Chapter One Hundred and Forty Three
...
She knew they had more hydrangeas in stock and she was going to get them. That second employee had mentioned the greenhouses before she'd left, so they were obviously keeping the extra plants in there. She'd leave money behind so it wouldn't be stealing. She just wanted the goods she was already owed.
Sneaking down the hill and avoiding the forest entirely, she snuck around the back and headed to the greenhouse, the moon reflecting off the glass briefly before it hid behind the clouds. Trying the handle, she was annoyed that it was locked. Didn't people trust people anymore? Taking out her lock picking tools, she started to work on the lock.
Five minutes later, she was cursing under her breath as the lock still refused to open. The instructions on YouTube made it look so much easier than this!
Plan B was next and she put the lock picking tools away, then grabbed a rock from her bag. Pulling her hand back to let it fly, she let out a scream of surprise when her hand was grabbed in the darkness behind her. Spinning around awkwardly, she glared. "How dare you! Unhand me this instant!"
Laughter came from the Hive, light flooding the area as the curtains opened to reveal several teenagers crowded up against the window. They were watching and laughing, some even filming with their phones.
What rude, insolent children!
"Ma'am, let go of the rock."
Turning to face the person who still held her gloved hand, she tried not to wince on seeing the same man who had made her leave the first time she'd visited the Hive.
"Let go of me!"
"Not until you let go of the rock."
She grit her teeth and nodded, dropping the rock from her hand. It fell to the ground with a dull thud but then there was a squelching sound and when she looked down, the rock was gone. Connor let her go, as promised, as he knew that Adam was already on the phone to the police.
"Give that back! I paid good money for that!"
"You paid money for a rock?" Connor asked incredulously.
"Of course. Where else was I going to find a rock in suburbia?"
Connor didn't want to point out the numerous rocks around them, and just shook his head, leading the woman over to the Hive. "You can wait inside until the police arrive."
"The police?! Why? I didn't actually steal anything!"
"Intent to steal is just as bad," Ethan said.
"No, it's not!"
Connor glanced out to the forest, suddenly aware of the weapon trees, even without Ethan's map. In the distance, he could feel a faint knowledge of the gun he'd made in the Army all those years ago. It certainly wasn't in the direction of the barracks or even where he'd last left it in Mississippi. In fact, Connor was positive it was further north. Montana? Why the hell was it there?
The woman let out a cry, disrupting his thoughts, and ran out of the back door into Eden's forest. To Connor's surprise, no one went after her. He looked at their expressions of amusement and disappointment, then looked to Layla and Warren. "Should I go after her?"
"No need. The trees will handle it. Ace, how far away are the police? We want her out of there before they arrive," Layla said.
"About ten minutes. Lucky this isn't an emergency," he muttered.
"You can go watch. Stick to the treetops," Donny said to Connor.
Curious beyond belief, he just nodded and headed out to the small forest. What on earth could trees do?!
She ran out of the house and into the trees. She could lose them in here, and after those rude kids got into trouble for prank-calling the police and were taken to the station to be taught a lesson, she would go back to the greenhouses and get her hydrangeas. She would get them no matter what.
A tree branch hit her shoulder as she ran through the forest and her foot slipped on a wet tree root, but she didn't dare turn her phone light on. That was how idiots were caught, after all.
She kept running and turned sharply so they would lose her trail. She knew how this worked after watching tracking videos online. She would need water to confuse any dogs if the police decided to believe those rude children.
Realising she had driven here in her own car, she stopped abruptly. Well, she could just tell the police it was stolen. In fact, she could blame one of those kids for stealing her car and driving it all the way out here. She could get the hydrangeas for free as an apology, if she was feeling lenient.
A branch swiped at her shoulder. Something slithered over her foot and she jumped back at the feeling. Were there snakes in here?!
Jumping back had her knocking into a solid tree trunk. She turned and looked at the trail she'd left, certain that there hadn't been a tree there. No, she couldn't focus on this. She had to keep moving and escape. Turning back, she saw another tree far too close.
What the hell was going on here?
Another branch swung down to hit her shoulder. As she swallowed hard, her heart pounding in fear, she realised there was no breeze to make them move. It was ridiculous, of course, and just an animal running across branches.
