Page 118 of Gemini Wicked

Otherwise, this whole joint is basically one huge round bed, soft and squishy, gleaming with the feathery pastel iridescence of Faerie blankeys. I take one look and wanna sink right down into those deep soft depths with all my guys. Especially with accessories like fur-lined leather cuffs chained to the wall, a cushioned spanking bench parked against one window, and Zephyr’s impressive collection of immaculately kept floggers, crops, and whips lovingly displayed on the walls.

Sweet Jesus.

The guy’s even got a high-end dildo collection I’ve somehow missed getting acquainted with, I mean, until now.

Now he’s not even hiding that shit.

This whole space is dimly lit by an impressive jumble of glowing violet crystals hanging from the ceiling, plus an ebbing sliver of ruby sunset over the flat expanse of orchid sea. Faint pinprick stars wink into view against the purple sky.

I’m still gaping at the spectacle when the guys pile into the room behind me. Like me, they stop and stare.

“Oh, crap,” Neo whispers.

But he doesn’t sound freaked out. He sounds… awed and reverent.

I sneak a peek at my fated mate and find him gazing at the elegant St. Andrew’s Cross suspended over the bed. His lips are parted and his glasses are steaming.

Yowsa. That’s gonna be something worth exploring.

But not now.

Zephyr slices one look across the empty room with its intriguing array of sexual options, then pivots and darts through one of two doors that bracket the one we just came through. I peek past the open door not chosen—clearly some kinda ultra-luxe bathroom sitch I totally wanna check out later, but it’s empty.

Then I follow my fleet-footed Unseelie down a couple of stairs into a crescent-shaped den.

These digs are totally different, more like an Old World library done in weathered seadrift wood, piled high with shelves upon shelves of books that soar all the way to the shadowy ceiling. Complete with a rolling stair, a cluster of high-backed chairs and ottomans around a fireplace, the dangling complexity of an orrery with planets and moons and shit, then a massive desk backed up against a pair of stained-glass doors and a balcony.

It’s obvi to me this is a well-loved and lived-in space, the desk cluttered with open books and curling papers and a witchlight orb for a reading lamp. Lavender witchfire crackles from a jumble of crystals in the hearth.

But this room too is empty.

Even though the still air is haunted by the bracing ocean-and-citrus aroma that says Ash to me.

“Ash,” I say softly to Zephyr’s still frame. He’s standing totally still before the desk, staring at it intently, like he really hoped to find our guy there and now he’s trying to will his Seelie lover into appearing. “Where is he?”

Slowly Zephyr turns to face me, his face all stark and drawn. Under the green slash of his eyepatch, his olive skin stretches tight. His throat ripples as he swallows.

“Where is he?” I ask again in a tiny voice, because now I’m afraid to hear the answer.

My Unseelie pulls in a slow breath. The soft sound fills the heavy silence.

Quietly he tells me, “I do not know.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Neo

“That’s bullshit,” my Zara says, in a hard voice that’s meant to downplay how freaked out she is, just so we don’t worry about her. “If Ash is supposed to be here and he’s not, that means there’s a major problem. We gotta find him. Like, now.”

I’m worried about the Seelie Prince too.

I mean, it’s not like Ash and I are lovers or anything (yet) because things are really complicated between Ronin and Zephyr (and don’t even get me started on Zephyr and Vasili). So we’ve all been taking it really slow when it comes to integrating Zara’s Fae ménage with the rest of our polycule.

But Ash is just really decent. He’s always been super nice to me.

Plus my fated mate’s in love with him.

Zara falls fast and hard. I think it’s a queen thing and her Gemini instincts tell her when someone’s right for us.

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