Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (story books to read TXT) 📗

“Would the real Wade Crowley please stand up?” My joke fell flat, and Ryann gave me a cursory eyeroll for my troubles.

“Most of them are behind bars now, and the rest made deals for their freedom by giving up intel,” she continued.

“Which is probably why the chatroom disappeared,” Melody agreed. “They would’ve sensed their time was up and wanted to erase any evidence, in case they were put on trial. Plotting to kill a national hero certainly wouldn’t have done them any favors.”

I put a dramatic hand to my heart. “Melody, you’ve got to stop the flattery, or my head won’t fit through the door. I’m no hero.”

“Looks like you know something of the situation I’m in, Finch.” Nash gave me an appreciative smile, apparently letting me off the hook. “You were pursued; I was pursued. But at least I knew about it. Hey, if I’d known you then, I’d have given you a heads-up, though it looks like you got lucky in the end.”

“As if I didn’t worry enough about you,” Ryann murmured.

My insides went gooey, but I couldn’t overanalyze her comment right now. I had too many plates spinning. Davin couldn’t get into the Winchester House, which meant I could stow his plate for a moment. And I couldn’t deal with Lux until she slunk back into my life, so I could set that plate down too. Okay, so maybe I didn’t have that many plates spinning. I only had one actually up in the air. The most important one, for now: getting this curse off Nash, drawing his blood, stowing him somewhere safe, and delivering the goods to the E-man.

And if I dropped this plate, the rest would smash too.

Thirty-Six

Finch

Later that night, nestled in the creepy bosom of the Winchester House, our misfit band of merry weirdos reeled from everything that had happened. Namely, Davin, Nash, and the tangled web of lies that could strangle us at any moment. Or, rather, me.

We’d moved to the kitchen. Brighter and less oppressive in décor, it wasn’t quite as eerie as the rest of the house, despite the spirits shuffling around on a loop of servitude. Ryann stared at them, half petrified, half curious. Not surprising, since they were her first brush with ghoulies.

Luke lay on a couch by the window, in the “bar” region of the kitchen. Melody perched beside him, armed with magical potions aplenty for his head wound. Nash had sourced them from the Winchester storeroom, mixing vials and serums to speed the healing process. Ironic, considering he couldn’t do the same for himself. He’d also rustled up something for me and walked me through the method of making more Medela to keep the gremlins at bay. I hadn’t needed another dose yet, even with the added panic of Davin’s sudden arrival at the cabin. It looked like this Atlantean concoction had a lot more staying power than my old pills.

“They look cozy.” Nash tipped his bottle of cider at the sweet couch scene. I sat at the table with the wannabe lumberjack, nursing my own cider. “Anything between them? Or is it purely professional?”

I shrugged. “Beats me. Luke’s besotted with her, but… she’s like War and Peace.”

“Huh?”

“Hard to read.”

He burst out laughing, startling me so badly I almost fell off my chair. “You’re funny, Finch. That one got me.” Huntress nuzzled his hand. “Yeah, I think I agree with you, H.”

“You talk to the dog?” I stared at the fluffy pup.

“Of course. She and I are connected, here.” He tapped his forehead. “And she thinks there’s more to Melody’s feelings than meets the eye. H thinks she’s fighting her emotions, and you know dogs—they sense emotions almost as well as Empaths.”

I frowned at Luke and Melody. Sure enough, they had a glow about them. Luke gazed adoringly into Melody’s eyes while she fixed him up, dabbing away the crusted blood with a gentle touch. All the while, she gazed down into his eyes, a contented smile on her lips. It looked as though they weren’t even aware of us anymore. They were in a bubble of their own, progressing to tentative touches—a heart-fluttering brush of the fingertips and the odd graze of Melody’s leg against Luke’s side as she shifted position.

But it stopped there. No chaste kisses, no handholding, nothing that would’ve made Nash and me stare desperately into our bottles. They might’ve been in a world of their own, but they were shackled by this world’s duties. Luke to his professional capacity as bodyguard, and Melody to her role as Librarian, which forbade romantic relationships. And if she’d seen Odette’s memories, she knew how breaking those rules could turn out—how her heart would break if anything happened to him, and that they stood to lose something real.

“It’s banned, right?” Nash brought me out of my sad thoughts.

“What?”

“Relationships for Librarians.” He picked at the bottle’s label.

I shook my head. “I reckon there are a fair few who’ve broken those rules, but they’re not here. That speaks volumes.”

“You think she’s worried about a relationship putting Luke in danger?”

Ryann entered at that moment, with bittersweet timing.

“I think anyone in love worries that they’ll end up endangering the person they love,” I said, watching her walk to the couch with an armful of bandages. “It gets worse if you have some kind of target on your back. Anyone who wants to get to you can use the person you love as leverage. That ups the risk, and Melody’s seen enough and knows enough to put anyone off.”

“Geez, Finch, you only had one bottle.” Nash grinned, but sympathy shone in his eyes. Did he understand? Had he figured out my feelings for Ryann? I tried my best to keep it discreet, but people had a habit of calling me on it regardless.

A house ghost dressed as a Civil War-era nurse drifted through a wall and floated up behind Ryann, who’d just bent to set the bandages on the side