Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (reading books for 4 year olds TXT) 📕

Her gaze darted to Finch. “You said you wanted to help, so help us. Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” Finch replied, entirely sincere. No name-brand sarcasm.

“Talk to Erebus and find out what’s going on. Please, Finch. You know him better than anyone. He might speak to you,” she begged.

Finch gripped the edge of the mattress until his knuckles whitened. “I’ll try.”

Santana had been right. There was something off with Finch. His whole manner seemed odd. I might’ve attributed it to his disorder, but this didn’t feel delusional. I hadn’t seen him have any episodes, but I’d read up. This didn’t fit the bill. No, something else was afoot here. Finch wasn’t telling us everything, just as Santana suspected. However, I knew Finch. If he was staying quiet, he had a reason. Likely, one that involved sparing us from Erebus’s unpleasantness. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to stay silent if it affected me and my father.

He had a good soul, deep down, and he had certainly shown he was no longer driven by selfish motivation. He’d done his mother’s bidding because she’d brainwashed him. Since meeting Harley, he’d been on a steady path to redemption. So his silence couldn’t be selfish. That wasn’t who he was anymore.

“I’ll speak to Finch alone, later,” I said to Santana, attempting to calm her down. She opened her mouth to protest but changed her mind.

When I did speak to Finch alone, I’d get to the bottom of this. With my father lying unconscious next to me, and the djinn inside me trying to kill us both, finding out what Finch knew had skyrocketed to my second-highest priority. A tiny step behind Santana, who would always have the top spot.

Thirteen

Finch

Meet me at the infirmary as soon as you get this.

The buzz of Raffe’s text interrupted the precious few hours of sleep I’d managed. My cheek lay squashed against the opening chapters of the pilfered book, and a streak of drool was drying on the page.

You’ll have to wait, my pretty. I closed the book and slid it under my pillow for safekeeping. Rubbing the gunk from my eyes, my hair sticking up at all angles, I slipped out of my threadbare PJs and headed back to Krieger’s lair. Not nude, of course. I put clothes on first. Raffe had endured enough horrors.

“Morning sunshine,” I crowed, entering the infirmary with a spring in my step. My gremlins seemed to be enjoying a well-earned lie-in. Either that or my pills were finally working again. Or it’s the calm before a big storm… I shrugged off the last possibility.

Raffe was sitting up in bed, sipping coffee. “That was quick.”

“You thought I’d just lay around?” I smiled, and it came easily for the first time in days.

“No, you looked insanely tired last night. I thought you’d be out of it for longer,” he replied.

“The early bird gets the worm and all that.” I plonked down on the seventies-esque vinyl chair beside his bed. It still felt warm, like someone had recently vacated it. Santana, probably. Raffe had likely waited until she’d reluctantly gone to bed before calling in the big bad wolf.

“For what it’s worth, you look better today.” He poured a second cup of coffee from a pot on his side table, using a clean mug that’d probably been put there for Santana, and handed it to me.

I smirked. “I can’t look that good if you’re offering me the strong stuff.”

“That’s because we’ve got a lot to talk about.” He flicked some internal switch, turning serious on me. “I want to know what’s really going on. You didn’t want to say anything in front of Santana last night, and I figure you’ve got your reasons. But if this affects me and Kadar, I need the details.”

“Can’t a guy just help out without everyone leaping to conclusions?” I focused on my mug, taken aback by his bluntness.

“Not when you go all pale and awkward at the mention of talking to Erebus,” Raffe replied. Dammit, he definitely had my number.

I raised an eyebrow. “I always get twitchy over talking to Erebus. It’s not good for my health.”

“You’re withholding information. I can see it in your eyes.” Raffe wasn’t backing down.

“I didn’t realize you were gazing into them. If I’d known, I’d have given you my most seductive stare.” I realized I’d entered a losing battle. Would it really be so bad if Raffe knew? He had a djinn inside him. Maybe that made him immune to any dastardly deeds Erebus might rustle up, if Raffe ended up on the ever-growing hit list…

“If this was just about you, I wouldn’t pry. And I won’t spread it around. I need to know for Kadar’s sake. I don’t want him to throw us off the nearest roof again.” Raffe’s voice faltered, slamming me right in the feels.

I took a deep gulp of coffee. “You asked for this.”

“I did, and I’m ready to hear it,” Raffe replied firmly.

I glanced at Krieger’s office. Through the glass, I saw him at his workbench, poring over blood samples. He wouldn’t interrupt us anytime soon. And Levi, who lay in the next bed, was out cold. Though him overhearing wasn’t really a problem, since this concerned him, too. Without further delay, the story slipped out easily, as I’d had quite a bit of practice telling it by now. Like a well-rehearsed monologue on opening night, I told him about my missions for Erebus and painted the horrifying picture of Erebus emerging from the Fountain of Youth like a male supermodel, now able to walk in the real world. I stopped there, steering clear of Atlantis. I figured it was best not to mention it, in case it did get them an honorary spot on the hit list.

“Anyway, his ‘emergence,’ as I like to call it, coincides with Kadar’s sickness.” I wrapped the facts up with a neat bow before moving on to my assumptions. “I wouldn’t be surprised