May the gods and ancestors be with them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Human Realm
Who knew the book with the scary pictures meant something? Wycke, Queen Saris, and Chynne the Talking Cat with an Attitude could have at least let Piers fully recover from his hangover before shoving him through a portal.
Fuck. He couldn’t think of portals now when he’d just gotten his stomach settled from the twisty knots that might or might not have sent him rushing to the side of his apartment building. It never happened if the security cameras missed him throwing up in the shrubbery.
While he missed Wycke, at least Piers hadn’t hurled in front of his lover.
“Focus,” Chynne snapped from the front pocket of Piers’ jacket, where he’d hidden in frog form after they’d found out that, yes, indeed-y, Piers’ spider phobia rivaled Jess’.
Good thing Chynne didn’t actually need all eight of those legs.
They entered the apartment building. Though they’d left Wycke and Saris in the morning, the sun was setting in Asheville. Piers thought really hard about his stomach feeling better, not a moment too soon. Some greasy food smell emanated from somewhere.
Some powerful sorcerer Piers was. But he did have a familiar or whatever. “Chynne, you’re supposed to be my magical helper, aren’t you?”
Chynne replied in bored tones, “That’s a simple way to describe a familiar. For simple minds.”
“Condescending, much?”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
Piers rode the elevator to the sixth floor. Wait. The night he’d first met Chynne, the elevator had been out of service, then back in service. Chynne’s work, not the superintendent’s. Huh.
Chynne, now returned to cat form, was dogging, or rather, catting Piers’ heels. Placing his ear to the front door, Piers listened. No music, no TV. Jess must not be home.
“Is it the same night as when we left?” Hadn’t Jess texted about staying with a friend? Then again, Wycke rescued Piers after midnight. Damn, and he thought Daylight Saving Time confusing.
“The next night. It’s wearing to constantly return to the time you left,” Chynne said, in tones that clearly saidyou should know that. Pushy cat.
Piers pulled his phone from his pocket to check for messages. Damn it! The battery died during his sojourn in Neverland, so no chance of finding missed messages. Wishing for a full battery accomplished nothing.
Jess would have Piers’ ass for not checking in. Should he wish for her to be home, or not? Either could have… consequences. Then again, if she weren’t home, he’d have to find her and convince her to come with him. How the fuck was he going to explain? Would a picture of a hellhound do as a visual?
“Can you recharge my phone battery?” he asked Chynne.
“Why would I expend valuable energy on something you yourself could easily do?”
“You mean, I can wish it to be?” That would be so useful.
“No. I believe attaching the device to a cord thingy is required.”
“Oh, gee, that’s helpful—not.”
“Anytime.” Oh, yes. Chynne excelled at smug.
Slowly, Piers slipped the door open.
“Jess?” He whispered into the darkness. Chills raced along his spine. The lights had all gone out when the hellhounds chased him. They’d also gone out when Uncle sent Piers running from the apartment.
Not Uncle. A guard who’d been sent to protect him. Images passed before Piers’ eyes, Uncle’s smiling face, while he settled his bulk on the living room floor to play blocks with Piers. How the man sat at Piers’ bedside, reading to him. Kissed him goodnight. Cooked for him. Celebrated his birth season.
No, the guard named Lyvianne hadn’t been an uncle. He’d been a father.
Someone killed Piers’ father and now stalked him. Uncle Lee gave his life for Piers’. Piers wouldn’t surrender his existence lightly. He’d be damned if he’d surrender Jess lightly either.
