Uprising (Alternate Earth Series, Book 2) (7 page)

“And far more chic,” JoJo states as fact, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other in the air, palm up.

“Absolutely,” I agree, finding it hard not to smile at JoJo’s infectious vitality.

I tell my friends I’ll spend more time with them after I take my shower.

Mason promptly phases us to our room and helps me undress.

“Does this mean you’ll be joining me in the shower?” I ask hopefully. If there is one thing I enjoy doing with Mason, it’s showering. Nine times out of ten, it always leads to more than just getting clean.

“I would love to,” Mason says, with a pleased grin spreading his lips at my suggestion, “but I don’t think I would be able to give you the attention you deserve right now. I’m too worried about Brand and what disfiguring Dillon will do to him. Would you be ok with me going down to speak with him in private while you’re getting cleaned up?”

“Of course,” I say, empathizing with my husband’s need to give Brand his counsel. “I’ll just take my shower and go back up to the attic to see if I can help them out. Take your time discussing things with him.”

“I love you,” Mason says, bringing me into his arms.

“You’ll probably love me even more after I smell a little better,” I jest.

“I love you no matter what aroma you’re wearing.”

I have to laugh, because I know he’s delicately trying to tell me that I do, in fact, have an unpleasant odor surrounding me.

“Go talk to Brand,” I tell him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, because I’m also acutely aware that I need to brush my teeth. “I promise to smell like roses the next time you see me.”

As I walk away, Mason reaches out and slaps me playfully on my naked bottom.

“What was that for?” I ask, looking at him over my shoulder.

Mason shrugs, with a roguish grin on his face. “They’re just so round. They were practically begging to be spanked.”

I turn around to face my husband with my arms folded in front of me.

“And the next time a certain part of your anatomy is begging for some attention, do I have permission to slap it, too?” I ask.

Mason’s grin grows broader. “Only if you promise to kiss it and make it better afterwards.”

I raise an eyebrow at my husband. “I don’t see you kissing me and making it better.”

Mason takes a purposeful step towards me, but I hold up my hands to stop him.

“Later,” I tell him, unable to prevent a small laugh. “Let me bathe first. Then you can make it up to me.”

Mason bows to me. “I am here to serve your needs, whatever they might be.”

“I’ll remember that,” I say, turning back around to walk into the bathroom. “And you might regret saying it!”

I hear Mason chuckle behind me and say, “Never.”

I take a very, very long and hot shower. I have to scrub my skin and wash my hair three times just to feel clean again. Once I’m dressed, I go back up to the attic to spend some quality time with my friends. Zack makes me laugh by mercilessly picking on Chandler.

“Dude, when are you going to find a good woman to settle down with?” Zack asks. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“I’ll settle down as soon as Jess finds me someone to get serious with,” Chandler responds in earnest.

“When did it become my responsibility to find you a wife?” I ask as I watch Chandler carefully cut around a sleeve pattern.

“Since the moment you decided to let me know exactly what you think about the women I’ve brought home to meet you so far,” Chandler answers. “You haven’t approved of any of them.”

“I don’t remember saying anything bad about them,” I defend.

Chandler stops what he’s doing to look me directly in the eyes. “As if you had to say anything out loud; I knew exactly what you were thinking by the look on your face.”

“Look? What look?” I ask, not realizing that I had ‘looked’ any particular way at Chandler’s numerous girlfriends over the past few years.

“Do you remember the Australian swimsuit model?” Chandler asks.

“The airhead?” I snort in response.

Chandler points at my face with the scissors still in his hands. “
That
look right there. See? You didn’t have to say you thought she was an airhead to her face. We could all tell that was exactly what you were thinking without you having to utter a word. Honestly, Jess, can you think of one woman I’ve brought over to meet you who you approved of?”

“You don’t need my approval, Chandler. You can date whomever you want.”

I hear Gabe start to laugh quietly over in the corner where he’s sitting on a stool, stitching a button onto a pair of pants.

