Page 35 of Feral Possession

“You can’t be serious. People don’t put me in charge of things. Ask Vivian and Armond. I’m the most irresponsible person I know. Surely, you don’t intend to make me responsible for a malevolent demon.”

“You’ll coordinate with Bishop.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel so much better.” She huffed then straightened, a conniving gleam in her eyes. “Fine then. If I’m going with you on this trip, I’ll need an assistant.”

Apprehension coursed through him. “It’s vital no one learns of my situation.”

She shrugged. “Bishop can vet her. Seems to me he’s pretty good at running background checks. Also, you’ll be happy to hear that you own the building where she both lives and does business.”

That did give him leverage. Still…

At his hesitation, she added, “Like you said, time is of the essence. Having help would fast-forward our progress.”

“Fine. I’ll let Bishop know.” He eyed her pajamas and bare feet. “You’ll need an appropriate wardrobe. I’ll contact one of my associates and have them prepare something suitable for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re headed to a tropical paradise. All I’ll need is a bikini and a toothbrush.”

Given their host was an incubus, he doubted she’d even need that much. The thought of another male seeing his Chosen bare stirred something violent inside of him. Over his dead body would Xavier see her naked. These possessive urges were likely due to the bond between them. Nothing more. Still, he couldn’t have her embarrassing him. “As an honored Chosen of a House lord, you will dress the part. Appearances must be maintained, which is why my associate will handle your wardrobe.”

In response, she hopped off her stool and walked away, hips swaying in a hypnotic fashion. Over her shoulder, she offered him a coy smile. “Your loss, Steele.”

He frowned, staring at her shapely ass. His loss indeed.

Eight

Celeste sank her fingers into Dove’s biceps. “Are you kidding me?”

Dove smacked her palm over her friend’s hand. “Pinch me harder because I’m sure I’m dreaming.”

After hours spent on Marcus’s lavish private jet, they’d switched to a seaplane. From there, they’d soared over gorgeous turquoise waters to a not-so-tiny island owned by Xavier Delgado. When they’d exited onto a pier, Dove couldn’t resist flinging out her arms out and shouting. “Boss, da plane, da plane!” Only Celeste had laughed. So sad. She really needed to broaden Marcus’s knowledge of pop culture.

Dove and Celeste entered the resort, arm in arm, gawking like a pair of country mice in New York. Massive stone warriors buttressed the gilded ceiling. Tridents clasped in their powerful fists. Marble floors veined with turquoise stretched out beneath them. The effect like rippling water. Carved arches framed the Grecian windows. Gauzy draperies billowed in a salty ocean breeze.

Marcus and Bishop followed them. The rest of his security team had peeled off as soon as they arrived, tasked with securing the island. Dove envied them. She’d love a chance to explore. Behind her, Marcus and Bishop spoke in low murmurs, no doubt working out a game plan. The vampire really needed to learn how to put work aside and simply enjoy the moment.

“Can you believe this place?” Celeste squealed, grip tightening.

“It’s like walking into Atlantis,” Dove said.

Marcus groaned a pained sound. “I think I hear our host coming.”

In the distance, her ears picked up the tickslap, tickslap, noise of flip-flops heading their way. To her surprise, the owner of this magical island wasn’t a silver-haired Mr. Rourke in a crisp white suit. Nor was he Jason Momoa’s Aquaman rising out of the ocean, all wet and muscley. In need of a towel and a thorough slathering of sunscreen.

No.

The man who greeted them was a stout five-foot. Maybe. His short-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned, baring his rounded stomach. Covering his chest was an unruly carpet of man hair. Gold chains nestled in his fuzzy thatch. Linen pants encased his plump thighs, and his tubby toes poked out of his sandals resembling a tray of Jimmy Dean sausages. Balanced on his curly head was a golden crown of leaves, the likes of which Caesar would have envied.

Stopping before them, he held out his arms, thrusting his ample gut into profile. “Greetings, and welcome to Adara Island!” he bellowed like a circus ringmaster, plump cheeks drawn back in a debonair smile.

Dove stared at him wide-eyed, heart high, breath tight in her chest. By the Goddess, he was fabulous! She burst into applause.

Celeste grabbed her hands, bringing her enthusiastic response to an abrupt halt.

“Sorry,” Dove whispered, face heating. So much for looking the part of a House lord’s distinguished Chosen.

Xavier straightened, greeting her first instead of his exalted guest, perhaps due to her obvious adoration. “Ah, you must be Dove. How wonderful to have such a charming creature on my island. You are even more exotic than the rarest Bird of Paradise.” He claimed her hand and placed a kiss on her fingertips. As he did so, the most delightful fragrance hit her nostrils. Xavier smelled like all the things she loved, salted caramel, fresh strawberries, lavender, and Christmas all rolled into one mouthwatering scent. It took everything she had not to step closer and lick his pudgy cheek.

Next, he turned to Celeste. “And this must be your gifted spell caster. Here to work her whiles on us all.”

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