The Bridge (19 page)

“So are we going out after this lesson or tomorrow? We never chose the date last night,” Bryce said.

“I’d like to go tonight, but I’m sweaty.”

“You can shower at my house. I also have clothes you can borrow. They might be a little big since you’re so skinny, but I have this thing for guys wearing baggy clothes.” Bryce laughed, and his aura made petals instead of spikes.

Everett thought back to how he had been dressed in ill-fitting clothes when he watched Bryce assist at the dojang. Had he gotten Bryce’s attention even then?

“Why?” Everett smiled at the color in Bryce’s cheeks.

“Because it’s easy to take off baggy clothes?” Bryce’s aura had the uniformity of smoke.

Everett’s cheeks burned.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not in a bad way.”

“Let me know if I make you uncomfortable. I’ll stop.” Bryce smiled. “Do you want to go out tonight or tomorrow?”

“Tonight. Will your family be home?”

Bryce cocked his head and a devilish look came over his face. “I can get them out.”

BRYCE LIVED
in a gated community of maintained gardens, million-dollar properties, luxury cars, and 24-7 local security.

Everett almost ran his car over a sidewalk while ogling a property that had a lawn so green it looked artificial, and so large it could host a full-size soccer game.

Bryce’s house was far from the gates and had its own court. It was two stories high, the width of three average houses, and had a five-car garage. The driveway was lined with solar-paneled lights that were brighter than the solar lights Everett saw in other neighborhoods. The front lawn was a curved rectangle of deep green with a rainbow of flowers dotting its border. At the other side of the lawn was a wooden patio with a white conversation set. A white awning with solar-powered bulbs lit the patio in dull white.

Bryce and Everett parked their cars in the driveway.

Everett downed the rest of the endurance brew he had made before he left the shop. It tasted like dirt. He thinned the aftertaste with water and then joined Bryce at the front doors.

The doors couldn’t have been larger than the standard double-door entrances to houses, but when Everett walked through them, they seemed much larger.

The front doors led into a lobby. There were two sofas on either side of the room. Straight ahead was a hallway twice as wide as the one in Everett’s previous home. It could fit three people side by side with generous space between each body.

The bottom half of the walls had vertical rows of thick wood paneling. There was a large rug that exposed a strip of the wooden floor along the perimeter of the lobby. A rectangular strip of the runner branched off and stretched down the hall.

On the walls above the sofas were paintings of a vibrant garden. The artist had the last name Pendley. The first name was difficult to read, but it started with a J.

“Your house is amazing,” Everett said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Never had he seen such wealth up close. Before visiting Bryce’s house, the closest he had gotten to the rich was when he walked by luxury cars in downtown Ashville.

“You’ve only seen one room. Wait till you see my bedroom. It’s decked out with the coolest things you will ever see, including a TV that flips out of the wall and a surround sound system. I have a subwoofer in my
wall
.”

The hall stretched all the way down the house. Each entry to another room had an arch or a door set in an alcove. The dining room had glass double doors that were so clear Everett mistook them for empty doorframes. There was a separate kitchen, a social room, a living room—what was the difference between the two?—a guest room, laundry room, and an entertainment room. Upstairs were the bedrooms and offices. His father’s office was off-limits, but the other office belonged to him and Melinda.

Bryce’s bedroom was at the far end of house. It was three times the size of Everett’s old bedroom. It had an alcove for a bookshelf, armchair, and lamp. The bed was queen sized with multiple pillows and, as Bryce had said, a subwoofer was built into the wall above it. The bed faced a flat-screen TV that was flat against the ceiling. Bryce pushed a button next to the light switch and the TV flipped out to face the bed.

Everett took in the rest of the room’s furnishings, such as the martial arts weapons stored on a specialized shelf, the balcony that had a patio set, and the case of martial arts trophies and medals.

Bryce disappeared into his walk-in closet. “I have some clothes you can borrow—or keep. You can take them home if you like.” He brought out a large basketball T-shirt and baggy sweatpants. “I have underwear too, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Boxers?” Everett kept his mind off the idea of wearing something that had gotten up close and personal with Bryce’s privates.

“Sure. The bathroom’s the first door on the right.”

