Unraveling (The Lost Keepers Book 5) Read online

  He pinned my aunt Millie with deep blue eyes that whispered of mischief, and his mouth pulled into a crooked half-grin as he slid onto a barstool in front of the old soda fountain.

  “That’s Wyatt,” Abby told me quietly. “He comes in here at least once a week.”

  “Are he and Millie friends?” I asked, taking in their easy banter with one another as Abby and I whispered back and forth.

  “He wishes,” Abby said with a snort. “He’s like a loyal little puppy. Totally adorable, but he has no idea when to back off and leave your poor aunt alone.”

  I turned back toward the pair, admiring their casual, playful conversation. Millie didn’t look like she particularly minded the attention the cowboy gave her. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself almost as much as he was.

  Abby disappeared through the curtain into the back room, drawing Millie’s attention back to where I now stood alone. “Oh, Wyatt, I want to introduce you to my niece. This is Everly.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, extending a hand.

  We shook and Wyatt nodded. “That’s quite the handshake you got there, girl. A firm handshake is the trademark of a strong woman. It must run in the family.” He winked.

  “Alright,” Millie said with a smirk. “Knock it off. What can I get you today, Wyatt?”

  “Besides a date?” He kept a completely straight face, but his twinkling eyes gave him away. “I dunno. You got any specials?”

  “Not for you,” Millie teased back.

  I busied myself with organizing bags and rolls of receipt paper under the counter while they flirted back and forth. It was nice to see Millie with a man. She’d never been involved in a serious relationship that I was aware of.

  Was Wyatt her soulmate? He was certainly good-looking enough to be a Keeper. Perhaps that was the reason he kept coming back into the shop. But if that were the case, wouldn’t she know it? If I had a soulmate, I’d probably just run away with him—leave this messy world behind and live for a thousand years in blissful amour.

  “Everly hasn’t gotten her powers yet, but yes, she’s Atlantean, too.” Millie’s tone had changed, her words clipped now. I hadn’t been paying close enough attention to know how the conversation swung back around to me, and I was kicking myself for it. What did Wyatt care about me?

  “Ah, I’m sure they’ll kick in soon. And then we’ll celebrate—the first glass of ambrosia is on me. Speaking of—you got any of them ambrosia berries around here?” He offered a smooth transition away from what was obviously a touchy subject, and I was grateful for it.

  “You know that I don’t.” The sound of a smile had returned to Millie’s voice.

  “Nah, you’re right. I know you like to play by the rules.” Wyatt sounded a little dejected. “But that won’t stop me from coming back next week.”

  “I know that it won’t.”

  “See ya later, Mills.”

  “Bye, Wyatt.”

  I waited until the front door chimed to stand back up again. “Whew,” I said, reaching for my head. “I think I stood up too fast.” The room spun for a second and then a dull throb started at the base of my skull.

  “Go on into the back and have a seat. I’m about to start counting inventory anyway, so I’ll join you.”

  Abby stepped back through the curtain. “I’ll take over out here,” she said with a smile. It was no secret that Abby hated counting inventory.

  Millie pushed open the curtain for me, and we stepped into the back room of her shop. I slid into a spot at the table, resting my forehead on my hand, and Millie lit some kind of herbal incense on a shelf in the corner.

  “Is Wyatt a Keeper, too?”

  “He is,” she said, busying herself with a new shipment packaged up on the floor. “Atlantean.”

  “Are you guys… uh… close?”

  She looked up with a raised brow. “We are friends, yes.”

  “Just friends?”

  “He’s not my soulmate if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Oh.” It was. But I felt it would be rude to pry. Millie’s shoulders stiffened as she returned to her work, so I didn’t think she was too interested in carrying the conversation any further.

  It surprised me when she spoke again. “My soulmate died a hundred and fifty years ago. I was a young woman, and thinking we had eternity together, I didn’t cherish the time as I should have. We’d only known each other a few short years. He was taken from this earth too early.”

  Her hands stopped moving and her chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she stared off into memories I couldn’t see.

  “How—” I stopped myself, realizing the question was probably insensitive. But Millie answered anyway.

  “He was murdered.”

  “What? I thought you were immortal.”

  “Not exactly. We live for about a thousand years. We heal quickly and are difficult to kill. But it’s not impossible with the right amount of power and malice in one’s soul.”

  “But who would do such a thing?”

  Millie sighed. “There are certain factions of Keepers who have different goals than the rest of us. They don’t believe in protecting humans and keeping the earth safe. They’re more interested in taking control of it themselves, even if that means eliminating other Keepers who stand in their way.”

  “I’m sorry, Millie.”

  “Me, too. But I can’t lose hope. His soul may still return to this earth. We may be reunited, yet.”

  We sat quietly for a few minutes. She sorted through the package, and I rested my head until the throbbing in my skull dulled to a slight nuisance rather than a major distraction.

  Then I remembered something Wyatt said, and it got my wheels turning. “Are ambrosia berries a real thing? I thought it was just a liquid?”

  Millie laughed. “Yes. How do you think the drink is made?”

