“You’ve lost your shit,” Thomas says, happy with himself for getting another modern phrase right. “You’ve become obsessed, and not in a good way.”
“I’m working,” I insist, shaking my head.
“I get it, Ace,” Gemma tries. “I lost my parents too.”
“It’s not the same. Mine were murdered while I slept peacefully in the house, and somebody somewhere has been keeping track of all the murders like my parents’ for years. I need to find out who they are and what they know.”
“You’ve been trying, Ace,” Gil presses. “And we all know by now whoever sent those files wanted this reaction out of you. They wanted to unnerve you.”
“I’m not unnerved. I’m pissed the fuck off.”
“There’s not much difference at this point,” Thomas says gently. “Come on, Ace. You’re smart. And part of being smart is knowing when it’s time to find a different approach.”
“What do you suggest?” I throw my hands in the air. “I mean, if you have a brilliant break-through idea, please, let me hear it.”
The three of them look at each other. “Let it go for now,” Gemma says, looking sorry as she speaks. “Whoever was able to get those files covered their tracks. You made sure of it. They’re right.” She motions to the twins. “Whoever sent you the files wants to get under your skin. You’re not sleeping, you’re hardly eating—”
“And not fucking,” Thomas adds, earning a glare from me.
“My point is,” Gemma presses, “you’re off your game. Which is what we think they want. Simply put, you’re shaken.”
I can’t disagree. For the last four days, this is all I’ve been able to think about. Who sent the files. How they got them. Why they were keeping track of whatever the hell it was that killed my parents.
Was it a demon? The same demon? Or are there a bunch of them, wandering the streets like the vampires and looking human, tricking us all? And why—dammit. I guess my friends are right.
“Okay, fine. I see your point.”
“You do?” they all say in unison.
“Yeah. And I’ve been slightly preoccupied.”
“Slightly?” Gilbert mumbles under his breath, and Thomas elbows him in the ribs.
“It’s fine,” Gemma goes on, turning to get plates. “Eat dinner, then we’ll watch some TV together and go to bed.”
“After we have sex.” Thomas raises his eyebrows and Gemma rolls her eyes. “What?” He shrugs. “You sleep better after you have an orgasm.”
“Or three,” Gilbert adds.
And now I’m rolling my eyes. “Where are Jac and Hasan?”
“The roof.” Gil looks up. “I’ll get them.”
“Thanks.” I pick up the bottle of wine from the counter and pour myself a generous glass. I’ve been so tense that the last few days have passed in a blur. There is merit in everything the guys and Gemma said. I don’t want it to be true, but I know it is. Which means there is much, much more to this story and the pages will come fluttering down around me eventually.
I swallow a mouthful of wine, knowing it will hit me fast. I don’t remember the last time I ate. This morning, maybe? Gemma made me bacon and eggs and I hardly touched it, which seems like a sin now. I fucking love bacon.
I take another gulp of wine, wanting to feel a buzz so I can relax and enjoy dinner. I top off my glass and then go about setting the table. The front door opens and closes, and a second or two later, I feel a gush of warm, humid air rush through the house. It’s been warm the last few days. Really warm.
“Remember when being cold was an issue?” I ask Jac as he walks into the kitchen, followed by Hasan. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, making my heart flutter just a bit. He’s voiced his thoughts on me being Gollum and the papersmy precious, but I think he’s just as curious as I am to get to the bottom of this.
“I do,” he says. “Seems like long ago and at the same time just like yesterday.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Does a year even seem long to you?” Gemma asks, carrying the last dish to the table. “I mean, you’re like a thousand years old, right?”
“Not quite,” Jacques says, pulling out a chair to sit in. “I’ve been looking over calendars and did the math. We were cursed nine hundred and ninety-nine years ago.”
