Especially when Gray walked over smirking and helped me step into zebra stilettos that matched my shirt. He gave me a wink as I shook my head at him and made an 'are you kidding?' face at him. I almost started to tell him how appalled my mother would be if she saw me, but that made my throat close up so I just swallowed hard and glared daggers in his direction.
Emma took off her ugly-ass gold jewelry and handed it to me, saying, "Thank goodness. Be warned. This stuff is heavy."
I bit my tongue while we remained in the hotel room, but as soon as we were in the elevator, going back downstairs as "Emma" and "Kordell" I flicked my wrist and hit Gray right in the nutsack.
His girlish screech was music to my ears.
"Seriously? You picked this?"
Even as he clutched his balls over his sagging jeans, Gray couldn't help his laugh. He lifted his phone and snapped a picture of me in my ridiculous getup. I leapt onto him and tried to wrench the phone away.
"No!"
"Yes, this baby needs to be seen."
I reached a hand out, desperate to stop him, but then the perils of tube tops made me halt. I was about to pop out. I had to choose between giving the hotel camera a free show or preventing the guys from seeing this disaster.
My eyes narrowed as I took a step back and yanked my top back into the safety zone. "I'll get you back, Kordell. Mark my words."
He completely ignored my threat, instead chuckling to himself as he texted my photo.
My eyes traveled down his figure. Gray was relaxed in his baggy jeans and loose polo as he leaned back against the barrier. He didn't look tired at all after our night. He looked more energized than I'd ever seen him. Almost giddy.
Apparently, the criminal life did good things for Mr. Mars. The shirt he wore that showcased his pecs did good things for him, too.
The elevator dinged before I could decide between running my hands over his biceps and giving him a wedgie.
Then we left “Gray” and “Hayley” upstairs to bang loudly—to the disgust of all the hotel neighbors—while “Emma” and “Kordell” walked out the front door.
8
Z arrived at the van at the same time we did and asked, “Dunno about you, but is anyone else getting Scooby vibes from this thing?” He pointed at the van, which wasn’t white any longer, but had a dark green paint job with some florist name and flower logos on the side.
Z leaned against it and pointed at the flower, his army green jean jacket restricting his movement so that his elbow couldn’t quite bend. Or so I thought for a moment, before it happened again.
“Are you drunk?” Gray shook his head disapprovingly.
“Shut up and get inside,” Evan slid the door open even as he scolded, James Brown’s “I’ll Go Crazy” playing on the radio.
Z pointed at the radio. “See? Total seventies vibes. And Evan can be Scooby, the chubby version.”
Evan glared at Z.
Z narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be so damn judgy, Evan. What’d you do after Matthew’s accident? Vacation? Date? Or did you go get fucked up just like me?”
Evan’s blue eyes immediately softened in understanding.
I reached out a hand to help Z, but he pulled away. “No. Don’t be nice. Be mean. I deserve it. I’m the one who recruited him.” His voice choked up. “It’s my fault he hit the spell in that fog.” He gestured to Andros, who lay still and unmoving on the floor of the van.
“How am I gonna tell grandma? It’s all my fault.” Z choked on a sob and then rubbed at his eyes. “Shit.”
“Hey, man, we’ll unravel it,” Evan tossed a hand up on Z’s back. “We’ve got this.”
Evan’s look to me wasn’t nearly as sure as his tone addressing Z. But that didn’t matter. Both Evan and I knew the pain of seeing someone we loved hurt by magic in a way that might be irreversible. I stepped closer and slid my arms around Z’s waist. “Hey, hey now. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine. If your grandma is going to be mad at anyone, it’s going to be me. Okay?” I shushed him and held him tight. His arms pulled me in close, his tattooed arms wrapping around my back, and I waited until I heard him take a deep calming breath.
Then I pulled back and teased, “No more talking, drunky. Get in and shut up while we fix your cousin.”
Z nodded, putting on a small smile.
We all clambered in and immediately, I took off the god-awful zebra heels. I glanced around the van, noting that Malcolm and Maurice—our driver—were both missing. By the back door, a full, tied-off trash bag sat like a boulder. “What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s the van’s old skin—the white one. He peeled it off and is gonna dump it after we get to our final destination.” Gray’s answer was crisp and factual.
I nodded, disinterested as soon as the bag had been explained. Instead, I peered down at Andros, who was just as frozen and blue as last time. An open notebook lay on the floorboards next to his head.
“Gimme a progress update,” I said, scooting closer so that I could see what Evan had written.
We crouched over Andros, who still lay prone in the van. The music switched from Brown to Black Sabbath’s “Electric Funeral.”
“Who the hell is in charge of the music?” Z moaned. “This ruins our mojo. It’s all dark and shit.” Though his tone was silly, he could hardly stand to look at Andros and I wondered if he was just trying to distract himself.
Z pursed his lips and slid back against the wall, turning away as if he couldn’t quite stand to see Andros like this. He curled his legs up so that the rest of us could get closer to Evan’s notebook in the crowded rear of the van.
Evan ran a hand over Andros' stone arm and chewed his lip thoughtfully. He pointed at one of the phrases he’d written in the notebook. "I dunno," he hedged. "I’ve been trying to diagnose it without doing another spell. Didn’t want to call attention to the van.”
Just then Malcolm arrived, his cheeks flushed when he yanked open the sliding door. “I won,” he grinned, climbing in, his slicked blond hair looking perfect and dapper—as if he’d done nothing but play damned board games all night.
“Now we’re just waiting on Maurice,” Gray announced, drumming his fingers against the side of the vehicle as he peered out the open side door, which Malcolm hadn’t bothered to close.
“He went to a dumpster to go drop some of that car skin—took up too much room. He wanted to do some here, some at another spot,” Evan clarified.
Gray hopped out of the door Malcolm had left gaping. He glanced down an alley. “Couple dumpsters down there. I’m gonna see if he needs help so we can get out of here.” He walked off into the dim alley, footsteps echoing dully.
I chewed my lip and said in a low voice that I hoped wouldn’t carry to Z. "My worry is that the longer we leave the spell on, the harder it will be to reverse. I mean, what if he's solid all the way through? What if this isn't just a surface thing?"
Evan nodded. “Yeah, there could be some kind of issue there. But I’m also concerned about the spell in general. Something tells me that even if I see the original spell, it's not going to be a straightforward unravel. I feel like there's gonna be a catch."