Drained: The Lucid (27 page)

Hesitation was thick on Riley’s lips. “When did my life get so complicated?” she whispered. Her shoulders sagged with the weight of her thoughts. She turned herself around in Heather’s embrace and kept her floured hands at a distance. Her eyes welled with the beginning signs of excess moisture. “All I do is ruin lives, right? I toy with them.”

Heather pulled Riley into a crushing hug and stroked her hair. She shushed her, and when she pulled back, she wiped at Riley’s tears of frustration. “Sweetie, you don’t ruin lives. Amber was one relationship that didn’t work, but you didn’t ruin her life. It might be absurd, but even humans can recover from our amazing effects.” The joke fell flat, and Riley’s expression didn’t change for the better. Instead, her eyebrows knitted closer together.

Riley wanted to say something. She wanted to confide in Heather, to tell her all the reasons why her lungs felt like they were crumbling, why there was a literal ache in the beating organ deep in the cavity of her chest. Amber’s betrayal was one cut across the delicate organ, but her fight with Morgan was hemorrhaging the last of her sanity. The mark’s words were fresh on her mind, and they were words she couldn’t share.

“Let’s wash your hands.” Heather led Riley to the sink and ran the water.

After the last of the flour mixture went down the drain, Heather pulled Riley into the guest bedroom.

“Lay down.”

Riley numbly, but obediently, slid into bed at the request. She could feel the bed dip with Heather’s weight behind her. A tanned arm once again snaked around her waist.

“It finally sunk in, didn’t it?”

Riley nodded her head.

She’d dated as a human, but she supposed because of her childhood she’d never let anyone close enough to give away her heart. She loved hard and was fiercely loyal—her best friends were evidence of that—but that level of trust was earned, never freely given. Aside from when fulfilling dreams or while with her friends, she couldn’t recall if the words “I love you” had ever come out of her mouth as a succubus. As a human she was sure it had probably been stated, wrapped in naivety, infatuations, and teenage crushes. But True Love—the kind that lasted and evolved and matured beyond simple lust—she wasn’t confident it could exist for her. She was a succubus. She was sex. And she wasn’t good for anyone in the long run.

The two women stayed in that position until Riley’s eyes stopped overflowing. Neither spoke in the silent home, but they could hear their friends outside. The boys were teaching Madison how to throw the ball farther, and she apparently was better than Wyatt. Her carefree laugh could be heard reverberating through the walls.

An alarm on Heather’s watch beeped as a reminder about dinner. The morning had come and gone with the sun setting for the day. The time that they had estimated dinner would be done was quickly approaching. Riley knew it was best that they got around to rejoining their friends before everyone questioned what was wrong with her. At the very least, prepping for dinner would keep her busy.

“We should get things set up.”

“The turkey can burn.” Heather tugged at her to flip over. “If you’re not ready to leave this bed, we’re not going out there.”

A soft laugh escaped Riley’s lips. “You know that I’m looking forward to dinner. And having a turkey would be nice.”

“Are you sure you wanna go back out there?”

“I swear it.” Riley got up from bed and gestured for Heather to head out first. “After you, Miss.”

Heather didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t have much choice but to go along with the lie.

“Before we go,” she whispered. Her fingers carefully wiped under the curve of Riley’s eyes. “Let me fix you up real quick. Stay here.”

Heather retreated to her room and was back after a few minutes of what sounded like rummaging. In her hands, she brought a few selected items from her makeup collection. She motioned for Riley to sit back down on the bed and Riley obliged. For being the most abrasive person in their group of friends, Heather surprisingly had the tenderest touch. She cleaned off Riley’s face and carefully reapplied her mascara, eyeliner, and brushed on a neutral colored eyeshadow. It was simple, but it did the trick for Riley’s taste in everyday makeup.

Riley smiled up at Heather and received a light pat to the side of her face. Brown eyes searched hers, and Riley could almost swear they looked damp. “For what it’s worth, Rillea. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Heather moved to leave the room but before she made it out, Riley caught her by the arm. She placed a small kiss against the inside of her friend’s wrist. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, H.”