“What?” I ask him more curtly than I had intended. “Do you have something to add to the conversation, Mr. Kinlan?”

Gabe looks up at me and smiles. “I just find it amusing that you think your opinion doesn’t matter, when yours is the one that matters the most.”

“Why should it?” I ask, not understanding his reasoning.

“Because, if you don’t like whoever Chandler marries, you won’t be able to hide it. Can you imagine how uncomfortable we would all be at family gatherings if you hated Chandler’s better half?”

“Unbearable,” Zack chimes in, shivering slightly at just the thought.

“I wouldn’t be that bad,” I say in my own defense, since it seems like no one else in the room will champion my honor.

“Yeah, you would,” Zack and Chandler say, unintentionally in unison.

I shrug. “So I’m not a good liar. I don’t think that’s a character flaw.”

“Which is why I have decided you should find my next girlfriend,” Chandler declares. “Let’s see if you can do any better than I have.”

I squint at Chandler. “Is that a challenge, rock star god?”

“Yes, it is,” Chandler says candidly. “I want to know what kind of woman you think I should be with.”

“Hmm,” I say, mulling this idea over in my mind. “I accept your challenge, Mr. Cane. Let me know when you’re ready to settle down.”

“Settle down?” Chandler asks, looking puzzled. “Why?”

“Because, if I find you a woman to date, I have a feeling you’ll end up marrying her and be permanently off the market. So, if you still feel like you have some wild oats to sow, get to it before I introduce you to your wife.”

Chandler smiles. “I’m ready when you are, Jess. Living the life of a rock star isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having a steady relationship for once. You guys and my parents are all the family I have.”

“And Horace,” I remind him.

Chandler grins. “Yeah, Uncle Horace, too. Which reminds me…have they found his counterpart here yet?”

I shake my head. “Not that I know of, but I need to ask about that. Though, finding him and King Solomon’s tomb is only half the battle. We still don’t know what we need to look for there.”

“Jered and Tristan have been going to that cemetery in Lakewood for the past couple of weeks,” Gabe informs me. “They saw Tara once, but she didn’t leave anything at the gravesite to help us out. I guess she hasn’t learned anything new yet.”

I sigh in disappointment. I was hoping we would be further along in discovering what Project T-7 was all about by now, but, with this news, it appears we aren’t any closer to uncovering what the princes are looking for.

Mason phases into the attic, instantly finding me with his gaze. From the look on his face, I know I won’t like what he has to say.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, going to him.

“Peyton has requested that we help in Dillon’s kidnapping,” Mason informs me.

“I know that already,” I say before what he said completely sinks in. “Wait. Are you saying she wants you and me to help?”

Mason nods his head.

“Why?” I ask, not seeing the point.

“We’re wanted by Ravan, which makes us the perfect candidates to lure Dillon away. Peyton knows that if Dillon sees us, she’ll do whatever it takes to bring us to her father like a prize.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say in exasperation.

“I wish I were,” Mason replies, not liking the plan either.

“I suppose they have a scheme set into place?”

“Yes.”

I hang my head, because it’s the last thing I want to do. Just when I was able to relax and share a little normalcy with my friends, this has to happen.

“When?” I ask tersely, not mad at Mason, but mad at the ruse Peyton is forcing us to play a part in.

“Tonight,” Mason answers. “Today is Dillon’s birthday. Peyton’s throwing her a party to celebrate.”

“How are we supposed to go to a party unnoticed?”

“Apparently, it’s a costume party,” Mason tells me. “Brand said he would find us some costumes that will conceal our identities.”

“I don’t like this, Mason,” I say, my heart dropping at the thought of what we are about to put Dillon through. I may not know her, but I can empathize with what is about to be done to her. We are about to take away a fundamental part of who she is. It was comparable to someone pulling my arms or legs from their sockets, and I hated being used in such a manner.

“None of us likes it,” Mason tells me, “but the alternative isn’t any better, Jess. We’ll just have to hope that this actually helps more than it hurts her in the long run.”

