Page 6 of Slaying With Sylphs (Haven Ever After #6)

CHAPTER SIX

LOU

T he scream I release gets lost in the vicious swirl of wind that whips around us. My braid gets sucked into the vortex of air, slapping me in the face until it suddenly doesn’t, and the wild sound stops.

I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed until I blink them tentatively open to find the treetops far below us. A scream attempts to burst from me as I grasp for Dirk, only to find I can’t move anything. And when I look down, there’s nothing but what I can see far below me.

I have no arms, no legs. There’s nothing but wind and the trees below.

And even those are getting farther away by the moment. Struggling to wrap my brain around what’s happening, I think about Dirk. Can we talk like this? Are we technically still touching?

The treetops disappear as we move up through the clouds. Terror and panic grip me until I realize I can’t actually feel my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Confusion swirls as I catalog my feelings, only to find that I feel…lighter.

A faint squeezing sensation at my back sends reassurance through me. It’s Dirk; it must be. But he says nothing, of course, and when I try to glance over my nonexistent shoulder to say something to him, I can’t.

This is the strangest experience, being noncorporeal. Is this what he feels like every time he flies?

As I think that, there’s the phantom sensation of someone grasping my wrist and stretching out my arm. We drift upward, and though I have no visible fingers, the clouds’ chilly moisture gathers on my fingertips.

It’s weird to smile and know my smile doesn’t exist. I’m invisible to everyone. There’s something kinda freeing about that, if I’m honest.

We shoot up through the clouds, moving faster and faster until we come to the faint green bubbly ward that insulates Ever. But somehow, my worry fades.

Then we smash into the ward, and I think about screaming, but there’s no way I can. We spin and twirl in the air, zipping alongside the ward ceiling, which is when I realize I can see a current of wind traveling fast along the ward. And when I focus more fully on what’s in front of us, there’s a maelstrom of currents in hundreds of different blues.

Aqua. Sky blue. Navy. Royal.

The shades are stunning, twisting and spiraling around and through and over each other. We’re in the middle of a current the color of cotton candy. It goes as far as I can see, skirting the ward bubble.

It occurs to me that my niece Thea’s gargoyle mate, Shepherd, has mentioned catching the currents when he flies. Is this how he sees them?

Gods, this is exhilarating.

So, I let it go, everything I’ve been carrying in my heart and mind. I stare in awe as Dirk guides us, somehow, along the cotton candy current, barreling beneath the ward. Then he hops us to a current the color of a midnight sky. It spins us in circles until I’m dizzy and breathless, and then we sprint to a current the palest shade of cerulean.

I lose myself to the air, sensing Dirk at my back even though I can’t feel him. His presence is a warm mental hug. But then we dive through the pale current and pick up a current so dark, it’s nearly black. It zips us down, down, down out of the clouds until we’re flying through the forest near Ever’s singular gas station.

Except we blow past that, through the woods until the current darts past Hel Motel. Something behind me shifts, and we hop out of the wind. It’s like a rollercoaster ride but backward. One minute we were flying downhill, but now we’re just spinning around lazily in the air like two dust motes.

I don’t wanna be done flying, though. That was the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.

But Dirk spirals us up through chilly air, past black wood siding and black paned windows. I try to get a look inside the infamous wraith motel, but all I see is a faint blue figure before we pass the window and head toward the black tiled roof. We alight on it, and then the wind whips my phantom hair into a frenzy again.

When it dies down, warm lips brush the shell of my right ear, tickling me. “How’d you like my version of flying, Louanna?”

I look up over my reappeared shoulder at him. His lips brush my cheek, and he doesn’t move. It should be awkward, but I’m lost in the navy depths of his eyes. This close, they’re not just navy. Sprinkles of pale gray and pitch-black ring the outer edge of his iris. When I don’t immediately answer, he smirks.

“You look ready for a kiss, Louanna.” He presses his lips to the tip of my nose.

My body tightens and tenses, ready for something. We’ve danced around attraction, and I lied to myself for a while. I said it was a bad time, and the triplets needed my attention and support. But all three of them are mated and happy. They’re fucking thriving, my badass bitches.

There’s no reason I couldn’t kiss Dirk right now.

“I brought you to this place for a reason.” He leans back just enough for me to see him better and jerks his head toward the forest. “Wanna know who runs a path around Hel Motel twice a day?”