“Let’s hold off on the sweet nothings until we see if that damn turkey burned.” Heather looked concerned but managed to smirk. “Hell, you might all end up in the emergency room with food poisoning again.”

It was a legitimate reminder of their many past adventures as friends.

James had taken the role of head chef by the time Riley had emerged from the bedroom with Heather. When he saw her approach, his face softened, and he smiled before addressing her. “I’m assigning you to table duty with Wyatt. Do you remember the proper setup?”

“Why, yes, sir.” Riley batted her eyes and touched the fingertips of one hand to the hollow above her chest. Her Southern accent stressed every word she said. She did her best to shake away her melancholy feelings for the benefit of her friends and the holiday dinner. “I do believe that little ol’ me can remember a few proper etiquette lessons. After all, what kind of Southern belle would I be if I didn’t have the social graces of a proper lady?”

“Oh, shut up.” Heather laughed and went about helping with the preparations in the kitchen. “We all know you shot guns and chopped wood before you even started walking.”

“Aww … baby lumberjack Riles,” Madison gushed. “I want one, that way I could put you in plaid long johns.” There was a bounce in her step as she approached Riley. Well-manicured hands pinched Riley’s cheeks before returning to plating duty.

Riley shook her head at the painful show of affection, but she didn’t mind it too much. After she rubbed at the stinging pain, she joined Wyatt in setting the table. The fine dinnerware was exquisite and the silverware was a complete set; there wasn’t a bread plate, soupspoon, or salad fork missing. Each piece looked as if it had been professionally polished in preparation for the occasion. If Riley remembered correctly, Heather had once mentioned that it was a form of stress relief for her.

The table didn’t take long to set, which left her and Wyatt to fiddle with details such as triangular napkins. Both would have offered to help in the kitchen, but Heather had banished everyone but James after Seven and Madison had started tossing olives and catching them in their mouths. When there wasn’t any fiddling left to do, Riley gripped the back of one the chairs and allowed her gaze to drift over the table setting. Heather had outdone herself on the table decor this time.

Lost in her thoughts, Riley almost screamed when she felt an unexpected finger poke at her side. “Jesus!” Her eyes shot over to the person who had jarred her. “You scared me half to death, Wyatt.”

“Sorry.” His hands slipped into his knitted coat pockets. “I wanted to let you know that I don’t have any news to report.” He made a pained face. “No one I’ve spoken with knows much about Liam’s attack.”

Riley smiled and shook her head in understanding. “Thank you for taking the time to help.” She hadn’t honestly expected Wyatt to find anything, but she wanted answers, and she needed to rule out who she could.

“It’s not a problem.”

“Is it—”

“Riles!” Heather’s voice called from the kitchen. “I need to borrow your muscles in here. All this delectable food isn’t going to carry itself. Seven and Maddie, you’re still banished.” Unlike the previous years, the aroma of the holiday feast smelled rich with herbs and spices. The exquisite scent had Riley’s stomach knotting in hunger.

“The Mistress has summoned me.” Riley sighed and released her grip on the backrest. “If I’m not back in five minutes that means I dropped something. Say something nice at my funeral?” she asked with a wink before backing into the kitchen.

Dinner turned out surprisingly well and without incident. The flaming turkey ordeal didn’t make a second appearance, and Heather was grateful that none were affected by food poisoning; she had made sure to check at several points during the evening.

As dinner ended and they all fell victim to lethargy and tryptophan, Riley found herself in the living room with Wyatt as her one conscious companion. An old western played on the television, but she was pretty sure no one was actually paying attention. Seven was nodding off on one end of the loveseat, and at the other end, Madison was doing her best impression of a zombie. Heather was busy on her tablet in the kitchen, and James was talking on his phone. He, unlike the rest of them, had a mother and a sister still involved in his life. From the way James’s brow was furrowed, Riley figured it was safe to assume that he was on the phone with his mom. Riley had met Annabelle a few times before, and every time she’d been left with a feeling of wonder at how such a charming, thoughtful, amazing man could have been produced by such a self-centered woman.

She watched James pace the empty family room. His hand swept through his golden mane, and he pinched the bridge of his nose on multiple occasions. He looked tense and flustered, nothing like his usual demeanor.

