telling the truth. All those years watching each other’s backs, being there for each other, her helping to get to a new normal without her soulmate, eradicating the witch hunters…..it was all a lie. All of it, a lie.

Violently yanking her hand from Dean’s and take a step towards her sister, sparks of fire start to circle around Y/N’s hands. Dean tries to calm her down but she shakes off his hands and whisper that she needed to do this by herself. Sam sees something in her expression that tells him to get Dean away to safety before something happens that can’t be fixed later.

“Dean, she needs to do this alone. If the roles were reversed and it was us, what would you do? Let’s take care of the body and wait by the car. She’ll be fine. Come on.” Sam gently pulls Dean away from the sisters and towards the body of the werewolf.

Iryania looks at Y/N haughtily until she realizes that her hands are completely engulfed in flames but her eyes are ice cold. She’s trying to move from where she is standing but is unable. She looks down to see that ice is forming around her feet and steadily climbing up her legs.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” she frantically tries to recall a spell to dispense the ice but in her panic, all thoughts flee her head. The ice is solidifying around her waist now as she attempts to get Y/N to calm down.

“Something I should have done a while ago. Iri, whatever affection I held for you is now gone. Your pleas have fallen on deaf ears. Because of you, we went on a killing spree. Were any of the witch hunters even hunters or were they someone to be eliminated?” At the remorse and guilt in her eyes, Y/N scoffs in disgust. “I have always looked up to you, loved you for your many flaws, and always forgave you for any sins against me but this is it Iryania. You are out of chances. I cannot forgive you for tricking me into killing innocents because you are a jealous cow who has an inferiority complex. So what if I was happy and in love? If I wasn’t with you, nothing else mattered or was it the fact that you will NEVER have the level of power I do? Huh? TELL ME!”

“Yes dammit! I was sick of being left behind. Who cares if it took me months to work out a new spell?! It took you half that time on the same damn spell! Oh Y/N is a natural! Look at her! Blah blah blah! See me, dammit! I am the oldest, I should be the one everyone looks at, not you. Even mother and father looked at us differently. Well that sure changed, didn’t it?” she snarked.

At this revelation, Y/N flashed back to finding her home on fire and the screams of their parents could be heard for miles. How her powers couldn’t put out the flames. By the time help had arrived, the house was in ashes and Iryania was comforting Y/N as she wailed and cried in her sister’s arms for hours.

“You killed them because you thought that they loved me more than you because of powers? Well, you can tell them what you did when I send you to hell!” The ice was on her chin and slowly climbing over the rest of her head.

“Be careful what you wish for, dear sister. We may see you sooner that you think…” As the last of the ice covers her mouth, mumbles come from her lips until they are frozen together. With both hands and arms aflame, Y/N reaches forward to hug her sister. Her eyes widen in fear just as Y/n increases the pressure and flames engulf the both of them just before she explodes into ice shards which melt rapidly into the forest floor. Dean comes running at the sound of the explosion with Sam a few feet behind him, both with guns drawn. The fire on her arms suddenly goes out and Y/N starts to feel sick and dizzy.

“Dean, I think she cast a spell before she died but I didn’t catch any of it. She was encased in ice so it was muffled. I need to lie down. Maybe you should call in a witch or someone who can reverse it because something doesn’t feel right. I need to lie down and sleep. I’m suddenly so tired. Dean?” Y/N mumbles into Dean’s shirt as her hands slacken suddenly and she passes out.

“Sam! Help me get her to Baby and we can call Cas. I don’t know what her sister did but it can’t be anything good.” Dean swiftly picks her up bridal style as Sam races to the car to open the doors. Dean gently places her in the backseat and covers her with his jacket. He slams the door, jumps into the driver’s seat as Sam gets in the other side and speeds towards the U.S. border. He has a hunter friend who can get them across without papers.

“Hey Cas, can you meet us in Michigan? Dean’s soulmate had a spell cast on her and we don’t know what it is. Thanks.” Sam hangs up and lets Dean know that Cas can meet them in the small town of Levering, Michigan just south of the Canadian border. As Dean drives, he can’t help but to constantly check the rearview mirror to see if she’s still breathing. It takes a close call with a truck to get Dean focused back on the road.

“Sammy, check to see if she’s breathing, okay? I need to watch the road and I can’t if I don’t know if she’s still alive or not.” He sees Sam out of the corner of his eye put a hand on her chest and the shallow but steady breaths she emits calm Dean down a little. Sam just prays that Y/N makes it through this. He doesn’t think Dean would do well if she was to die.

After stopping for gas, Sam calls Cas who is just a couple miles down the road already in a motel room. Sam gives Dean directions and he parks quickly, grabs Y/N, and hustles them towards the room Cas rented. Two swift knocks from Sam have Cas opening the door cautiously to let them in.

“Dean. Sam. Who is she?” Cas asks with a quirk of his brow and a nod in her direction while Dean carefully lays her out on the bed and covers her with the comforter.