  I supposed that made sense. I’d read stories from the ancient Greek myths that suggested Olympians ate the ambrosia rather than just drinking it. And I learned more and more how true many of those stories had been.

  “Where does it grow?”

  “Only in Olympus. And it’s illegal to possess the berries on earth. They really don’t even like us bringing the beverage down here, but they turn a blind eye in most cases. You know it’s very dangerous if it falls into the hands of mortals. And you—” She looked pointedly in my direction. “You definitely need to stay away from the stuff.”

  “So Wyatt was joking then when he asked about them?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “He loves to tease me about being a rule breaker because he knows how absurd the idea is to me. He’s always playfully asking for black market herbs and berries.”

  Hmm… there was a black market for these kinds of things? I’d have to file that little tidbit away for later. “Why does he want you to break the rules?”

  “Because then I’ll go on a date with him. I swore to my soulmate that I would never betray him for another man. But Wyatt lost his soulmate as well, long before I did. She’s never returned to this earth as far as he knows, and he says it would be better to bide our time together rather than pine for lost lovers alone. But I can’t. I can’t lose hope that he’ll one day return.”

  I sighed. It turned out Millie was quite the romantic, but her story was so tragic. It broke my heart to hear the truth.

  “I’m sure he will, Millie. I’m sure he will.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Our apartment was quiet when I returned after work. I thanked Sean for walking me home and quickly retreated into my room, closing the door behind me so I wouldn’t be disturbed. The stack of books about Keeper history I’d accumulated loomed over my desk. One of these days, I would sit down and read each one cover to cover. But for now I would just continue to skim only the areas that interested me. Today, that meant looking for any mention of ambrosia berries.

  It’s not that I wanted to taste the illicit berries for myself, even if I was a little curious about them. I was more i
nterested in how one might obtain such a thing. If there was truly a black market for Keepers, then I suspected there would be a good chance I might find a link to Rasputin through it. After all, how else would a discriminating fractured soul find the ingredients necessary to practice dark magic?

  None of the information in my books was particularly relevant to today’s modern society, though. There was an old Greek story about Tantalus, a man who decided to steal ambrosia berries from some unsuspecting Olympians and deliver them back to mortals on earth. Things… didn’t end well for him. So it was no wonder the berries and other black market items would be carefully guarded these days. No one in his right mind would want to pay the consequences Tantalus had to pay.

  I was still flipping through the musty pages of old books when a savory smell wafted by, pulling my attention back to the present. I perked up, glancing out the window at the empty sidewalk below before determining it must have been coming from our own kitchen. I’d been cooped up in my room for a couple of hours, so it was about time for me to take a break anyway.

  I eased open my bedroom door to find Dom humming in the kitchen, rinsing what looked like dried brown rice under the faucet. Gayla sat curled up on the corner of the couch watching some reality TV show. “She’s alive!” she said with a chuckle.

  “I think I was brought back to life by this divine scent that crept under my door. What are you making out here, Dom? It smells amazing.”

  “Ah, just a simple sheet pan dinner. I’ve got some chopped broccoli, sweet potato, peppers, and chicken drizzled with olive oil and seasonings roasting in the oven.”

  My mouth was watering. “I had no idea you could cook.”

  “Mama Dom is good at everything!” Gayla said.

  “I’ll get this rice going, and we can eat shortly.” Dom turned back to her work, and I sidled in next to Gayla on the couch. Dom really was good at everything it seemed. She was a star student, a caretaker, and above all else, a rule follower—like Millie. Gayla, on the other hand, liked to play in the gray areas.

  “Hey Gayla,” I whispered so Dom couldn’t hear. “You know what would go great with dinner tonight? A glass of ambrosia.”

  She flashed a grin. “You little rebel. You know you can’t have any of that.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “But out of curiosity, where do you get it?”

  “It’s only made in Olympus. There’s just one approved manufacturer of it, since it’s so potent and dangerous in the wrong hands. They have it tightly monitored. Unfortunately, that means they can also charge whatever they want for it. And it’s not cheap.” She wrinkled her nose.

  If it was expensive for Gayla, then it was definitely out of my league. “If it’s so expensive, how are all these college kids getting a hold of it? There was a ton of it at that St. A’s party.”

  “Rich parents?” She shrugged.

  She wasn’t biting. I would have to be a little more direct to get the information I was really after. “But theoretically, they could make their own, right? If they got their hands on some of the berries?”

  She narrowed her eyes, and for a moment I thought I’d crossed a line. But thankfully she relaxed again and continued talking. “Theoretically, yeah. I guess you’re right. But it’s hard to come across those berries on earth. Smuggling them out of Olympus is no easy task.”

  “Where would they be, though? I mean, surely there’s not just some ambrosia store sitting on a corner in Manhattan.”

  “No, you’d probably have to go through the black market.”

  “And how would one access that black market?”

  She raised her brows. “You’re asking lots of questions. If I didn’t know any better, I might think you were trying to break some laws.”

  “I don’t know of any mortal laws against ambrosia. And I am just a mortal, after all,” I said with what I hoped looked like an innocent grin.

