Logan pulls in high up on the driveway as Demetri’s house sprouts up like an overgrown haunted jack-o-lantern.
“He’s not going to tell us anything new. Whybother?”
“Dude.” Logan winces as we hop out of the car and into the damp Paragon night. “You need to loosen up. You’re already in deep shit. What the hell do you have tolose?”
We head on up, and I give a brisk knock to the door before letting myself inside. “The damn thing is neverlocked.”
“Of course, it’s not”—Logan smirks—“the most dangerous person on the island is in the house. He probably craves thechallenge.”
We step through the foyer and into the cavernous living room with its wall-to-wall marble flooring, the enormous fireplace blazing with flames, and not too far from that, Demetri laughs it up with some dude dressed in a trenchcoat.
“Dudley?” Logan and I say inunison.
“Gentlemen!” Demetri holds out his arms, welcoming us, an amber-colored drink cradled in one hand and a cigar in the other. Dudley is sporting the same toxicduet.
I pause a moment, taking in the strange sight. First, I don’t know Demetri and Dudley to be scotch toting, cigar smoking friends. Second—“What the hell is up with the celebration?” My blood boils at the thought of the two of them saluting my efforts to take a walk on the wickedside.
“Young Olivers.” Dudley frowns at the sight of us before taking a puff of that stogie in hishand.
“Son!” Demetri takes a few steps forward as Logan and I head over. “Please—you and your uncle must partake.” He points to the bar behind him. “Whiskey aged seven hundred years in an oakbarrel.”
Dudley grunts. “How many times do I have to inform you it’s scotch? It’s from Scotland. It must be referred to asscotch.”
I calledit.
“I suppose the whiskey is in the details.” Demetri winks myway.
“It’s the devil,” Logan says, heading over and pouring himself a finger length and one for myself. Neither Logan nor I are big drinkers, but something this rare should probably wet our tongues if for nothing else but the novelty ofit.
“Cuban cigars.” Demetri tips his head to the humidor resting next to the whiskey—scotchwhatever.
“Interesting.” I take up two and hand one toLogan.
Logan looks to Dudley. “When inRome.”
Buried in that phrase is a barb about his honeymoon with Skyla. I’m not sure how Dudley fits into the equation, but I know for a fact he does. Dudley always seems to factor into theequation.
Demetri lights us up, and before you know it, the four of us are smoking cigars and swilling scotch like old friends. I wish I could say there was tension in the room. I wish I could say that Logan and I were about to go postal and toss both of their celestial asses into the fire, but the truth is, we’re too busy amusing ourselves with the flavor of smoke on our tongues. I take a sip of the scotch, and a fire burns straight down through my esophagus. Tastes bitter and sweet at the same time—like life and death all rolled into one. It tastes like my own tears the night I gifted my destiny to the devil standing beforeme.
“What brings you this way?” Dudley blows a plume of smoke in our direction. “Let me guess. Skyla has you lathered in a tizzy, and now you’ve come to claw your way out of the havoc you’ve ensnared yourself in.” He and Demetri share a laugh, and it stunsme.
“Is this what you do in your spare time?” I’m talking to Dudley more than I am Demetri. “Laugh at the state of Skyla’s world? I am a part of her world whether or not you’ve bothered tonotice.”
Dudley’s affect falls hard and flat. “I am Skyla’s world. The two of you are simply stepping stones that destiny has laid out to ease her path tome.”
Logan scoffs at the arrogant Sector. “The boys are her world, Dudley. Check your ego. I’m no stepping-stone, and neither is Gage. We are boulders,partitionsto a love that you will never feel. You’ll never have her heart. Not the way we haveit.”
A silent laugh bounces through me, but I can’t help it. Logan is right. Skyla loves us both. I’m not up for sharing, though. Honest to God, half the time I think I’m the boulder, the partition to his love with Skyla. But I’m greedy as hell when it comes to that girl. She’s mine, and I’m not sharing withanyone.
“Interesting.” Dudley pegs me with a look that assures me he’s heard every word. I don’t know all of the details concerning his powers, and I’m not interested. Instead, I take another puff of the cigar and blow my own billow of smoke his way. I take another swig of the scotch and enjoy the burn all the waydown.
“What men you’ve turned into.” Dudley scoffs, that dead look in his eyes is targeted right at me. “It must make you feel quite grown up with a drink in your hand, a Cuban at theready.”
“Now, now,Dudley.” Demetri gives a sarcastic smile to the Sector. It’s clear he’s playing off the name Logan and I choose to use with him. “This is a rite of passage. And a privilege, considering the aged libation, the aged Cuban in our hands aswell.”
“What are you boys celebrating, anyway?” Logan puffs away on his cigar as if all of the angst and tension he just ushered into the room a few moments ago were simply forshow.
“Ezrina.” Dudley tips his head toward him. “She’s with child. She and Heathcliff will be parents comefall.”
