I sat on the ledge of the fountain and looked back at the mess—work we'd done. The fountain, path and steps up were cracked and crumbing, but scraping wouldn't fix that damage. "When do you think we'll be able to paint?" Along with my cooking skills, my construction and repair skills also lacked. But Knox and the others knew enough to make up for my deficit.
"Coming days. We'll need to check the weather." He wiped sweat and dust from his brow.
The weather changed quickly at the coast, going from bright blue skies to dark clouds without warning. Today, the sky was partly cloudy. When the sun lurked behind white pillowy clouds, it wasn't so bad. But when the clouds passed, the rays beat down on my neck and shoulders.
A rustling bush was my only warning before Faust stepped out of the forest with Dog beside him. "Another note," he growled to Knox. "Tall tower. A bat swooped over my head and dropped it in my damn hands."
I hadn't the foggiest what that meant, but Knox's eyebrows knitted together.
Faust hissed sharply, the sound coming from closer than I'd expected. "His neck is burnt," he said accusingly to Knox. "You need sunscreen."
He ran inside with Dog at his heels while Knox neared to inspect my neck with a low, unhappy hum.
"I don't get it," I whispered as he traced the edges of my red skin. It probably was burnt—my skin fried just from looking at the sun—but no one in the history of my life had ever cared about such a thing. "You guys are scary. Or you can be. When you were chasing me, at first, I didn't think you were real. You were focused, determined, and smart. I imagined you were monsters. One hundred percent. But you guys are also so…" I couldn't find a word that didn't sound demeaning. "How can you be mercenaries and caretakers?"
Knox pulled me in his lap, I assumed partly to block my neck from the sun, but mostly because if he wasn't working, he preferred to be touching me. "It was Pierce's idea," he said softly. I twisted my neck to look at him, needing to watch his face in case this was too much. He wouldn't admit to as much on his own. While the sorrow was thick, it was no more than usual.
"Pierce was a few years older than me and Faust. Had grown up close with Alpha Carrier and the Elders—the Elders are appointed by the Alpha to act as financiers, or investors, for a pack. The money they provide helps the pack operate with limited outside contact," he explained after seeing my confusion. "Though, at that time, there were only two Elders remaining. We lived in relative peace. Our isolation kept most packs out of our territory, and if anyone did try to attack, we were ready to defend our land. Alpha Carrier lived a long, peaceful life, as did the Elders, and when they died, we were left with a pack terrified of change and six alphas to fight for Alpha Carrier's position. Faust, Diesel, and I were barely old enough to lead, the twins were even younger, and none of us knew how to be an Alpha. Pierce was the obvious choice, but he didn't have Elders. Knowing the pack needed to be supported in some way, we came together and decided to share Alpha leader status. We took on jobs, the more lucrative the better, and quickly realized the process could work. It likely helped that the six of us spent a limited amount of time actually on pack lands. And when we did, there wasn't tension. Being born an alpha gives a shifter more strength and capacity for skill, but being a chosen leader, an Alpha, wasn't about strength or power. It was recognizing a responsibility to provide and protect your people." He made a sharp, choking, growling sound, and I assumed he was imagining what had happened to that pack he'd cared so much for.
My heart broke for him. For all of them.
"Here we go," Faust announced, returning with a bandanna and sunscreen.
Knox stood, lifting me with him. The moment my feet hit the ground, my stomach turned, and my head felt light. I worried I'd stood up too quickly and reached back to grab Knox's arm when my stomach rolled. The next thing I knew, my mouth opened, and I projectile-vomited all over Knox's chest.
Once spent, I hunched over, grabbing my knees. Knox's rushed questions sounded muffled as my head pounded.
"Jazz?" Worry made my name a rumble.
I sucked in a deep breath. My mouth didn't taste like it should've after throwing up, but my body felt worn out and achy. I wiped my face, stood up, and peeked at the mess I'd made.
My mouth fell open, but this time in shock. The liquid that covered Knox's chest and stomach looked nothing like vomit. It wasn't murky or lumpy. My puke was…beautiful. Like oil in water, the ribbons of color didn't mix or blend together. Streams of red, orange, yellow, green—the entire rainbow—dripped slowly down Knox's front.
"I threw up a rainbow. How come I threw up a rainbow?" I sounded dazed even to my ears.
Knox pulled his shirt up over his head, using the backside to clean his face. He lightly circled his arm around me, checking my forehead with the back of his hand. "You aren't hot."
"Is there glitter in it?" Faust sat on his haunches, staring at the vomit on the stone, while Dog sat next to him, staring at the puke with clear disdain. "It smells like…bubblegum."
Huntley, Jagger, and Diesel bounded out the front door, coming to an abrupt stop at the strange sight.
"We felt—what is that?" Huntley asked over Jagger's shoulder after slamming into his backside.
"What did he eat?" Diesel asked from the entryway, his lip turned up. His dark hair looked less maintained than the last time, a fact I would've worried about if I hadn't just made my life into a Skittles commercial.
Knox's face loomed over mine. I could see only him as he searched my face, touching my cheeks and forehead. If his frown got any deeper, his eyebrows would touch his chin.
"It's probably nothing," I said quietly. My throat felt tight. After today, Knox wouldn't ever let me help again. "It is nothing," I said with more confidence. "Maybe I ate a bath bomb in my sleep." There weren't any bath bombs in the hotel, but I would've said anything to stop the concerned looks.
"Don't move too quickly, Jazz Hands," Huntley warned as I pushed gently away from Knox in an attempt to prove I didn't need his help to stand.
The moment I stood straight, my stomach heaved, and I unleashed an ungodly amount of rainbow, glittery, bubblegum-scented vomit over the shoes of anyone who was unfortunate enough to be standing too close.
The next thing I knew, Knox had me in his arms, unconcerned with the muck I'd gotten and was getting all over him. The others flanked him, bringing me inside as a unit.
Knox set me down on the sofa in the sitting room, sliding to kneel on the floor next to me. Faust handed him a cool rag that he folded and set on my forehead. "Breathe in and out. Deeply. If you feel it again, we have a bucket."
"I'm okay," I said, realizing as I spoke that I truly felt fine. "It's passed, I think. Whatever it was."
No one looked convinced. In fact, the men stood scattered around me, staring at one another in one of their silent conversations. If it had to do with me, the least they could do was speak out loud.
I reached for Knox's sleeve, intending on tugging it to get his attention, but he dropped down, caressing my cheek gently. His expression was shuttered. "I'm calling the Walkers."