Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(10)

Blaze stared straight ahead, his head tilting to one side and then the other as he examined a pink crystal.

“Blaze?” I asked cautiously.

His head slowly turned toward me, his long, gray hair tied back in a braid by a rainbow bandana. “Dex. Heeeeey, Little Dude. Good to see you.”

Blaze had gotten his nickname for his affinity for the recreational pursuit. But he looked a little more out of it than usual.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Totally.” He grinned. “That friend of yours, Lolli, asked me to sample her new blend of the good stuff, but her homemade grows might be a little stronger than mine because I don’t think you have pink hair in real life.”

I tried not to laugh. Connecting him with one of my best friend’s soon-to-be grandmothers might have been a mistake, given her penchant for brownies with a little something extra. “I do not have pink hair, but I am hoping you can perform a miracle.”

“Talk to me, Little Dude.”

Blaze had called my brothers and me Little Dude since we came to live with my great-uncle and continued to despite the fact that I was now six feet four and over two hundred pounds.

“Do you, by any chance in tourist hell, have a cabin I could rent? Even just for the summer?” I asked.

Blaze blinked a few times, moving slowly and then suddenly speeding up, jumping out of his chair and heading to a board of keys. “Miracles abound, Little Dude. Just gotta open your eyes to truly see them.”

My lips twitched. “And to see the pink hair?”

Blaze grinned. “Pink’s your color. A couple just canceled on one of the Creekside Cabins. They were gonna be here all summer.”

Relief washed through me fast and fierce. I loved my family. Wanted to spend plenty of time with them. But I also needed my space—all of us Archer brothers did in our own ways.

I clapped Blaze on the shoulder. “You are my hero.”

He sent me one of those lopsided grins. “I’m just happy as hell you’re home. Waylon missed you.”

Guilt pricked at me. Ever since I’d gotten arrested at twenty-one and was given an ultimatum by the FBI—come work for them or do the time for hacking into one of their servers—I hadn’t been home much. My three-times-a-year trips had been shorter, and my stays distracted because my head was usually stuck in a case.

One for the FBI or one of the others—the ones my brothers and I worked in the quiet, anonymously trying to help where we could. I didn’t need to be a profiler to understand why. We were doing penance for crimes that weren’t ours.

“Little Dude?” Blaze pressed.

I blinked a few times, clearing away the ghosts—no, the demons. “I’m happy to be back, too.”

“Good.” Blaze’s voice went a little dreamy again.

I shook my head and accepted the key. “How much do I owe you for first and last?”

He just waved me off. “I’ll invoice you.”

My brow about hit my hairline. “You using a computer now?”

“I got me one of those tablets. Granddaughter taught me.”

Laughing, I shoved the key with the cabin number on the chain into my pocket. “Small miracles.”

“They are everywhere, Little Dude.”

I gave Blaze a wave as I headed out, moving down the stairs and into the sunshine. I started down the block toward my SUV, which was in a parking place much farther away, thanks to the spot-stealer.

Just as I hit the curb to step down, something hit me. Right on top of my head with a force that spoke of heat-seeking missiles or air-dropped bombs. It was a bomb, all right. As I felt the top of my head, my face screwed up in a scowl.

Bird poop.

More than half a dozen curses left my lips. But as a familiar face spotted me from down the block, a man who always looked at me and my brothers with wariness in his eyes, I shoved those curses down. Swallowed them like I did all the things I wanted to give voice to but didn’t.

Instead, I climbed behind the wheel of my SUV, wiping away the worst of the bird crap with some fast-food napkins and water from the bottle in the cupholder. I ground my back molars the entire ten-minute drive to the cabins along Clover Creek. It wasn’t until I saw that not another person was in sight near the three cabins along the winding water that I truly breathed.

But I still couldn’t take in the beauty around me. All I could think about was a shower and some painkillers for the headache I was now rocking. I hauled the one duffel I’d need out of the back seat and started for the cabin’s front door. They weren’t fancy, but I knew Blaze had a crew that made sure they were clean. And he could handle any repairs.

Cabin Two was bigger than expected. Three bedrooms. Two baths. A living room and kitchen that flowed together. And a yard with an epic view of the creek, the fields, and the forest beyond.

But I only cared about the shower.

I went straight for the bathroom, dumping my bag; shucking my shoes, glasses, and clothes; and climbing into the spray. There were a couple mini-bottles of shampoo, and I washed my damn hair twice, rolling my neck under the stream and hoping it would unlock some of the knots.

Finally, the water started to turn lukewarm, and I forced myself to climb out of the antique-looking shower/tub combo. It sure as hell wasn’t made for a man my size, but I made do.

A noise caught my attention as I rubbed the towel over my hair. Scraping. Someone trying to pick a lock?