I couldn’t see how it would help anyone’s soul, much less Dillon’s. But I had to place my faith in Brand’s decision. He knew this world and its Watchers better than I did. I just hoped he understood the consequences of what he was about to do.

CHAPTER SEVEN

It’s decided that Tristan will attend the party with us. Sophia still wants him to talk to Logan about leaving Robert and joining her. Originally, Tristan was going to speak with Sophia’s estranged daughter at a concert Dillon was going to give, but, after the opening of the fourth seal, that plan fell through. It was a sure thing that Logan would be attending her half-sister’s birthday bash. It was the perfect opportunity for Tristan to speak with her in person, and it would also help keep her distracted while Mason and I played our part in Dillon’s abduction.

Just thinking about what we were about to do made me sick to my stomach, but I didn’t have a better alternative to the plan. I wish I did.

When Brand gives us our costumes, I have to ask, “Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s all there is, I’m afraid,” Brand says, looking uncomfortable with his meager offerings.

I look at the black leather bra and matching pants, which have four ragged slits across each thigh, like they were ripped open by claws. To hide my face, there is a small leather mask to wear over my eyes and a matching headband with two pointy cat ears. I hold up the cat o’nine tail whip and have to ask, “Are we going to a birthday party or an orgy?”

“Good question,” Mason mutters, looking dubiously at his skimpy Batman costume. There’s even less to his costume than mine. All he has is a headpiece, which will cover his entire head except his eyes and lower half of his face, with an attached cape and a pair of stretchy black briefs with a black leather tool belt. There is a yellow Batman symbol embossed in the center of the belt buckle.

“Trust me,” Brand says, “if you wear anything more you’ll stand out in the crowd that’ll be there. I promise you won’t have to be in these costumes for very long. Tristan striking up a conversation with Logan will be your cue to entice Dillon to the back of the house. Nina will be waiting out there to grab Dillon as soon as she walks out the door.”

“And how exactly do you want us to lure her away from her own party?” I ask.

“Just make sure she’s looking at you when you remove your mask, Jess,” Brand instructs.

“And what’s to prevent her from involving some of her friends to help capture us?” I ask.

“It’s not in her nature to ask for help,” Brand says confidently. “Dillon will want to keep all the credit for your capture for herself. Her ego won’t allow her to share the glory.”

“Will her father be there?” Mason asks.

“No. Neither Will nor Robert should be in attendance. They’re not much for parties, much less ones for the younger crowd. And,” Brand says hesitantly, “I want you both to know that I did try to talk Peyton out of disfiguring Dillon, but she wouldn’t budge on the matter. Maybe I just wasn’t persuasive enough.”

“At least you tried to talk some sense into her,” I tell Brand, noticing the deadness in his eyes with what he is going to have to do. “You’ve done all you can.”

“Have I?” Brand asks, sounding doubtful. “I don’t feel like I have.”

“Sometimes leaders have to make decisions that they don’t like,” I tell him, attempting to give him some peace of mind. “You’re doing the best you can with the information we have. Plus, I don’t think you would be able to live with yourself if you let Ava die after risking her life to help us. Lucifer may or may not be able to help the infected, but Ava’s life is definitely worth saving.”

“I’ve sent Baruch and Isaiah to get Mia,” Brand tells us. “She should be here by the time we get back with her mother. Ava will want to know that her daughter is safe. I was concerned about what Lucian or the others might do to Mia once they learn Ava has escaped.”

“Nothing good, would be my guess,” I say.

“Which is why we’re being proactive with her safety,” Brand says. “I can’t live with the loss of another innocent life.”

“You’re not killing Dillon,” I remind him.

“I might as well be,” Brand replies, not allowing himself an easy out. “Anyway, the two of you should go ahead and get dressed. You’ll need to leave soon.”

Brand turns and walks away, obviously not wanting to continue the discussion.

Mason phases us to our room so we can change into our costumes. It doesn’t take us long, since there isn’t much to put on. I can’t help but gawk at my husband’s appearance after he’s dressed.