  Her eyes twinkled. “That’s true. You’re crafty. I like it.”

  “So do you know how someone might hypothetically get some of those berries?”

  “If I did, would I be able to get a couple as payment?”

  “Sure, yeah. If that someone could actually find some.”

  Her lip twitched as she considered it. “Well if I knew, I wouldn’t legally be able to tell you. But think about it. You said you saw lots of ambrosia at the St. A’s party. That might lead you to believe they had access to that sort of thing. You know… if there were any dealers on campus, you might find them at St. A’s. But obviously, I didn’t tell you that.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  She grinned and turned back to the TV.

  It wasn’t long before Dom called us over to eat, and the food was as good as it smelled. We kept our conversation light, discussing school and Gayla’s lame date with the Agarthian boy.

  “I mean, I know they can’t all be charming, but this guy seriously had zero personality. It was like talking to a wall.” Gayla scraped up her remaining rice into a neat little pile that she scooped into her mouth.

  “So I take it he wasn’t a siren, then?” Unfortunately I’d had a few too many close interactions with the Agarthian sirens who could make you fall in love with them—or do anything else they commanded— just with a gleam in their eyes and a strange harmony in their words. This is how the hunters were so successful, like Tate and Osborne. But the mean girl, Camille, and the hot actor, Clayton, also had the ability to glamour.

  “Ha! I wish he was.”

  “What was his power, then?” I knew of the other Agarthian mean girls… one with the power to shift into a cat, and one with some kind of weird wind power or something. But other than some of the Greek myths, which I couldn’t be certain were even true, I wasn’t entirely sure what other powers existed among the different Keeper races.

  “Just a basic shifter. And not even a cool one. I think he said he’s like a parakeet or something.”

  “You went out with Adam Polaski, right? I think he shifts into a peregrine falcon,” Dom said. “Big difference.”

  Gayla shrugged. “A bird’s a bird.”

  “You’re a mess!” Dom laughed and stood to gather our dishes. I followed her into the kitchen to help her clean up. “Hey,” she said quietly once we were alone. “Whatever you’re considering… don’t.”

  “Huh?” I set down the dish brush.

  “You and Gayla were talking about something while I was cooking. Whatever it was, it’s a bad idea.”

  “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

  “No, but I can’t help it when your thoughts are screaming from across the room. And I’m glad I couldn’t hear exactly what you were saying. Because the little bit I picked up in your mind when you joined us at the table was enough for me to know that it’s bad news.”

  “Well, maybe that’s a sign that you shouldn’t get involved, then.”

  “Believe me, I won’t. And I hope you won’t get involved with whatever scheme you’re cooking up, either.”

  CHAPTER 4

  I’ve always been a bad listener. And despite Dom’s best attempts to keep me safe, I lived up to my reputation as I snuck out of our apartment a few days later. Gayla would sleep in, as she usually did, and Dom had an early class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so it was my first real chance to get out of there unnoticed.

  But even if I wasn’t the world’s greatest rule follower, I was no thief. That’s why when I stepped out into the hall, I immediately turned back to retrieve the bikini I’d unintentionally taken from the St. A’s house the night I ran from Clayton. One day I might return Tate’s jacket, too. Or maybe not. It still smelled like him, and as much as I hated to admit it even to myself, I liked having it around. Besides, he knew I had it.

  But not the bikini. Those tiny pieces of fabric had to go home.

  Thankfully, Gayla slept like the dead, so I was back out in the hall in no time, dashing toward the stairs just in case someone I knew might be in the elevators. By the time I made it out onto the road, I was feel
ing really good. The plan was coming together beautifully.

  I’d go to the St. A’s house and see about getting some ambrosia berries. I wouldn’t keep them for myself, of course. I didn’t need them. But I wanted to establish a good relationship with whatever kind of black market dealer may reside there. Then, once we were on good enough terms, I’d ask him about Rasputin.

  It should be easy enough. I’d seen enough crime dramas on TV to know that drug dealers were usually pretty friendly as long as you kept them paid and didn’t snitch. And I’d been saving up cash from helping out at Millie’s shop, so paying him wouldn’t be an issue. Plus, I didn’t expect rich Keepers to be quite as scary as the drug dealers on TV. It would be fine. Just fine.

  But as I neared the house, memories of the party with Clayton came tumbling back into my mind. I remembered how he’d glamoured the other students out of the way so he could get me alone in the basement. The pool was entrancing with its blue and purple glow until I went under. I truly thought I would die that day. And maybe I would have if Tate hadn’t arrived when he did.

  It was pretty ironic, actually. Tate—the guy who asked Clayton to nearly kill me so that he could extract my soul and finish the job himself—he was the one who’d rescued me. Maybe he wasn’t such a great hunter, after all… not that I was complaining.

  I turned the corner onto Riverside and stopped dead in my tracks. My luck couldn’t have been any worse. Standing on the sidewalk, looking directly at me, was Sean. He casually dribbled a basketball, chatting with a friend. Maybe, just maybe, I could still get out of there before he registered that I was walking alone without a Keeper guardian. I spun on my heel and took off in the opposite direction.