Bryce’s bathroom had two sinks that were two large white bowls that stuck out of the counter. The mirror was lined with tiny bulbs that were bright enough to light the room without burning Everett’s eyes. The shower had two nozzles and a slab for sitting.

The water heated quickly, and Everett made quick use of the shower, though he would have loved to stay inside for much longer.

The boxers were a perfect fit, but the pants and the shirt were massive. The collar was stretched so much that it fell off one of his shoulders. Everett felt like a boyfriend who desperately wanted to be sexy but was failing with an extreme level of secondhand embarrassment.

“I’m utterly jealous of your house,” Everett said.

“Everyone is.” Bryce ruffled Everett’s hair as they traded rooms.

Everett was hypersensitive of the fact that Bryce didn’t lock the bathroom door or even close it all the way. He lay belly down on Bryce’s bed and watched the cartoon program playing on the TV.

The shower turned on, and he rolled off the bed, landing on his toes. He snuck down the hall to Mr. Pendley’s office. He tried the door handle, expecting resistance. It was unlocked.

He paused. Nothing changed in the rhythm of the shower water. He slunk into the office and felt along the wall for a switch. He found a panel with a flip switch and a dimmer. He turned the lights to their brightest setting.

The office was minimally furnished, but the wall opposite the door made up for the lack of décor. It had three massive bookshelves. Each shelf was packed with books, most of which were hardbound and seemed to be decades old.

Everett stepped around the cherry desk and touched the spine of a dusty book. He envisioned the witchtales volume Bryce flipped through.

Lead me to the witchtales.

Magnetized, he let his hand lead him to the other end of the bookshelf. He spotted the book before the spell ended.

He didn’t know what he was looking for. He opened to a page where the book spine was broken. The book was breaking in half because of cruel handling, but there was also a slip of notepaper with several page numbers. “Hybrid Child” was written at the top of the paper.

He replaced the book and left the office. The shower was still on. Everett probably had a minute or so left of snooping, but he already knew what he needed. He had gotten lucky—or he had fallen into a trap.

“I love a hot shower after a long workout,” Bryce said. Everett sat on the bed as Bryce entered the room, toweling his hair in a wild way that was bound to give him frizz. “There’s water in my fridge if you want. You look pale again, like you’re going to faint.”

There was a minifreezer under Bryce’s desk that Everett had mistaken for a safe.

“No thank you.”

“If you feel like fainting, get on the ground—or my bed. Whatever is closest.” Bryce hung his towel on his desk chair and crawled on the bed next to Everett, elbows folded under his chin.

Bryce’s sleepwear was a large shirt and tiny shorts.

His eyes wanted to analyze Bryce’s sculpted thighs. They were unbelievably hairless.

“You shave?”

“Checking my legs out, Hallman?”

Everett grasped his mistake too late. Bryce bent his legs in the air and crossed his ankles. His gaze dared Everett to study his legs.

“Your eyebrows led me to think you would be hairy.”

Bryce rubbed against the grain of his eyebrows. He slowly smirked. “Does that only apply to my legs?”

Everett laughed. “You’re disgusting.”

“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t be ogling my legs.” Bryce flexed his legs.

“I appreciate their sculpture,” Everett said.

“Wanna touch?” Bryce waggled an eyebrow and slid a hand up his smooth thigh. “They’re silky smooth. I just waxed them this morning.”

Everett snapped his attention to the TV, biting down on his smile. “No thank you.”

Aside from whatever powers Bryce had in his paranormal form, Bryce’s other powers included making Everett speak without thinking and making Everett feel like an actual teenager.

“Why did you wax?” Everett forced himself to stare at the wrinkles in the comforter next to Bryce’s elbow.

“I love smooth legs. I used to shave, but I accidently cut myself with the razor, and it burned like hell.”

“I don’t mind body hair.” It was the thick hair on Bryce’s head that he loved.

“I’d assume you’re hairless, but I can’t tell when you’re always wearing pants and sweaters. Your arms are pretty bare, though.” Bryce skimmed Everett’s arm with the tips of his fingers, electricity tracing where his touch had been. Everett could feel every skinny hair on his body stir.