Wyatt’s cough disrupted her scrutiny, but it reminded her that she needed to resume the brief conversation they had had before dinner. She tossed a throw pillow at his head to pull his attention away from the black-and-white film. The firm material made a thumping noise against his skull, and Riley bit back a laugh.

“What was that for?” he complained, rubbing at the side of his head.

She shrugged. “I wanted your attention.”

“A simple psst would have worked.” Wyatt frowned and hugged the throw pillow.

“Earlier, you mentioned that you hadn’t found any connection between your people and Liam’s attack,” Riley started, confident that her other friends were otherwise occupied and wouldn’t overhear.

Wyatt nodded.

“Well, how can you be sure? Did you put everyone through a lie detector test? Aren’t there some rogue custodes who could have been involved?”

“Every group in the history of groups has had that issue.” Wyatt thinned his lips in thought. “But I’m fairly certain that it was no one in the Custodes, not locally at least. The ones I know can’t keep from bragging over how many cubare they’ve ‘put in their place.’ I can’t imagine those same people not talking about bringing down the playboy incubus.”

Riley made an unintelligible grunt at his response; she’d been hoping for a more definitive answer—a way to pinpoint who’d committed the crime. But Wyatt had done her a favor, and for that, she was grateful. Whatever information he provided was better than nothing. She drummed her fingers on the arm of the recliner. “You’re sure there’s no connection?”

He nodded his head. “But, as I was playing Sherlock, I did run into some curious things in our books.”

She perked and leaned forward. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well, it’s financial records.” He rubbed at his chin and frowned. “Things don’t add up—”

Heather plopped into the empty seat next to Wyatt. “James has been on the phone with his mother for over an hour now. What more does that woman have to say?”

“You know Annabelle,” Riley noted. “She’s opinionated.” She watched in amusement as Heather used Wyatt’s shoulder as a pillow.

“I wish I had your calm, Wy.” Heather’s voice was deflated. “But I think even Annabelle would break your cool.”

“There, there.” He patted her head. Riley wasn’t sure if his awkward gesture was due to his personal bubble being violated or if it was because petting Heather was like putting your hands on a wild tiger. “She can’t be that bad.”

“Yes, she is.” Heather pulled away from him. “You don’t know her. She is absolutely that bad. How she managed to raise a man like James is beyond me.”

James walked into the room to join them. “I’m ready for a drink. Mother seems lively as ever.”

“That’s a shame,” Heather muttered under her breath. It earned her a chastising look from both Riley and James.

“You should invite her to Christmas,” Seven piped up, suddenly alert from his perch on the loveseat.

“Why would I ever do that?” James shook his head.

“Because I’m dying to meet her.” Seven grinned before he licked his lips. “And from the photos I’ve seen of her, I think we’d get along famously.”

Seven’s words earned him a collective groan and a few throw pillows launched in his direction.

“You’d better hope Annabelle doesn’t visit,” Heather glowered. “Because wherever she goes, trouble isn’t far behind.”

“Can we all lay off my mom, please?” James sighed.

“Well.” Wyatt stood from his seat and returned the pillow to the sofa. “It’s late, and I think it’s best that I be off for the night. Thank you for the inviting me to dinner.” He nodded in Heather and then in James’s direction. “It was wonderful.”

He waved at all the conscious parties and made his way out.

Riley fidgeted in her seat before deciding to chase after him. Their conversation was still unfinished. “Wyatt?” She stopped a few steps away from his parked car in front of the home.

“Yes?” He looked at her with curiosity. He absently patted at his pockets. “Did I forget my phone, wallet, or possibly my head? That pillow was harder than it looked.”

Riley laughed and shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. I just wanted to see if you would like to meet up with me.”

“I’ll be at the next brunch?” he offered.

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Not being close with Wyatt, she felt unusually flustered in their conversation. It felt like she was asking the man on a date. She considered him a friend, but before the attack on Liam, she couldn’t recall them ever spending one-on-one time together. “I was hoping we could continue the conversation we were having before Heather interrupted.”

For a moment, the custos looked like he was debating if he should agree or not. “I think that’ll be fine.” Wyatt opened his car door and stepped halfway in. “Text me the details.”