“She’s my soulmate. Met her when we were 18, we were together for a month, and then she disappeared. Turns out her and her sister are witches and the sister cast a spell to make Y/N think I was dead. Let’s just say that some shit went down and Y/N had to kill her sister but not before she cast another spell. She was encased in ice so Y/N wasn’t able to determine what was said. Do you think you can help?” Dean asks hopefully.

Cas walks towards Y/N and looks over the woman destined for Dean. It is obvious that she has had a hard life but he hopes and prays to Father that she can be saved. Dean deserves some happiness in his life. He may have Sam and now Mary, but a soulmate is something he dared not dream of since she went missing. Cas places two fingers on her forehead and closes his eyes to concentrate. He feels an oppressive force that is slowly draining the life from her body. He tries to delve deeper but the curse is sticky and fluid. Everytime he thinks that he is making progress, it spreads and envelops whatever healing he had just done and turn it into fuel for the curse. Once he sees the words of the actual curse, his stills in shock and sadness. Cas comes back to himself in the motel room to find Dean and Sam arguing about Y/N.

“Dammit Dean! If you would just listen, I think that she would be more comfortable at the bunker where we can protect her better or have you forgotten about Lucifer’s child?” Sam huffs in frustration as he tries to reason with Dean.

“Sam, I can’t lose her again. Not when I just found her. I won’t.” Dean softly walks over to Y/N and brushes her hair over her ear. “Hey baby. I need you to be strong and fight whatever your sister did to you. We just found each other again and I don’t know about you, but I would like the chance to be together, hmmm. So fight love. I’ll be right here waiting for you to open your gorgeous Y/E/C eyes, okay?” He kisses her forehead and settles himself into the chair next to the bed for what he hopes is a short wait. He takes her left hand in his and absentmindedly strokes his thumb across the back of her hand.

“What have you found out Cas?” Dean whispers while Sam sits on the other bed.

“We have a problem Dean. The curse that was cast is finite. So long as she has a soulmate she is in love with, she will continue to fade and eventually die. Her sister knew what she was doing. She worded the curse so there are no loopholes. I am sorry Dean.” Cas states in a regretful tone and looks down in shame at his inability to once again help his friend.

“Cas, what is the exact wording she used? Maybe there is a loophole that you haven’t figured out, okay? Let’s not give up so easy.” Dean asks in a hopeful but resigned tone.

“Quamdiu amor soulmate habitat in toto corde tuo, et celeriter ad mortem veniet.” (Translation ~ So long as the love of a soulmate lives within your heart, death will come swiftly and with purpose.”) Castiel looks at Dean with regret as he sighs and tries to work out how to save Y/N.

24 hours later

“Dean, Sam may have found a solution but it is extreme and risky, especially for Y/N…” Cas whispers behind Dean’s sunken frame.

Dean swiftly drinks the last of his whiskey and slowly turns to face Castiel. “Hit me with it. Nothing is as important as Y/N, awake and alive.”

“Dean, the spell stated that as long as she had the love of her soulmate in her heart, she would be like this. So we have to remove the love and memories attached to her soulmate and replace them with other memories. She has to completely forget about you, her connection and love for you, as well as any memories of Sam. She also has to believe that her sister was killed by another witch and said witch was killed in the process. If she was to lay eyes on you again, all memories and love for you would return and she would die.”

“I don’t care, Cas. As long as she’s alive and healthy.” Dean pats Cas on his back as he leaves the room to check on Y/N. He sits next to the bed and takes her hand in both of his. Dean sighs heavily as he wonders what to do next.

“Y/N, I really wish you would wake up but in order for you to be perfectly fine, I have to give you up all over again. I hope you know somewhere deep inside that no matter where you are or what you are doing, I will always love you.” Sam opens the door and whispers that it's time. Dean keeps his eyes closed tightly as a single tear escapes and travels forlornly down his face.

“One more minute Sammy. I need to say goodbye.” As Sam's steps echo away from the room, Dean brushes her hair away from her face and kiss her forehead softly. “Maybe in the next life baby.” He gently picks her up and places her on the table in the war room where Castiel has set up for the spell.

“I need you both to leave the room for this. She cannot wake up and see you. I will return for you after it is done.” Castiel says in a stern tone.

Three hours later, you wake up back in your house in the woods with no memory on how you got to bed. You blink the sleep away from your eyes and you can't help but feel a nagging sense that you're forgetting something important. As the last vestiges of sleep fade, you prepare for your day shift at the coffee shop which starts in thirty minutes. You hurry and take a five minute shower, get dressed while eating a breakfast bar and head out.

Castiel pops back into the bunker to see Sam holding Dean as he sobs uncontrollably while murmuring her name repeatedly. Sam looks to Cas with a dejected and worrisome expression as they both try to calm Dean down. When that fails, Cas puts him to sleep using his grace. They both manage to wrestle Dean to his room and lay him on his bed. Sam proceeds to take off Dean’s shoes and cover him with a quilt as he gives Cas a silent nod to leave the room.