Another branch, another branch, and another. These ones looked like they had hands, long fingers reaching for her. She screamed and tried to run, a root in her way, and she fell down with a solid thump.
Connor climbed down from the trees carefully. He watched as the branches returned to reach to the sky, and promptly decided to never hurt the trees if he could help it. He patted the tree trunk and thanked it, just for good measure.
"Exactly where is this attempted robber?" the officer asked, looking between the teenagers and trying not to be frustrated at this ridiculous prank.
Didn't they know he had more important things to worry about?
"Right here, Officer. She tried to escape. I hope this lot wasn't too unruly for you," Connor said, leading a woman out of the trees.
She was covered in dirt and leaves, and babbled something about trees with fingers with pure terror in her voice and sweat drenching her pale skin. The officer looked between the group of teens and the two adults.
"She tripped over a tree root and hit her head. I wouldn't take it seriously," Connor said, letting go of the woman so she could stumble forward.
"Right. We'll need statements - "
"We have security footage," Adam said, pointing up to the camera above the Hive's exit.
Connor doubted that had been there ten minutes ago, but Terrence looked completely innocent.
"All right. We can review that and call if we have any questions. Do you have a phone number we can contact you on?" the officer asked.
Connor pulled out his wallet and handed the man a business card. "My work number is on there."
"Thank you. Come along. You have the right to remain silent," the officer began, leading the woman through the Hive and out to his car in the parking lot.
There was silence until they heard the car leave, and then Ryuu threw himself at Connor in an attack.
"Not inside the house!" Layla called.
Connor stepped back into Eden, gesturing to Ryuu with a 'bring it on' movement before slipping into the trees. Ryuu grinned and followed him, feet silent despite the leafy undergrowth.
Craig snickered and ran after them. "Yes, Mum! C'mon already! We can't let him win!"
Realising the game was to beat Connor, the others piled out of the Hive and into Eden. Terrence laughed, a drone in his hands and flying up into the sky a moment later.
"Not too high or you'll set off my alarms!" Adam called, following after Terrence.
"What alarms?" Warren asked with a frown, not receiving a response.
Layla closed the door behind the last of their friends' exit - Pat was apparently armed with the four frogs - and closed the vine curtain behind her. She moved to kiss him, hot and hard, but slipped away before he could respond. "Beat you downstairs," she said over her shoulder, vines replacing hands.
Warren was after her in a second, a trail of flames burning to ash behind him.
...
Victor woke up far too early to a noise nearby. Sitting up and thinking of the twins, he frowned as he remembered his mother had taken them to Hyacinth's for the night. He had the house to himself since Ry and Craig were at the Hive, and Connor was doing a work thing with Honey. He turned on the light as he heard another noise, wondering if he should bother investigating. If someone had broken in, they'd get distracted by his mother's Swarovski collection and leave him to sleep, right?
There was the noise again. It was at his window. Looking over, Victor saw a small rock hit the pane of glass. Maybe Craig had come home and locked himself out? Heading over to the window, Victor opened the curtains and looked down, surprised to see Connor standing there. Opening the window, he leaned out and gave a half-hearted glare. "What are you doing? Do you know what time it is?"
"Throwing rocks at your window. I think it's about two thirty."
"Why are you throwing rocks at my window at two thirty in the morning? Are you drunk?"
"I wanted to see you and breaking in is probably just a little too intense, darling. I don't think I'm drunk. I don't know how many soft drinks I've had though, so maybe it's the sugar?"
This whispered conversation was becoming far too loud and someone was going to come snooping at their windows soon, Victor just knew it. "I'll be down to let you in in a second."
"Thank you, darling. Also, don't bother getting changed," Connor said with a broad grin.
Somehow Victor felt as though Connor had given him a once over even without looking at his whole body. He hurried downstairs in just his boxers, trying not to blush at the thought of being seen by anyone other than Connor. Unlocking and opening the door a crack, he sighed in relief when he saw Connor waiting at the door. "Come in. Quickly, it's cold out there," Victor muttered, opening the door wide for Connor.
"Thank you, darling."
"Care to explain what the hell is going on?" Victor asked, trying to sound cross.
"I don't think I can without sounding insane, darling. So, I'll tell you the truth: I wanted to see you."