“I’m not sure I should let you go into a room full of people dressed like that,” I tell Mason, having a hard time keeping my eyes off him. Simply being bare-chested would be enough to lure any woman’s gaze to Mason, but the tight black briefs are outlining a lot more of my husband than I want others to see.

“I could say the same thing,” Mason says, his eyes traveling the length of me. “I don’t think I should let you go out in public either.”

I smile, but it’s a weak one. Although I find my husband extremely attractive in his outfit, the reason we’re dressed the way we are is just too depressing to allow for a proper flirtation.

“Come on,” I say, “let’s get this over with.”

Mason phases us downstairs to the library, where we find Tristan, Jered, and Brand talking amongst themselves. I should have known Jered wouldn’t let Tristan go without him. The two men had grown very protective of one another over the years. The fact that Tristan could track Jered down in a city filled with millions of people was proof that their bond with one another was stronger than any of us had realized. Jered likened it to the connection between a father and son. Since Jered lost his son a few years back, and Tristan broke the bond with his own father, it seemed like a natural pairing that would help heal them both in time.

I feel my cheeks warm with a blush as I regard Tristan in his costume. I’ve always known he was an attractive young man, but this was the first time I’d ever seen him without a shirt on. He’s dressed like a firefighter, but not like one I have ever had the good fortune of meeting in real life. He’s wearing a blue jacket with yellow stripes on the sleeves. It’s open in the front, revealing a very taut abdomen and well-developed chest. The yellow turnout pants he’s wearing hang extremely low on his hips, with the red suspenders dangling loosely on either side. He’s wearing a black metal firefighter hat on his head, with a yellow ‘7’ stamped on the front.

I must have stared a little too long, because Tristan pulls the front of his jacket together, hiding himself behind the cloth.

I shake my head a little to clear out the vision of a half-naked Tristan, and attempt to act normal. Mason leans over to me and whispers in my ear, “Should I have dressed like a firefighter?”

I know he’s picking on me by the teasing way he asked his question, but it doesn’t cure my embarrassment. I lean over and whisper, “Don’t be surprised if I get you an outfit like that for Christmas.”

Mason grins, leaning in and giving me a kiss. “I look forward to putting out your fire, Mrs. Collier.”

I glance down at little Mason and say, “Well, you’re definitely equipped for the job, Mr. Collier.”

Mason’s grin widens before I hear Brand clear his throat to remind us that we’re not alone in the room, and that it’s not big enough for our conversation to be completely private.

Thankfully, Jered is wearing the leather outfit JoJo made for him. I wasn’t sure what I would do if three of the four men in the room were practically naked.

“I assume you intend to be invisible at the party,” I say to Jered as Mason and I walk up to join the others.

“Yes,” Jered confirms. “I’m just Tristan’s moral support and ride out of there this evening.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to say to Logan to convince her to give her mom a second chance?” I ask Tristan.

“I’ve thought of a lot of things to say,” Tristan says, “but I’m still not sure any of it will convince her.”

“Just speak from your heart,” I advise. “Anything else won’t sound genuine. It’s better not to overthink things like that. I’m surprised Sophia isn’t here to give you some talking points.”

“She basically told me what you just did,” Tristan says. “I don’t think she expects Logan to come back with me tonight, but I can at least let her know how much her mother loves her. That’s all Sophia really wants.”

Nina phases into the room, wearing one of the outfits JoJo made for the Watchers on this Earth.

“I was wondering how you were going to be at the party and go unnoticed,” I say, looking at her maroon and black outfit.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you people don’t live in these things,” Nina says, straightening out the collar of her jacket. “They’re so soft and comfortable. I’m not sure I’ll ever want to take it off.”

“Where’s Rafe been today?” I ask, knowing Nina appointed herself as his protector while he healed as many people as he could.

“He’s in the kitchen eating with your other friends at the moment,” Nina tells me. “I told him he needed to take the night off to rest. Surprisingly, he didn’t put up much of an argument, and is taking my advice.”