Sam and Cas discuss ways they can help Dean get through this tough situation but they are unsure about the lasting effects of basically losing a soulmate has on Dean. As the months go by, Dean sinks further and further into himself. He's stop going to bars and instead drinks alone in his motel room, staring into space as the memories of them cloud his mind.

Two years go by and Sam and Dean are driving through a little town in northern Maine when Dean realizes that Baby is almost out of gas. Sam takes the opportunity to stretch and search for a decent place to find a meal. Luckily the coffee shop across the street from the gas station offers a wide variety of salads and sandwiches that he and Dean can agree on. Sam hears a low humming coming from the kitchen as he grabs the last part of his order and heads out to Baby. While Sam is sitting inside Baby eating Dean has his back towards the coffee shop. Dean finishes pumping gas, puts the hose away and climbs into the driver side. There's the peal of a bell as a door opens in the distance which he ignores as he hum the song, Heat of the Moment by Asia. Him and Sam bicker a bit about the radio as he puts Baby in drive and leaves the little town behind. In his rearview mirror, he sees a small crowd around the front of the coffee shop across from the gas station but shrugs off his curiosity since the hunt ended a few hours ago.

Unbeknownst to Dean, Y/N had just finished her shift at the coffee shop and was leaving on her lunch break when she dropped her purse outside the front door. After picking everything up, she hears a loud thunk of a car door slamming across the street. When she looks up, her eyes lock onto Dean's face. A cry of anguish escapes her lips as her memories return along with the overwhelming sense of love and trust she feels for Dean. Her eyes roll back in her head and before she hits the ground, her heart takes its final beat. A passerby who knew her from the diner screams for help but it's too late. Her sister’s revenge is complete when the spell takes hold as the echo of Baby’s engine fades into the distance.

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anavoliselenu · 7 years ago

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Claim me chapter 8

I think she hesitates, but it may only be my imagination. “So Courtney’s not coming?” she asks, referring to Ollie’s fiancée.

“He didn’t say. I’m guessing not. She’s probably traveling this week. So what do you think?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “But not drinks.”

“Jamie, if you don’t want—”

“No, no,” she interrupts. “I do. And tonight’s fine. I just mean that you and I already have plans later, anyway. Ollie can tag along.”

“What plans?” This is totally news to me.

“Raine invited us to a party at The Rooftop and Garreth Todd is going to be there.”

“Who’s Garreth Todd?” I ask.

“He, my clueless friend, is the hottest thing in Hollywood right now. And we’re going to meet him.”

“Alan Rickman or Sean Connery, I’d be excited. Garreth Todd, not so much.”

“Well, you’re going anyway. This is our night to have fun, remember?”

I glance at the television. I was totally looking forward to the airplane version of Die Hard next, but I have to admit it does sound like fun. I’ve never been to a Hollywood party, and just because I haven’t got a clue who the latest stars are doesn’t mean that the glitz and glam won’t be a hoot. Then again, stars mean paparazzi, and that sounds decidedly less fun.

“Won’t the press be there? I’m really not in the mood to deal with them.”

“Nah, Raine explained how it works. They’ll be hanging around the entrance probably, but since they don’t expect you, just wear a hat and keep your head down. Ollie and I can flank you. It’s totally no big. And once we’re at the party, the only photographers are part of Garreth’s PR corp. So it’ll be a vulture-free night. Swear to God.”

My phone rings, and I realize it’s Ollie, who apparently decided he’d been on hold for long enough and hung up. “Sorry,” I say, then explain the whole Garreth Todd–Hollywood party thing. Unlike me, he doesn’t live in a cultural bubble, and he knows exactly who Garreth is, and he’s keen to do the party thing. As it turns out, I’m right about Courtney, but wrong about the reason. I’d assumed she was away on business, but Ollie tells me that she’s flown to San Francisco to look at wedding dresses with her mother.

He says he’ll be over in less than an hour, and we’ll all go together. And even though I’m a little nervous about the three of us hanging together for the first time since Jamie and Ollie screwed around, I’m also looking forward to it. These two are my best friends, after all. And, yeah, I miss them.

I pick up my phone to call Justin and tell him I’ve had a change of plans. If he’s not deep into work stuff already, maybe he can even join us. But my finger hesitates over his name. Justin doesn’t want to spend time with Ollie. For that matter, while he was fine with me hanging with Jamie, I have a feeling he’d be less than thrilled if Ollie had been part of that mix. And besides, nothing of what I told him has changed—I am still with Jamie. We’ve just added another person, too.

I drop my phone back onto the bed, then get up and head to my room to find an outfit for tonight. The glow I was feeling earlier, however, has faded a bit, and that frustrates me.

I’m not doing anything wrong. So why do I feel so guilty?