Blue, though there was a lilac colour threaded throughout it to indicate it wasn't the whole truth. Still, the blue was so overwhelming that for a moment, Victor couldn't respond. As he watched, pink love and red lust started to build and break through the true blue, teasing tan threading the two colours together.
"You look delicious tonight, darling, and I'm finding myself famished," Connor murmured, stepping close to cup Victor's cheek, his hand warm despite the cool air outside.
"You could have just text," Victor muttered.
"But then I wouldn't be able to touch you or taste you," Connor murmured, kissing him firmly. "Please say I can touch and taste you, darling."
"Yes," Victor replied, his mouth still slotted against Connor's.
Connor pressed their bodies together and slipped his hands beneath the elastic of Victor's boxers, grabbing his ass in two generous handfuls. Victor wrapped his legs around Connor's waist, kissing him in return deeply, and biting back a moan as Connor rubbed his beard against his cheek.
"Don't hold back, darling. Tonight we've got the house to ourselves and I want to hear you scream my name," Connor breathed, an intensity to his gaze and words that made Victor's heart speed up in anticipation.
"Fuck me."
"Oh, I intend to, darling."
...
"It's five thirty. Do you think they'll hate us?" Warren asked, skin returning as he drew patterns on Layla's vines with burning hot fingertips.
"Adam will. Robin won't. I'm orgasmed out," Layla said, a vine capturing a flame.
Warren made a guttural groan, fire cracking, and thrust the flame into her hand, his dick forming with barely a thought. "I'm not."
"Five orgasms it is," Layla said with a laugh, curling vine legs around his flames.
She lowered her mouth, vines becoming tongue and teeth against his skin and flames.
...
"Again? For fuck's sakes," Beau panted, sweaty and sore.
"Holy fuck. Craig, I need you. I can't move my wrist anymore," Jewel said with a groan.
"Which toy do you want, babe?" Craig asked from his computer screen.
"Anything, just... ah, fuck, make it quick," she groaned, a toy floating into the air in front of her. She could hear Grant and Beau panting, the slide of skin on skin, but let out a cry as a fifth damn orgasm started to build. "Craig!"
"I've got you, babe," Craig promised.
...
"Fucking fuckers, you fucking suck!" Adam swore as his dick woke him up again. "You're supposed to be wearing cuffs!" he snapped at the speakers.
"We did," Layla called.
"Busy," Warren added, or at least that's what Adam thought he said because his voice was muffled and ewww.
"Honey, why aren't there stronger cuffs?"
"They were. Meant. To wear. All of them," Honey said, a breathlessness to her voice that made Adam wince.
She screamed as Layla screamed as Jewel screamed as Craig and Grant and Beau screamed.
"Nope. I refuse. I'm not listening and you all suck."
Adam turned off all the damn speakers and went to have another shower. This was super gross.
...
"Don't rub at them, Zach, you'll scar," Ethan murmured, kissing his cheek.
Zach smiled and glowed, moving his shirt to cover the rope burn on his wrist. "At least they did them later than yesterday. Did you get a better sleep?"
"I did. I know you did, too," Ethan said with a grin.
"What are you two smiling about this morning?" Anita asked as she entered the kitchen, Heidi yawning widely behind her.
Zach took a large bite of his toast, and Ethan drank his juice.
"Oh, it's like that? You can tell the priest then."
Zach choked on his food. "How much detail do priests need?"
"Not that much," Anita said with a wince.
Even no information was still somehow too much.
Heidi wrinkled her nose at them and signed TMI.
...
Victor was dead. He couldn't feel his legs or his ass and he couldn't move. Obviously the only conclusion was that he'd died because of Connor's dick.
"Good morning, darling," Connor murmured, kissing him.
"Nggh."
"You're still out of it? Jesus, I'm sorry, darling. If I'd known... well, I probably still would have fucked your brains out."
Blue truth and red lust and pink love; that was still working, at least. Scarlet satisfaction was new, but Victor figured Connor more than deserved it.
"I'll look after you, okay? Coffee and breakfast?" Connor offered and Victor managed to nod. Connor smiled and kissed him briefly. "Good. Now, don't go anywhere and I'll spoil you silly."
Victor hummed contentedly. Mind blowing sex and breakfast in bed? He was going to marry that man one day.
...
Pat was chafed and pissed off. When Robin had mentioned orgasms, he didn't think he'd have plural. Or that they would happen that damn night.
