Page 48 of Amber Gambler

Not five minutes later, Hurricane Josie blew in the door dressed in a crop top and boy shorts with a sleep mask strapped to her forehead and her eyes at half-mast. “You are not marrying that man.”

Heat flared in my cheeks. “No one said anything about?—”

“Your honor—” she wiped crusted drool off her chin with her wrist, “—I object.”

“You took Ambien again, didn’t you?” Matty tugged on his hair. “You can’t pop those like candy.”

“Where is the engagement ring?” Josie stumbled closer. “Where is the bling?”

“We’re not getting married.” I made room for her crash-landing next to me. “Kierce made me an offer.”

Her mumbles faded into nothing, and I flipped her over to find her unconscious.

“Who gave her Ambien?” I checked her pulse. “She can’t be trusted with chewable vitamins, let alone an addictive controlled substance.” Her vitals were strong, so I slid off the mattress, gripped her ankles, and twisted her sideways until she was upside down on the bed. “How much did she take?”

“I don’t know.” Matty backed toward the door. “I’ll run upstairs and find the bottle.”

“She’s having trouble sleeping too.” Kierce stood behind me. “Is Ankou…?”

“No.” I smoothed the hair off her face. “It’s grief, I think. And guilt. She blames herself for inviting Armie into our lives.” I waved him over to the couch. “For what he did to Lyle—and Harrow. For all of it.” We sat side by side. “But it wasn’t her fault, was it? He wanted me.”

Ankou—Armie—I flip-flopped between how I thought of them—had wanted tokillme.

“Ankou is trickster. An agent of chaos. A troublemaker who thrives on misery.”

“That sounds like avoidance.” I drew my legs up to my chin. “Do you know why he targeted me?”

“He’s been known to spend decades cultivating personas to create mischief among humans. He sires the occasional child as well, to aid him in his dynastic pursuits. He delights in misery, and his god feeds on it. Their relationship is symbiotic. Their schemes are their own. I understand Ankou dedicated a year to you and your family, but it’s important to grasp you don’t measure time the same way we do.”

“He viewed us as a DIY project for a long weekend while we saw him as building the foundation for a life here. Maybe even with Josie. As a member of our family.”

“There is every reason to believe he heard rumors of a necromancer with unusual talents and decided to investigate. He might have hoped to out you or turn the community against you. He would have fed well on the heartache of you and your siblings losing all you’ve worked for. His choice of establishment was a clever strategy to ensure he met the locals, befriended them, and developed ties within your community under his latest guise.” He paused. “He likely chose a shifter identity to earn him more influence.”

The focus on bringing in shifter clientele, the game he played in never revealing his animal. He had done a fine jobof ingratiating himself with the packs and prides in the area without going so far as to pitch his lot in with any of them.

“All he had to do was turn me in to the Society.” I let my head fall back. “So why didn’t he?”

“You would have taken any punishment without complaint.” He mirrored my pose. “The point was, most likely, to ensure your siblings’ suffering. That would have created a circuit. Their pain at losing you would have fueled him, and your misery would have been even sweeter knowing how you worried for them but couldn’t reach them.”

The door flew open, and Matty skidded in with a pill bottle and a scowl. “Aretha wrote the prescription.”

“She must be a nurse practitioner in addition to her med-witch gig.” I glanced over my shoulder to check on Josie. “Josie must have reached out after…”

“…one of your recent near-death experiences.” Matty tossed me the bottle after tapping the date the prescription was filled. “We have to talk to Josie.”

“Let her sleep.” I thunked it down on my coffee table. “We’ll have a come to Jesus with her later.”

As unhealthy as my coping mechanisms might be, hers weren’t winning any blue ribbons either. We both had to do better. Or we would end up running Matty into the ground when he had less energy than any of us to spare, in the dream realm or otherwise.

“We’re going to open late.” Matty checked his wrist. “There are no appointments until noon, but there’s a few overnights the Suarezes are doing what they can for while we wait on parts to arrive.”

“I would offer to do this for you,” Kierce said, “but I haven’t learned to drive motor vehicles.”

The idea of not being chained to a schedule of tasks only I could fulfill was too big for my head to hold. It was my job topick up and drop off the Suarezes. That was the deal. I hadn’t minded, since Matty was as bound to the routine as me. That kept me from feeling singled out or lonely. But it hadn’t made it any less exhausting.

A fact I hadn’t realized until the exact second someone offered to help shoulder the burden.

“Thanks.” I heard my own wonder. “Maybe I’ll teach you how to drive sometime.”

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