A woman wearing nothing but a bikini and down-covered wings brushes by me carrying a tray of rainbow-colored champagne. As far as I can tell, the champagne has been dyed to match the pool, which is changing color every thirty seconds as the lights rotate through the spectrum.

If I had been held at gunpoint and forced to come up with the most ostentatious Hollywood party imaginable, I do not think I could have conjured anything even close to what now surrounds me. The waiters and waitresses wear tiny gold bathing suits that leave nothing to the imagination and decorative wings that make it difficult to maneuver through the crowd. We are on the roof of one of downtown Los Angeles’s tallest buildings, and I can only presume the unstated message is that we, the guests, hold such a prominent spot in heaven that the angels themselves must serve us.

Jamie bounces up to me and presses a glass of bright red champagne into my hand. She’s wearing an extremely short red skirt paired with a black lace blouse over a red bra. As always, she looks amazing. I’m wearing a black sarong skirt and matching black tank, the only color provided by a pink scarf that I have draped around my neck. Considering the outfits that I see walking past us, on the whole Jamie is dressed at least as conservatively as I am.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” she asks.

“It’s exactly what I would expect a Hollywood party to be,” I say dryly. Beside me, Ollie barks out a laugh, and Jamie scowls at us both.

“Don’t be cynical,” she says. “From what Raine tells me, this is one of the parties of the summer, and it’s incredibly exclusive.” She gestures vaguely in the direction she came from. “Steve said he’s been finagling to get an invite for months.”

“Steve’s here?” I rise up on my toes and search the crowd. “What about Anderson?” Steve is the first person Jamie met after she skipped out on me during our college years and moved to Los Angeles to find fame, fortune, and near starvation as an actress. I met him during my many pre-graduation visits, but I haven’t seen him since I actually moved here.

“He’s here, too. I told them we’re by the pods,” Jamie says, referring to the odd, red waterbed pods near where we’re standing. “They’re making the circuit.”

This doesn’t surprise me. Steve is a working screenwriter despite the fact that he’s never seen one of his movies produced. According to Jamie this is not an unusual thing in Hollywood. His husband, Anderson, sells real estate. I adore Steve, but unless he takes pity on me and talks classic movies, my eyes glaze over ten minutes into the conversation. But I can always find something interesting to say about houses.

“This really is ostentatious as hell,” Ollie says, “but it’s also pretty damn cool. I mean, look at this place.”

I have to agree that the venue is amazing. It’s a clear night, and we seem to be floating among the skyscrapers. I can see the mountains in the distance, looming black dotted with pinpoints of light against a pencil-gray sky. From a booth on the other side of the roof, a DJ is providing danceable music, and many of the guests are taking advantage of the huge dance floor. Drinks are provided by the roaming angels, but can also be had at the pool-side bar. And, lest we forget this is a Hollywood party, a series of clips from various films—presumably starring Garreth Todd—are being projected onto a two-story tall screen.

“Okay,” I say. “Y’all win. It’s pretty cool.” I take a long drink and finish off my champagne, because I am here tonight to have fun with my friends. “So where is your guy?” I ask, which prompts Jamie to crane her neck and look around.

“Unless he fell off the roof, he’s here somewhere. Let’s wait here for Steve and Anderson, then we can go make the circle and find him.”

“So are you getting serious about this guy?” Ollie asks her. “I mean, after a guy like me, it’s hard to imagine you could want anyone else.”

He is clearly teasing, but underneath I think I hear a hint of wounded pride. I hope that I’m imagining it. For his sake, for Jamie’s sake, and mostly for Courtney’s.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, a slow smile blooming. “Emphasis on the ‘getting.’ We’re not there yet. But, well, yeah.”

“Good,” Ollie says curtly.

I frown, trying to think of something pithy and cutting to say, but nothing comes to mind.

“Now, if you want to talk serious …” Jamie trails off, her eyes on me, her eyebrows waggling mischievously.

I smile innocently. “A lady never tells.”

“It’s too damn soon,” Ollie says shortly. “And—” He cuts himself off.

“What?” I snap.

“The whole thing just worries me. Stark worries me.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Jamie blurts out. “Don’t you ever give it a rest?”

I’m grateful for Jamie’s interference. I’d thought that the Ollie-Justin war would be off the table tonight after my talk with Ollie earlier, but apparently two glasses of green champagne have loosened his tongue.

“That’s why I love her,” Ollie says, hooking an arm around Jamie. “She tells it like it is and doesn’t take my shit.”

“And what?” I ask. “Courtney doesn’t tell you when you’re being a prick?” It is bad form for me to play the Courtney card right now, and I know it. But I’m pissed. Besides, I’m supposed to be Ollie’s best man at his upcoming wedding, and although I’ve never actually been a best man before, I’m pretty sure that one of the jobs is smacking down the groom when he crosses the line into being an asshole.

“No,” Ollie says seriously. “She doesn’t.” He bends down and sits on the edge of the water-filled mattress inside the pod. His body shifts and rolls, and he reaches out and grabs the red molded plastic that forms part of the pod’s arching roof. “She just waits until all the shit has built up and then she breaks up with me.”