"How are you feeling this morning, Pat?" Lorcan asked when he walked into the kitchen gingerly.
"Honestly? Sore. How about you?"
"About the same. I shifted to avoid most of it. Still, frog orgasms are weird."
"Why?"
"Well, it's less an orgasm and more a desire to mate. I was singing like crazy. My throat is killing me."
"I'd prefer that; my dick hurts."
Adam glared at them both from the doorway. "Shut up while I get my coffee or you're next on my list."
"What list?" Pat asked curiously, then zipped his lips when Adam glared at him.
Adam walked into the kitchen to get his mug, muttering under his breath. The few words Pat did hear didn't make any sense, so he and Lorcan waited until Adam left the kitchen again with his mug in hand.
"What do you reckon the list is?" Lorcan mused, sipping at his honey and lemon drink to ease his throat.
"Judging this lot, probably a list of people to kill."
Lorcan snorted. "Yeah, probably. You should wear the kilt. It'll help lessen chafing."
"Mm. Not a bad idea. I think it's still in my bag. Nigel's probably found it by now."
"Does Nigel usually go through your shit?"
Pat shook his head. "He does a scan to make sure there's no bombs or whatever. But he still teases me if there's anything he deems worthy. I had one page with I heart Matt and he wouldn't shut up about it for three weeks. Mam threatened to rewire him. Then, like, a year later it was my initials and some girl, and it was the same shit all over again."
Lorcan laughed, stopping with a wince and drinking his tea slowly. "No flirting with you in the car, got it."
"Wait, what?"
"We like you, Pat. As much as we don't share food, we're willing to share other things."
"We?"
Lorcan shrugged; three frogs jumped off his shoulder and landed on the table. Najair shifted first, slipping onto the bench beside Lorcan, then Maleah and Kiara followed.
Pat honestly had no idea what to say or how to respond. He focused on something simple because he couldn't cope with the enormity of what Lorcan had said. "You're not wearing gloves. Or long sleeves."
With their limbs uncovered he could see that their skin had the same colouring as their hair, mottled in places and stripes or spots in others.
Kiara grinned. "We can control it now. Before yesterday, we couldn't, and we couldn't risk accidentally poisoning people."
"It wouldn't have been an accident," Najair muttered, tying his pink hair up in a messy bun.
Lorcan took his hand and squeezed. "I'll poison her myself and claim it to be an accident. Besides, if she's close enough to poison that means she's close enough to touch me."
"I don't want her touching you. You've been having nightmares for weeks, Lore," Maleah said, frowning.
"Fine, who wants to volunteer to poison her?" Lorcan asked, looking at the three of them.
"I'll do it," Pat said. "You can coat things with poison, right?"
"We're not coating you with poison, Pat."
"If it means I get to rub myself all over you, I will," Najair said, giving Pat a very obvious once over.
An odd sound filled the air and Lorcan blushed, nudging Najair. "You spotted ass! Stop doing that. You know my throat hurts."
"You should've stayed human. The orgasms were worth it," Najair said, Maleah and Kiara nodding in agreement. "And leave my ass out of this."
Pat blushed red at the thought of Najair's ass. He had a very nice one; Pat had only noticed because Najair sat on the grass at lunch and often asked him if he had any grass stains on his clothes and - oh, he'd been flirting.
"I don't think it's a wise idea to coat your clothes in poison, Pat. What if you knock into someone or sneeze in the crook of your arm or something?" Kiara pointed out.
"We want to date you, not hurt you," Maleah added firmly.
Pat shrugged. "I think it would be easier to poison Magenta if I did it; you wouldn't be blamed then."
"It'd be worth detention to poison her."
"That power suppressing room is not fun. It takes a lot of energy to get around that restriction," Warren said as he walked into the kitchen. He filled up two glasses of water and looked over to the group. "Who are you poisoning?"
"Magenta."
"Ah, right. Not lethally, I hope? Layla has plans for her."
"Do they involve death? Sooner rather than later?" Maleah asked.
"That's something to ask Layla, not me."
He knew, obviously, but it was Layla's plan so she should be the one to tell them. Sipping at his water, he headed back to the lower Hive where Layla was waiting. There was a rush of noise behind him as the other five followed.