“He’s dedicated his life to helping others,” I say. “It’s just his nature.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Nina replies, sounding irritated, but not in a bad way. From the exasperated expression on her face, I can tell that she’s had her fair share of arguments with Rafe about his need to be so self-sacrificing.

I notice Nina briefly look Mason up and down before a slow, appreciative grin spreads her lips.

“You picked a good body, Samyaza,” she says approvingly.

“Eyes up, soldier,” Mason tells her, effectively lifting Nina’s gaze. “We have a job to do.”

“Yes, we do,” Nina agrees, as the gravity of what we are about to undertake seems to land firmly on her shoulders again.

“I’ll meet you all on the island. Good luck,” Brand says, before phasing away.

“Island?” I ask Mason.

“The one Peyton picked for her and Dillon to live on,” my husband tells me. “Brand took me there earlier so I would know where to go.”

“Everyone ready for me to phase us to the party?” Nina asks as we all gather in a circle to hold hands.

“If I said no, would it make a difference?” I ask before taking hold of Mason and Nina’s hands.

“Not really,” Nina admits. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Before phasing, Nina and Jered turn invisible. When we arrive at our destination, I feel like I just stepped into the party scene of “Animal House”. As long as no one screams ‘food fight!’, I think I’ll be all right.

As I scan the other partygoers, I see that Brand wasn’t joking about how we needed to dress in order to blend into the crowd here. I actually begin to feel a bit over- dressed, considering what some of the other women are wearing…or not wearing, for that matter. The music blaring from the speakers in the large ballroom we’re standing in is actually kind of catchy. It isn’t until I spot the stage on the opposite side of the room from us that I know the music is live.

The lead singer of the band is a young girl with spiky, short blonde hair. She’s dressed in a steampunk outfit composed of a tight leather corset over a loose, but short, brown shift dress. The girl holds the mic like it’s a physical extension of herself. Her voice has a natural, lilting quality that becomes addictive to listen to. I can fully understand why the crowd is so enraptured by her performance.

“That’s Dillon singing,” I hear Nina say while she maintains her invisibility.

“Nina, do you see Logan?” Tristan asks, searching the crowd for Sophia’s daughter.

“Yes,” Nina tells him, “she’s standing just off stage to the right.”

When I look where Nina says Logan is standing, I immediately notice her physical resemblance to Sophia. Most women don’t usually look like younger versions of their mothers, but, in this case, Logan actually does. She has the same honey-colored skin and silky brown hair as her mother. She’s wearing what looks like a circus ringmaster’s costume with tight black shorts, red-tailed jacket, black top hat, and knee- high gold boots.

As I continue to watch Dillon sing to her fervent crowd, something inside me yells that we’re doing the wrong thing. There’s simply no way Dillon will come out of this experience the same person she is now. Peyton’s good intentions of saving her daughter’s soul may simply crush it instead. I don’t know what horrors Will has made Dillon commit to please him, but it doesn’t really matter in the end. I decide then that I have to make one last attempt to talk Brand out of not only ripping her wings from her body, but also irrevocably tearing her life apart. I can’t live with the knowledge that I played a part in scarring the soul of someone who sings like an angel. I may not be able to stop what’s already been set into motion, but I have to try for my own soul’s sake.

“Good,” I hear a woman say behind us, “you’re finally here.”

When I turn around, I see a strawberry-blonde-haired woman standing directly behind me. She’s beautiful, if a bit haughty-looking, with an oval face and penetrating, cat-like green eyes. For the party, she’s chosen to come as a sexed-up version of Cleopatra. The front of her gown is so low, an ample portion of her breasts is exposed in the middle, and the hem of the dress is so high, her thighs are on full display.

“I see the outfits I sent over fit well,” the woman says, looking Mason up and down admiringly, which earns her a dirty look from me. “You’re in fine form, Samyaza. I have to admit, I never thought I would see you again.”