I sit down next to him, ignoring the way our seat sloshes beneath us. “I thought you weren’t going to let any more shit build up.” Ollie and Courtney have been on-again, off-again for years. This is the first time they’ve made it all the way to an official engagement. I really like Courtney, and I hope it works out. But the more time that goes by, the more I’m afraid that Ollie’s going to fuck it up yet again. Or, to be more accurate, that he already has fucked it up.

“I’m like Pigpen,” Ollie says. “Shit just follows me around. Not all of us lead the charmed life of a certain billionaire we know.”

“Dammit, Ollie!”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I’m a total prick.”

“Yes,” I agree. “You are.” I suck in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry you have a problem with Justin, but he’s important to me. And if I’m important to you, then you need to figure out a way to deal with that.”

“That’s the point,” Ollie says. “You are important to me. And I can deal with Stark. I can even ignore all the shit on him I could dig up in just one hour in the Bender, Twain file room,” he adds, referring to the law firm where he works. “It’s not the man that’s the problem—well, not the big problem. It’s what’s around him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Selena, you practically disguised yourself to come here tonight,” he says, referring to the hat that I’d worn, just as Jamie suggested. “Do you want that life? Hell, can you handle it?” he adds, then brushes his hand lightly across my thigh before twining his fingers in mine. “I just worry about you is all.”

My throat is thick, and I look down, not quite willing to meet his eyes. I know his concern for me is genuine—Ollie has seen my scars, and he has seen me break, too. More important, he’s helped put the pieces of me back together.

“Justin’s worried about the same thing,” I admit quietly. “But I can stand it,” I add, looking up so that I can see his eyes. “I am standing it, and I want to, because Justin is worth it.”

His shoulders droop. “Who would have thought I’d have something in common with Justin Stark?”

I laugh out loud, and Ollie grins.

“Seriously,” he says. “I may have my issues with Stark, but I also know he cares about you.”

“He does,” I say. I’m about to add that I know that Ollie cares for me, too, but my words are stalled by the arrival of Steve and Anderson accompanied by two absolutely gorgeous men.

“Thank God,” Jamie says. “You guys have perfect timing.”

Since I am desperate for a change in subject, I agree wholeheartedly, and allow myself to be hugged and air-kissed and complimented by Steve and Anderson while Ollie shakes their hands and otherwise looks grim. I recognize the guy who has swooped Jamie into his arms as Bryan Raine, and it doesn’t take a huge mental stretch to identify the final member of my rescue party as Garreth Todd. After all, his face has been splashed on the movie screen all evening.

“Well, hello,” he says, stepping into my personal space. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Selena,” I say, my mask firmly back in place. I am no longer in a party mood, and right then all I want is to run through the social niceties and get the hell out of here.

“I hope you’re having fun,” he says, moving even closer. I take a step back, and find myself bumping against Ollie. He puts a steadying hand on my shoulder, and that simple touch makes me want to cry. That’s the way it used to be—Ollie reaching out to steady me whenever I felt I might shatter.

“We were going for a celestial theme,” Todd says. “Get it?”

“It’s very colorful,” I say.

“It doesn’t even come close to sparkling the way you do,” he says. He’s only inches from me, and I’m sandwiched between him and Ollie. It occurs to me that if Justin said those words to me, I would probably melt. From Garreth, however, they only irritate.

I hope that Jamie will intervene, but she is lost in her Raine storm, and will not be rescuing me anytime soon. I’m on my own, and I know only one surefire way of regaining my personal space. “You have me at a disadvantage, sugar,” I say, with my brightest smile and my thickest Texas drawl. “You know my name, but I don’t have even a teensy, tiny clue as to yours.”

“Oh.” He takes a step back, presumably allowing his hyperventilating ego to get some air. “I’m Garreth Todd.”

“Very nice to meet you. And what is it you do?”

Behind me, Ollie shifts, and I can tell that he is going to explode with laughter. Jamie, thank goodness, isn’t paying attention. “I thought we were going to dance,” Ollie says, curling his fingers around mine.

“Of course,” I say, as he tugs me away. “So nice chatting with you, Mr. Todd.”

“You just dissed a movie star,” Ollie says as he pulls me onto the dance floor.

“Oh?” I say innocently, then bat my eyes for effect. “Was he a movie star?”

Ollie ignores my silliness. “Jamie is going to kill you.”

“I know,” I say. As far as Jamie is concerned, anyone who can help her climb the ladder must be treated with the utmost deference. “You have to admit he deserved it.”

“I admit nothing,” Ollie says, but he’s smiling. “So we’re here. Are we going to dance?”

It’s either that or head home, and right then I’m basking in the detente between Ollie and me. “Sure,” I say, then follow him onto the floor and let the music take over. It’s loud and heavy on the bass and just what I need to get my mind off everything. Still, I can’t help but wish that the song was slow and it was Justin on the floor with me instead of Ollie.

