Sweet Peril
Page 12

My fingers were on fire, itching to dial a number I didn’t know. I picked up my cell and scrolled through the names until it landed on Marna. Inhaling deeply and letting it out slowly, I pressed Send.
“Gah, what time . . . ?” she muttered groggily. “Hallo?”
I sat up in bed at the sound of her sweet, sleepy English voice. “Can you talk?” I asked.
“Oh, thank God you’re all right, Anna. I’ve been dying to hear from you. Yes, it’s safe here, luv. I needed a lie in this mornin’, but it’s about time I got my arse outta bed. What time is it there?”
It was so good to hear her voice. “It’s late here. Are you guys okay?”
“Sure, sure. Astaroth’s been up our arses, but I’ve been more worried about you.”
I gave her a brief recap of my last six months before taking a deep breath and saying, “Listen . . . I need to get ahold of Kai.”
Silence.
“Are you in danger, Anna?”
“Well, no. I mean, not yet. I just really need to talk to him.”
Marna sighed. “I’m sorry, Anna. Truly. But he’s asked me not to give his number to you. I’ll pass along a message if it’s that important,” she offered.
I’d figured as much, but it still made me feel tight all over to hear it.
“Fine. Tell him I said to call me.” I squeezed the edge of my bed.
“Not happening.” Her response held a no-nonsense warning.
“Why not?” I stood. “Don’t all of you talk to each other? You, Kai, Ginger, Blake—”
“Stop right there, Anna. Kai rarely answers when I call. Blake’s the only one he’ll speak with anymore. I hate telling you no, but I really don’t want to get in the middle of this. What’s gotten your knickers in a twist, anyhow?”
I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation over the phone, and we both knew it.
“I’ll need to see you soon,” I whispered.
“Sounds interesting.” There was a grin in her voice. I wanted to smile, too, at the thought of Marna being free of her father’s control.
“How’s work?” I asked.
“We’re busy breaking hearts by the dozens,” she deadpanned.
“I’m sure your father is proud.”
“Oh, terribly.”
“Hey, I have a weird question,” I said. “What does it mean if a guy calls you ‘bang tidy’?”
Marna snorted. “Sounds like something a dirty wanker would say. Or someone pissing about.”
Now it was my turn to snort, because she’d called Kai a wanker.
We got quiet.
“Please,” I whispered. I knew I sounded as desperate as I was. “Can’t you tell me anything? Because I saw him tonight and even though he can be so mean, I know he still cares. I know it. Please, Marna.”
“All right!” Her fierce whisper halted my pushiness. The line was so silent I thought she’d hung up on me. “Fine. I’ll tell you something he told me. He admitted last week there’s a woman at the studio who’s always trying to chat him up. But apparently he ignores her advances because she’s this kind, cute little blonde whose name also happens to be Anna. She obviously reminds him of you.”
Her words spiked inside me.
“What else did he say?” I whispered.
“Nothing. I couldn’t get another word out of him, and that’s the truth. He only told me that ’cause I caught up to him while he was high at a party.”
“High?”
My heart began a quick gallop. What was he doing? Smoking? Snorting something? And, oh, gosh, why was I tingling all over? Lately my attraction to drugs had escalated. I’d been lucky. The demons thought alcohol was my specialty, and I’d mostly been able to avoid parties with drugs. But lately I’d been having dreams about just letting go. No more caution or responsibility or thinking. The very idea of being high . . . with Kaidan . . . I let out a strangled sound. Marna cursed under her breath.
“Get ahold of yourself. I shouldn’t have told you that.” She sighed. “And it’s not like he does it all the time. There’d been a whisperer doing rounds nearby him that night, so when offered he couldn’t say no.”
I sobered at the mention of a demon whisperer near Kaidan.
“What do you think’s going on with him?” I asked. “He won’t talk to me.”
“I think he’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic. I know you want to believe he feels the same as you, but what if he doesn’t? I love him, but he’s a funny one, Anna. Finicky. I’m telling you for your own good. . . .” I hated her remorseful tone. “Let him go, luv. He won’t budge when he’s made his mind up about something. He’s gone.”
Gone. A ragged breath caught in my chest.
“I’ve got to go,” Marna said. “Ginger’s waking.”
“Take care, Marna,” I whispered.
“You as well,” she whispered back.
My body wanted to cry—to soak my pillow in tears, but they wouldn’t come. Instead I ended up on the floor, on my knees, pulling down the pillow to muffle my gasps for air. I’d known since Kai left that I’d have to let go of him, but it was a fresh slice of pain to hear Marna say it. I’d tried to come to terms with not having the things I wanted. I knew there would be something bigger to focus on someday, bigger than my life and my worries. And now it was happening. But I never imagined my life’s mission would be coupled with such agony and loss.