Layla seemed amused to see the frogs and Pat following him like ducks, and took the water with a kiss of thanks. "What's going on?"
"We want to kill Magenta," Lorcan said.
"And throw her lifeless body off the edge of the school."
Layla raised an eyebrow at Pat's additional words and set her glass down on a vine table. "Right now?"
"Monday."
Layla shook her head and the doorway closed with thick vines, blocking any noise from escaping. "Let me tell you my plans for Magenta and see if you still want her dead on Monday."
"Before you do that, I want an apology for last night. Or at least some advanced warning next time!" Adam snapped from their phones.
Layla blushed. "We already apologised to you, Ace."
"Neither of you were sincere about that apology," Adam scoffed.
"We didn't know we were meant to wear the whole bag of power suppressors at once," Warren muttered. "We will tonight."
"Three days in a row? For fuck's sakes, no. Honey!" Adam called, obviously waking her to join.
"Mm?"
"They're going to do it again! Tonight!"
"Cuffs. All of them, this time," Honey added.
"I'm going to feel like the Marshmallow Man with that many cuffs on," Warren muttered.
"Good. Maybe it'll stop you from doing all that again," Adam snapped.
"I'll just practice so I have better control."
"Can we get back to the reason why we're not killing Magenta?" Pat asked, though he made a mental note to buy anti-chafing cream on the way home.
...
"Any calls while I was out, Charlie?" Bill asked, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the hook.
"Several, sir," Charlie replied, packing their things away so they could go home.
"Any of 'em important?"
"One. I've left it on your desk."
"Thanking you kindly, Charlie."
"Don't stay too late, Bill," Charlie called, grabbing their bag to leave.
"You have a good night, Charlie. I'll see you in the morning," Bill said, already distracted by the note on his desk.
The message itself wasn't important, but the colour of the post-it was. Swearing under his breath, Bill took his phone off the hook and dialled a number he'd never forget.
...
Honey set her phone down, her hands clammy and trembling. Forcing herself to breathe and get control once more, she waited until the trembling had stopped before standing and walking to the bathroom.
Pressing her hand to the mirror, she waited for a moment, hoping the seer would catch her reflection.
"We're coming. Two more weeks."
...
"Two more weeks," the seer announced, their own reflection appearing in the window beside them.
"You're sure?" a small girl whispered, eyes wide.
The seer nodded. "I'm sure."
Excited whispers started around the room, but they weren't quiet enough. The door slammed open at the far end of the room, silence descending in its wake. "What is going on here?" the warden demanded.
The seer stood on unsteady legs. "I was having a nightmare."
"Oh, you think I care? Everyone, back to your beds!"
The children scattered like leaves in the wind, the seer still standing at a meagre height and barely taller than the warden's waist.
"Now, you... that nightmare must have been scary, huh?"
The warden's voice was deceptively calm and caring. The seer knew better than to trust that voice, and simply nodded.
"Good. Let's see if we can extract it and make sure everyone sees it," the warden said, reaching out and grabbing the seer by the shoulder, practically dragging them from the silent room.
...
Maria speed cleaned her way through the Mayor's office, trying not to cry. She was at work and she was a professional. It didn't matter what her son thought or said about her or her job, she got satisfaction out of doing her job well, and that was enough.
"Maria, are you all right?" Layla asked, hearing another sniffle and muffled sob coming from her boss' office.
Maria wasn't usually allowed to clean the Mayor's office because of privacy and security but mostly because the Mayor didn't want anyone to find his three bottles of Scotch. (Maria had already found four and she wasn't even trying.) The Mayor had spilled not only his coffee but a cup of yoghurt as well that morning, demanding it be cleaned before he returned the next morning. The coffee was mourned, the yoghurt was not. The Mayor didn't care about the health benefits, it smelled weird and tasted funny; he'd stick to bacon subs and coffee.
"Fine, almost done," Maria called back, almost wiping at her eyes with a chemical-sodden cloth and remembering at the last second.
Layla didn't believe that Maria was fine at all and stood to check on her. Maria was dabbing at her eyes with a handful of tissues, and looked guilty at being caught. "Maria, what's wrong? Did something happen? Is your son okay?"
Maria burst into tears then, burying her face in the tissues, and sinking to her knees next to the Mayor's desk.