The wish is so fervent, in fact, that my imagination conjures the man. His tall form, cutting through the crowd. His mouth a hard line, his face expressionless, his eyes like a storm at sea. It is only when all eyes turn toward him, drawn in by the pull of Justin Stark, that I realize this is the real Justin striding through the wash of colored lights—and heading straight toward Ollie and me.

“Go,” Justin says to Ollie, his voice colder and more commanding than I have ever heard it.

I see my friend open his mouth as if to argue, but I catch his eye and nod. He frowns, then shoots Justin a look so full of disdain it makes my stomach curl. Justin doesn’t notice. He’s paid Ollie only scant attention, and his eyes have never left my face.

“Justin,” I begin.

“No,” he says. He pulls me roughly to him and wraps his arms around me. He practically trembles with anger, and I press my cheek against his chest, thankful to have this brief reprieve before the storm hits.

The music is still loud and fast with such a heavy bass that the roof beneath our feet seems to throb. I imagine we must look ridiculous, holding each other as if in a slow dance, but I don’t care. And soon, to my surprise, the music changes to match our pose. I glance up, curious, and see that a small crowd has gathered around us. Justin Stark is at least as famous as Garreth Todd, and we have stolen Mr. Todd’s spotlight.

I can only presume that the DJ is among the spectators, and has decided to match the music to our mood.

Since we do nothing more than sway in each other’s arms, interest soon wanes. The crowd either drifts away or joins us on the floor, and I begin to feel less like a fish in a bowl. A chastised fish, ready to be scolded.

He holds me through one song and then another, and though I am happy to spend my entire life inside the circle of his arms, I have reached the point where I can no longer stand the suspense. “Say something,” I plead.

He stays silent, and a cold dread curls through me. I am about to beg again when he speaks, so low and so gentle that I have to strain to hear him, and even then I am not sure that I have actually caught his words.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re—what?” I step back so that I can see his face, because I am certain that I have not heard right.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. We have stopped swaying and now we stand still on the dance floor.

“Is this some sort of reverse psychology? Because I know you pretty well, Justin Stark, and that wasn’t repentance I saw in your eyes when you crashed through the crowd. More like scary megalomaniac fury. Besides,” I add with a small grimace, “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Justin’s expression doesn’t change, but for the tiniest of instants, I think I see a flicker of amusement. “First off,” he says, “I didn’t crash through the crowd. I walked, and quite calmly, too, considering the circumstances.”

I swallow. I knew he was pissed.

“Second,” he continues, “I believe a megalomaniac is someone who suffers from delusions about their own power. Trust me,” he says, and this time I am certain I see mirth dancing in his eyes, “I suffer no delusions about the extent of my power. And finally, you may have reason to be sorry. I, however, have more.”

“I—oh.” I have no idea what to say. This conversation isn’t going at all the way I expected. But he’s right; I do have reason to be sorry. “I should have told you that Jamie and I were going out with Ollie.”

“So you knew at the time?”

“No. Raine called later and told Jamie about the party. Then Ollie called and ended up coming along. I actually picked up the phone to call you. But then I didn’t,” I finish with a shrug.

“Because you knew I’d be pissed.”

I nod. “And that’s why I’m sorry.”

“Then we have that in common.”

I watch his face silently, waiting for him to explain.

“I don’t want to be the asshole who keeps you away from your friends,” he says. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me in order to see them. And I’m sorry because you obviously felt exactly that way.”

Polite Selena starts to protest, but what he’s saying is the truth. Slowly, I nod.

“I won’t keep you from your friends, Selena. But dammit, I don’t like the son of a bitch.”

This is not exactly breaking news, but I still take a moment to consider how to respond. “I get that,” I say. “He hasn’t exactly earned your trust. But I’ve known him forever, and he’s one of my closest friends.”

“He’s seen you naked, Selena. He’s touched your scars.”

I blink at him. Surely he’s not—“Are you jealous?” The possibility shocks me. I’ve already told Justin that Ollie and I never slept together. It was never like that between us.

“Hell, yes, I’m jealous. I’m jealous of anyone who comforts you. Who pulls you into his arms and makes the hurt go away.”

“I didn’t even know you back then,” I whisper.

“And I’m jealous of the time that he’s had with you that I haven’t.”

“You’re not being fair.”

“I’m not being fair at all. But that doesn’t change the facts. You’re not just friends. You haven’t been for a long time. At least not since he got you through the hell with that asshole Kurt.” I close my eyes, remembering the boy who’d hurt me so badly years ago that I’d needed Ollie to help me pick up the pieces. “Ollie’s in love with you, Selena. It’s the one thing I do respect him for,” Justin continues. “He has excellent taste in women.”

These are not things that I want to hear. Ollie has only ever been my friend, albeit an extremely close one, at least until recently. I don’t like the way things are changing, and I don’t want to hear what Justin is saying.

