Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(87)

“A good thing?”

I opened Mom’s top drawer and pulled out a thick leather-clad book. Thumping it onto the desk, I tapped the cover. “It’ll give us some time to figure out what Simon and Valefar meant about saving you. They both said there was a chance, and that it was right under our noses. All we need to do is find out what it is.”

He sank into the chair across from me and peered over the stacks of paper. “And that’s going to help?”

“Simon’s brother Charles started this. From the dates, I’d bet it wasn’t long after you got re-trapped in the box and Simon was killed. It categorizes and lists every Otherworlder he ever crossed paths with.” I opened the book to a random page. “All the Darkers since have added to it. It’s like an Otherworlder encyclopedia.”

“You think something in there will tell us where to look?”

We were running on time fumes. In less than six hours, Lukas would be pulled back into the box, and I would lose him forever. This was my last chance to save him. “If there’s something out there that’s got the power to help you, it’ll be in here.”

…

I slammed the book closed with a heated snap. All night and we still had nothing. I wasn’t a pessimist by any definition, but I was seriously starting to doubt we’d find what we were looking for in time.

On the couch across the room, Lukas had his nose buried in a book. Every once in awhile, I’d glance over and catch him watching me with an odd smile on his face. He meant what he’d said about going back in the box. He didn’t want to—he’d miss me—but he was at peace with it. He felt he deserved it because of what he’d been planning to do to his father.

“We’ve only got a few hours left,” I said, voice low. If someone else had said it in a similar situation, I would’ve been tempted to slug them. Stating the obvious was a serious pet peeve. But I felt compelled to say something—and that was all I could come up with. I slammed my hand down on the desk and kicked at the chair.

Lukas stood and came to the edge of the desk. “Jessie, you did all you could.”

“I guess no matter how hard I tried, this was inevitable.”

“What was?”

“My family is cursed.”

“Not anymore. Didn’t you say Valefar lifted it?”

“That’s not what I mean. In love. We’re cursed in love.”

“Why would you say that?”

I shrugged. “Simon loved your mother. They had to die to be together. Grandpa lost Grandma not long after Mom was born—even with the deal he made. Mom fell in love with someone she could never really be with. And now—” I sucked in a breath, unable to continue.

His lip twitched.

I wouldn’t say it. The “L” word. The worst four letters strung together to make the most evil word in all history. The best thing about Lukas, though? I didn’t think I had to say it. He knew how I felt without all the stupid words and mushy, overdone sentiment.

“If it hadn’t been for the box, I would have never met you.” Leaning across the desk, he cupped the side of my face and smiled. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but being here, the time we’ve had together… Knowing that the perfect someone for me was out there—it makes it all worth it.”

“How can you even say that?”

I was leaning forward now, so our faces, our lips, were just a fraction of an inch apart.

“I would have been nothing more than dust and bones long before you came into the world—yet I wasn’t. I got to find you.” His lips brushed mine once and he pulled away. “I got to know you. How could I regret that?”

I couldn’t stomach the acceptance in his eyes, so I looked away. Scanning the room for something else to focus on, my gaze found yesterday’s mail. A bill from Citibank, an ad from the local food store—and peeking out from the bottom, something that looked like a postcard.

Sliding the flyer and bill to the side, I picked up the small card. It was decorated with a scantily clad bimbo in a string bikini strolling across the sand. When I flipped it over, the bottom dropped from my stomach.

Sorry I didn’t give you a heads up before I left. I got called on a last minute job that turned into a vacation op. Neck deep in senoritas and margaritas–wish you were here.

-Love Paulson

The postmark said it was mailed two days ago from Cancun, Mexico. Two days ago, Lukas and I had been standing in Paulson’s living room—with Paulson.

“What’s wrong?” Lukas stood.

I wanted to say the postcard was a fake. How hard was it to forge someone’s handwriting? I did it all the time. Or maybe, Paulson had been on vacation and had the hotel he was staying at mail it for him. Maybe they’d forgotten and mailed it late.

But all that aside, Paulson would have mentioned being in Mexico when I’d seen him. He’d been trying for years to get Mom—and me—to go away with him. Strictly on a platonic level, he’d say to Mom, even though we all knew that was crap.

I handed Lukas the postcard. He skimmed it several times before setting it down. “You think it was Meredith?”

“Had to be. When we first met back at the school, she told me she could look like anyone she wanted.”

“But your friend seemed to know you. He mentioned something about the last time he saw you.”