How had Everett’s luck brought Bryce, a paranormal being, into his life? Life had been complicated before he learned Bryce wasn’t entirely human. Now it was complicated to the
n
th degree.

The dojang and Omar’s disappearance added two different dimensions that Everett hoped were connected. They had to be. It would be too much of a coincidence if they weren’t related in some way. Everett didn’t know how long he had, but he would either solve it first or suffer the consequences of the dimensions clashing.

He could start the largest bulk of his investigation now, in Bryce’s house, and he already had a major piece of the clues: Mr. Pendley had bookmarked witchtales of hybrid children.

“Two witches don’t automatically produce a witch child. It’s rare, but sometimes the child is developed to be something else—human or monster.”

A commercial came on, and Everett asked Bryce to turn the volume down.

“Can I ask about your mother?” Everett asked.

Bryce dropped the volume to zero and continued to hold down the volume button until Everett touched his shoulder. His numbness melted into sorrow.

“You don’t have to,” Everett said.

“No, it’s fine. You just sort of blindsided me. What do you want to know?” Bryce turned the TV off and the silence buzzed. Oddly, it brought up memories of Buzz and his purring.

“I just want to know you better.” Everett shrugged one shoulder. “If you don’t want to talk, it’s all right. I can tell you about my parents afterward if you want.”

Bryce looked at Everett as if he saw beauty so rare it stole his breath. “You really are freaking amazing.”

Everett’s body jolted as if he had been shocked. Bryce was holding his hand. He pumped Everett’s hand. Their flesh brushed in that single movement, human flesh against something rough with deep creases.

“Are you okay? You look like you had a moment,” Bryce said.

“I did.” Everett shifted his hand in Bryce’s. The abnormal flesh was gone. “Can you tell me about how she went?”

Midblink, Bryce’s expression shifted into deep confusion. “Uh, sure. That’s a strange thing to ask.” Bryce squeezed Everett’s hand and didn’t let go. “I was ten when she was killed by this woman who had a thing against my dad’s novels. She tried to kill my family, but she only killed my mom before dad got her.” His grip on Everett’s hand got stronger. “I wasn’t there because I was sleeping over at a friend’s house. My dad picked me up the next morning. We moved houses after that.” Bryce shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I’m okay with it now.”

“Your mother must have been a wonderful person.”

“She was. I got my nose from her.” Bryce laughed in the way people did when they wanted to cry and needed a diversion.

“Was she a martial artist like you?”

“Yeah, but she was self-taught. She was the most athletic in the family, and that’s why I took tae kwon do. I wanted to follow her footsteps. She used to do parkour in the park, even after she gave birth to me. She freaked out over her weight and parkoured until her abs came back.”

“She sounds like a badass.”

“That sounds weird coming from you.”

Everett playfully bumped their shoulders. “What was her name?”

“Jayda.”

“Jayda Pendley. What was her maiden name?”

Bryce shook his head. “I never learned it. My dad won’t tell me either. He says it’s too painful for him. It has been ten years, so I think he’s lying. She probably was born to a family of crime. Look at the house we live in. Do you think a novelist can make enough to afford this?”

“It’s not impossible.” Everett doubted Mr. Pendley only lived off royalties.

“Everett.” Bryce’s broken voice hooked Everett’s attention. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know you, and that includes your past.”

“But
why
?”

Everett kissed Bryce’s soft and warm cheek. “I like you.”

“You’re so smooth.” Bryce let go of Everett’s hand and flipped the TV screen back against the ceiling. He fluffed two pillows and put them side by side in front of the headboard. He flopped on his side and patted the space in front of him. “It’s my turn to be smooth. Come cuddle with me. I’m the big spoon and you’re the small spoon.”

“That’s more demanding than smooth.” Everett took the space in front of Bryce and almost lost his breath at how perfectly he fit against Bryce’s body.

“Usually people find it hot when I order them around.” Bryce hugged Everett’s waist with an arm and pulled him closer. Bryce’s warm breath caressed Everett’s neck.

Everett expected a kiss to fall on his skin and wet warmth to caress his spine, but Bryce was only positioning himself for a comfortable snooze.