Mostly, I don’t want to suddenly realize that I’ve been foolishly, stupidly blind.

I think of Courtney and feel a little sick. “He’s engaged, Justin,” I say, but the words are weak, and I cannot help but see Jamie in my mind. Fidelity is not one of Ollie’s strong suits.

“I know he is,” Justin says. “And maybe he loves his fiancée, I don’t know. But I do know that he loves you. And one of these days, that’s going to cause a very big problem between him and me.”

I manage a weak smile. “Don’t go all Wild West on me. Though with all your money, I guess it would be more Stark Manor than O.K. Corral, and a duel instead of a gunfight. But be careful, Justin. Ollie grew up in Texas. He’s a good shot.”

“I’m a better one,” Justin says, and there’s none of my light teasing in his voice.

“I really am glad you’re here.”

“As am I. It’s good to hold you. This entire day has been challenging.”

I wince, thinking of the paparazzi that accosted me outside of the office and those bullshit allegations of corporate espionage. “Sorry.”

He gently strokes my cheek. “No,” he says. “Not you. But there are things.” He sighs, and I am surprised at the exasperation I hear. “Tapestries that I’ve woven carefully over the years are starting to unravel. I don’t like it when things don’t go as I plan or expect.” He aims a small smile at me. “You may not have noticed it about me, but I am most comfortable when I am in control.”

“I’m shocked, Mr. Stark. Truly shocked.”

He ignores my sarcasm, and when he speaks, his voice is low and even. “Actually, I suppose you do fall within those parameters. I wanted you at home. You said no. I didn’t like it.”

I step close to him and slide my hands around his waist. “I suppose if it bothers you that much, you can simply tie me up and keep me permanently at your side.”

I can feel the way his body stiffens against mine, and I am glad I’m holding on to him. My own knees are weak. How simple it is to slip into passion with Justin. Even when we quarrel, we’re never far away from the fire, and it’s so easy to get pulled into the conflagration.

And always, always, there is the need to touch him, to feel him, to know that he is real and that he is mine.

“Why, Ms. Fairchild,” he says, “I believe you’re thinking naughty thoughts.”

“Very,” I confirm.

“I may have to take you up on your suggestion,” he says. He tugs on the end of my pink scarf. I feel the smooth brush of the material as it slides over my skin. “Tie you up,” he says, twisting the end of the scarf around one wrist. “Keep you close.” He gives the scarf a tight, quick jerk, and I stumble toward him. He catches me so that I don’t fall, and bends down so that his lips are close to my ear. “But first, I think you need to be very thoroughly spanked.”

I tilt my head so that he can see my eyes. “I’d rather be thoroughly fucked.”

He groans, and I know that I have won this round. “Oh, God, Selena. What you do to me.”

“No,” I say, my entire body on fire. “What you do to me. And please, Justin, do it soon.”

“We’re leaving,” he says, and I can only nod mutely.

“Where are we going?” I ask, as we take the elevator down. There are two other couples in the car with us, and only the tips of our fingers are touching. It is so intimate, though, that I feel like I’m naked before them.

“The apartment,” he says curtly.

Thank God. If he wanted to go all the way back to the Malibu house I was going to lose my mind. Even so, I’m not sure I can make it the few short blocks.

But then the elevator doors glide open and as soon as our companions step off in front of us, we are accosted by the flash of cameras, the press of microphones, and the overlapping queries of a dozen demanding voices.

Now I clutch Justin’s hand and move closer to his side.

“Mr. Stark!”

“Justin!”

“Selena, over here!”

“What can you say about your refusal to speak at the dedication of the Richter Tennis Center?”

“Can you explain your decision, Mr. Stark?”

I hold tight to Justin and keep my head down as we press forward toward the street. I assume at first that these are simply the same reporters and paparazzi that had been hovering about when we’d arrived. But then I see that in addition to the TMZ and E! reporters, there are vans from CNN and even the Wall Street Journal.

Apparently someone noticed Justin’s arrival, and the word spread like wildfire.

I squeeze Justin’s hand tighter, hoping he has a car nearby. It may only be a block to the apartment, but I do not want to walk it with these vultures following in our wake.

“What about the rumors out of Germany, Mr. Stark?” a voice calls, and Justin’s hand tightens around mine as he leads us firmly and silently toward the valet stand.

“Selena, is Justin Stark off the bachelor block?”

“Justin! How will the talk of a possible German indictment affect your holdings in the European Union?”

My mind is spinning. An indictment? I force myself not to look at Justin, and instead look forward, my face a mask of disinterest. There is no way—no way in hell—that I am letting these vultures see that I haven’t a clue what they’re talking about. Is Stark International in some kind of legal snafu? Is that what he meant by the tapestry unwinding?

“Selena! Mr. Stark! Germany! Indictment!” The voices blend together into a hideous cacophony. “Richter! Dedication! Justin! Justin! Justin!”