Layla rushed over, putting an arm around the older woman's shoulders and holding her as she cried.
When Maria stopped sobbing, her body wracked by small shudders as she tried to control her emotions. Layla hurried to get a glass of water for her, watching and ensuring Maria drank it slowly between her hiccups. She finally settled down, her body cold and her face hot.
"He hates me. He hates he is not a super. He is ungrateful and rude, but I thought it was a teenager phase. Pah, he doesn't deserve college or my money or my roof and food! But... he's my son."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Maria. You're a wonderful lady and deserve better," Layla said firmly. "I have a friend. He works with mindfulness and things like that. I can get him to talk to your son, if you'd like?"
Maria shook her head. "I tried. Carlos refuses to see a therapist. Blames everything on me, pah!"
"My friend isn't a therapist. He doesn't even have to see him, just talk to him on the phone. Can you call Carlos now? I'll get my friend on the call. Here, use my phone," Layla offered.
Maria frowned. How would a friend who worked with mindfulness but wasn't a therapist help with her son?
"I don't have money to pay. I only have small cash; the rent is due this week and landlord says we pay twice or he calls immigration."
Layla frowned at that. "Are you here illegally?"
"No. Immigration don't care. They tie me up in months of paperwork and visiting hours are work hours. They hound until I lose my job and can't pay rent anyway. Landlord is cheaper, pah."
Layla clenched her jaw at the bullying and reminded herself to focus on one task first. She would get Donny to help with Carlos and then she would deal with that asshole landlord herself.
Getting her phone out, Layla saw she'd received a message from Honey.
Wait until 7:35.
It was seven thirty-three now, so Layla returned to the office with paper and pen to get the details for Maria's landlord. She could prepare for one task while waiting for another.
Maria finished writing her details for Layla, still wary and confused as to what the young girl would or could do, but hoping she could do something. Her son was as stubborn as her landlord.
"Here, call your son," Layla said with a smile, offering her phone to Maria.
Dialling her son's number, Maria waited for the call to connect. She nodded and passed the phone back to Layla, who added Donny to the call, watching as his number rang and hoping it would connect. She probably should have asked him first, oops.
"Hello? Who's there? If this is a prank call, I'll - "
"Good evening, Carlos. I am a friend of Maria's," Donny said. "Close your eyes and count backwards from ten."
"What? Why? How do you know my mother?"
Donny grit his teeth. Goddamn, he hated people sometimes. "Do. As. I. Say."
"Ten, nine, eight - "
Donny worked through the phone, tugging at certain memories and fading others, twisting and weaving feelings until Carlos finished counting.
"Thank you. You can open your eyes now."
"Okay. Why did you want me to do that?" Carlos asked, but was listening to the dial tone.
Layla frowned at her phone, ending the call when Donny's name disappeared from the call. "Carlos must have hung up. I can try again?"
Maria shook her head and forced herself to stand. "No. If he can't even try, then it is nothing you can change, pah. I will go home once this is clean," she added, indicating to the yoghurt stain on the carpet.
"Are you sure?" Layla asked.
Maria swallowed hard and nodded. "I will be fine. You are a good girl for trying, Layla. Thank you," she said, patting her cheek.
As promised, Maria finished cleaning the stain, adding a few extra touches to ensure the room didn't smell like old yoghurt. She walked up to her small house, body and mind weary, and frowned when she saw the outside light on for her.
Had she left it on that morning? Was someone breaking in? Had they hurt Carlos?
Forgetting her exhaustion, Maria hurried up the stairs and opened the door. She looked in the lounge room carefully, only to find it empty and no lights on. There was a soft glow coming from the kitchen, so she headed that way, trying to be quiet so she could catch the robbers in the act.
Her salt lamp was sitting on the bench, glowing gently, a note next to it.
Ma,
I bought chorizo pizza for dinner. I've put leftovers in the fridge for you.
Left the light on so you wouldn't trip on the pathway again.
I've gone to bed early. See you in the morning.
Carlos
Maria stared at the note. Most people wouldn't think it was a huge change, but for Maria, it felt as though her son had been replaced by a pod person.
He'd bought her dinner, left a light on, and was in bed before midnight?! Maybe Layla's friend had got through to him, after all.
...
End of the hundred and forty-third chapter.