Confusion fills me, and I scrunch my brows together.

“Connall Blackwater, that’s who,” he says. “It’s part of his rounds. And I’ve noticed when he does the rounds alone, he stops in that grove down there, the one yeh can see at the edge of your vision.” He points over the trees to a spot where grass is visible. “He does naughty things out there, on occasion.”

Something inside me flutters until a blush heats my cheeks.

Dirk laughs. “I love how I can read every emotion on that beautiful pale skin, Louanna. Shall we wait for him to pass and then do a little spying?”

I spin around and slap his chest, ignoring how all the lightning on one arm streaks toward my violence. “You can’t go around spying on the entire town, Dirk. Why would you do that to him?”

He rolls his eyes as if I just did something intensely sexual. “Yer givin’ me sexy schoolteacher vibes. I can just imagine yeh sayin’, ‘to me office, Mister Zefferus. I’ll deal with yeh after class.’”

I level him with the rudest expression I can summon. “It’s a violation of his privacy , Mister Zefferus.”

“Oh fook,” he groans, grabbing at his crotch. “I just came in me pants a little, Louanna. Say it again. Anyhow,” he grins, “are yeh jealous?”

I narrow my eyes and shake my head, despite the fact that he’s partially right. We’ve never talked about how he floats outside my window at night and stares. Well, I’m pretty sure he does. It’s always windier outside my window than anywhere else, and somehow, I sense it’s probably him. Honestly, if anybody else did it, I’d find it creepy. But, with Dirk, it makes sense to me. It feels safe even though he’s a stalker. Is there such a thing as cozy stalking? Because that’s what he does.

The idea of him floating outside Connall’s window doing the same thing makes me want to flip tables. Or join him. Gods, I’m not sure.

“What do you think about what I shared?” Dirk questions me softly.

What do I think? I think I knew but hadn’t absorbed how serious he was. And now? I’m not sure what to do next. I’m saved from answering by faint footsteps that reach us from down below. Dirk lifts a finger to his mouth, indicating I should be silent. I shake my head, but he grabs me and pulls me carefully to the edge of the roof. Gods, this is bad.

We’re spying on a nice guy. A really nice guy I sometimes think about when I’m alone in my room. Does Dirk stick around long enough to be aware of that?

Steady breathing drifts up, and despite what I told myself, I creep to the edge of the roof and lie flat next to Dirk. He glances at me with a saucy grin, then points toward the forest.

Every bit of breath in my body leaves on a whoosh as a shirtless Connall comes jogging up a path through the forest. His tee is tucked into one of his belt loops, his jeans doing nothing to hide enormous, muscular thighs. He must have a solid fifty or sixty pounds on Dirk. He’s thickly built and covered chest to belt with wolfish tattoos.

They still don’t hide the dips and valleys of every ab, or the puffy, thick pecs coated in auburn hair. His eyes, luminescent green, cut left and right as he scans for anything amiss.

Guilt hits me like a Mack truck. He was Leighton’s friend. I killed Leighton. And now I’m Peeping Tom’ing like a real bitch.

But then he pauses and reaches down the front of his pants, adjusting a large bulge.

“He runs and gets hard,” Dirk whispers. “And then he goes to that glade and fucks his hands, Louanna. Shall we watch?”

This has gone too far. It’s too much. I force my gaze from Connall as he disappears up the path toward the glade.

“We should go. This isn’t right. And the fact that you spy on him like you do me? So rude. No points in the ‘should I go out with Dirk’ category. You’re in the red, Mister Zefferus.”

But instead of even acting remotely concerned by my statement, his grin broadens. He rests his head against three fingers, beaming at me like the cat that got the cream. “Wanna know a secret, Louanna?”

Fuck. Do I? How many does he have? Because everything about Dirk screams secrets and layers. He’s the embodiment of the ogre onion explanation from Shrek .

I scowl back at him. “Does it explain why you think it’s okay to be a Peeping Tom?”

He shrugs as best he can with his head in one hand. “Don’t know what the fook that is, Louanna. Must be a human thing. But I’m gonna let yeh in on my secret, my sweet. I spy on you because you’re mine.” His grin grows absolutely feral. “And I spy on him—because he’s ours .”