Justin must have summoned Edward without me realizing because the limo pulls to a smooth stop in front of the valet stand, and Edward gets out.

“No,” Justin says. “I’ve got it.” As Edward gets back in behind the wheel, Justin tugs me forward, then opens the rear passenger door, his body shielding me from the blinding storm of lights and questions.

I’m just about to slide into the car when Justin pulls his hand from mine, then turns and faces the crowd. A hush falls. Considering Justin’s staunch policy of not talking to the press, I think the paparazzi are at least as shocked as I am.

“I will not be attending the dedication ceremony for the Richter Tennis Center,” Justin says, in the firm clear voice he uses during business meetings. “While I fully support the construction and operation of such a center, I cannot in good conscience support its dedication honoring a man I don’t respect. As for your other questions, neither Ms. Fairchild nor I have any comment.”

Immediately, the air fills with mingled voices, each louder than the next, none discernible. They are shouting follow-up questions, shouting for Justin to turn for a picture, shouting for me to step away from the open limo door. Justin ignores them, turning to face me. I realize that I am still standing frozen, slightly bent midway in the motion of entering the limo.

And then, another voice rises above the noise, this time from the far side of the street.

“Justin Jeremiah Stark!”

I glance at Justin, but his hard expression reveals nothing. I straighten, then peer over the roof of the limo. The reporters have shifted the aim of their cameras, and now their lights are focused on an older man making his way across Flower Street.

“Get into the car,” Justin snaps at me.

“We need to talk,” the man calls out.

I stand frozen.

“Get in,” Justin urges, his voice more gentle.

I comply, but I peer out the far window at the man, and then once more up at Justin. “Who is that?” I ask.

He meets my eyes, his jaw tight, his expression hard. “My father.”

Justin slides in beside me and tugs the door closed. “Go,” he says to Edward, who nods and starts to pull slowly out into the street. Reporters scramble to get in front of the car, taking pictures of the limo and of Justin’s father, who is now pounding on the side window and yelling for Justin to stop.

I grab Justin’s hand, then look left at the old man’s face. “Justin,” I say. “Let him in. If you don’t, those reporters are going to eat him alive.”

Silence.

“Justin,” I say gently. “You need to find out why he’s here.”

Justin’s face is tense, his breathing even, and I wish that I knew what he was thinking.

Finally, he squeezes my hand and nods. “Stop,” he tells Edward. “Unlock the doors. And as soon as he’s in, run those goddamned piranhas over if you have to.”

A moment later the old man is inside the limo and Edward is pulling hard to the left and accelerating. I hold my breath, not really caring if a reporter gets squashed, but also not wanting Edward to get into trouble. Then we’re clear and the limo is traveling smoothly down Flower Street. “Make the block,” Justin says. He looks at his father, who’s settled on the seat facing us. “What do you want?”

The old man ignores him, instead focusing on me. “You must be Selena,” he says. “I’ve seen your picture in the paper with my boy. I’m Jeremiah, but you can call me Jerry.”

“What can we do for you, Mr. Stark?” I ask.

“We,” he repeats, then looks between the two of us. “We,” he says again, then actually guffaws.

I squeeze Justin’s hand tighter. I didn’t like this man before I met him, and I like him even less now.

“Ms. Fairchild asked you a question,” Justin says. “What can we do for you?” I can sense the low bubble of anger rising off Justin, and I hold tight to his hand. I’m certain that this man sitting so casually across from me either abused his son or was complicit in it, and I’m not sure if I’m holding on to Justin to give him support—or to keep from leaping across the limo and slapping the old man’s face.

Jerry shakes his head as if in defeat. “Justin,” he says, then leaves the name hanging.

My initial impression of him is someone oily and untrustworthy, but as I look more closely, I realize that he’s actually attractive, although a little too smooth. Like a man who discovered luxury late in life and has spent the rest of his time trying to play catch-up.

“I repeat,” Justin says, “what can we do for you?”

Jerry leans back in his seat, and his face takes on an unattractive, calculating edge. I can see a bit of how this man managed, despite his low income and working-class background, to maneuver his son onto the international tennis circuit. “What can you do for me? What can you do for me? Not a goddamn thing now. But this ain’t about me. It’s about you. And you managed to fuck it up real good.”

“Did I?” Justin asks coldly. “Let me explain the situation to you. You are in this car only because the lady insisted. If you want to earn the right to stay, then you speak, and you speak clearly. Otherwise, we are through.”

“You want clarity? How’s this: You’re acting like a damn fool, Justin Stark, and I may be a lot of things, but I am not the father of a fool. You get your high-class PR people to put some sort of spin on that nonsense you just spouted. You write a speech that would make angels sing. And you get your ass to that dedication on Friday, and you smile that photogenic smile, and you write a big, fat check if you have to. Because you need to do this, son. You need to push it through. You need to be goddamn squeaky clean, damn you.”

“Don’t call me ‘son.’ ”

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