When The Grave Calls (The Veil Diaries #9) - B.L. Brunnemer Page 0,43
Asher found me.
“You okay?” he asked as he sat down beside me on the couch.
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Miles fell back asleep, so that’s good.”
“That’s not what I was asking,” Asher pointed out.
I gave him a small sad smile. “I was just sitting here, waiting for Jake to show up.”
He sighed. “Yeah, about Jake …”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I think you need to tell him to stay away for a while,” he said. “At least until everything is settled with Jadis.”
“You too?”
He nodded.
“I was thinking the same thing.” I shifted on the couch so that my back was against the arm and slid my feet under his leg.
Asher reached over and took the throw off the back of the couch then covered me with it. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t seem to get warm today. Autumn was in full force, but it wasn’t that kind of cold. “It’d be safer for him.”
I pulled the blanket up to my chest and rested my head against the back of the couch. “I know. I was going to talk to him about it.”
“I’m sorry, Ally,” he said softly.
I half shrugged. “It’s only until this is over.”
He snorted. “You know, we keep saying that. And we have no idea when it’ll be over.”
“Yeah, I can barely keep up as it is. Especially not with date nights.”
His hand slipped up to rest on the outside of my knee. “You’re doing good, honey.”
“Thanks.”
We stayed like for several heartbeats.
His face grew somber. “I don’t know what to talk about right now.”
My lips twitched. “Do we have to talk?”
He chuckled. His eyes lighting up. “You sound like Zeke.”
I guess I did. “There’s just never any time to just, be. You know?”
He nodded as he squeezed my knee. “I know.”
My feet ended up in his lap, his hands rubbing the arch of my foot as we sat looking at the fire in the fireplace. It was nice. Peaceful. Exactly what we needed.
By the time there was a knock on the door, I felt ready to talk to Jake.
Asher got to his feet and answered the door.
Jake walked in a few seconds later. Jake was a good-looking guy, his short-styled blond hair streaked with lighter blond highlights.
A polite expression crossed his face, but it never reached his eyes. “What happened?”
I sighed. “Someone tried to kill Rory.”
The blood drained from his face. “What?”
I nodded, tucking my feet back under my blanket. “Rory was run off the road and had his car set on fire.”
“But he’s okay. Right?”
“Yeah.” The ache in my chest easing slightly.
He nodded, then pointed out the large front window. “Why are there people practicing fighting out on the lawn?”
“Shapeshifter practice.”
His eyebrows went up. “Oh, okay. Shapeshifters. Right.”
Jake was still getting used to the new world we had introduced him to. It wasn’t exactly easy to just think in supernatural terms.
Jake leaned towards me. “Are you really okay? That can’t be it?”
I shook my head and opened my mouth. I never even meant to, but I found myself pouring my heart out to Jake. It was easier than talking to the guys right now. They were just as in this as I was. They were facing torture or death. Jake wasn’t. I could unload it all without guilt. I spoke about everything bothering me. Miles, the funeral coming up, my mother, the pressure of dating all the guys. All of it. In the end, I scrubbed my hands down my face. “Sorry to unload like this.”
He gave me a soft smile. “It’s okay, we’re friends, right?”
“I just, I don’t want to burden the guys when they’re stressed out too.”
He narrowed his eyes on mine. “But that’s what they’re here for. To support you, and you them.”
“Yeah, I know.” I wiped my face again.
“Try talking to them,” he said as he squeezed my hand. “You’ll feel better.”
I nodded. “I am. I just lost it a little.”
The warmth in his eyes faded. “So, the fight is still going?”
I nodded. “How is Dylan’s dad?”
“He’s lost even more weight.” Jake sighed. “They’re talking of putting him on hospice care and adding a feeding tube.”
A sigh escaped my lips. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
His expression darkened. “Isn’t there something you can do? A spell? Anything?”
I shook my head. “I can’t heal people. I don’t even think the witches can. I’m sorry.”
He swallowed hard and looked at the fire. “Yeah, everyone’s sorry.”
He turned back to me, that polite expression plastered to his face once more. “It sucks, but we’ll manage. We always do.”