Page 77 of Gemini Wicked

While Zara fearlessly engages the hissing and grinding contraption of the espresso machine in some sort of struggle involving steam and milk—while she ignores me completely—I unbuckle my harness and prop my sheathed swords neatly against the wall.

Still, I keep them well within reach.

Covertly I watch her mates pile eggs and sow on their plates. Vasili holds himself apart and graces his plate sparingly with a tidy dollop of scrambled eggs and a token strip of sow. Ronin and Maxim tussle playfully over the sow, like two brothers instead of the intimate lovers they probably are, until Lucius intervenes to claim the lion’s share of the sow with a wolfish growl.

At last, they’ve all tromped noisily out to the great room with their eggs and suspicion.

Leaving Zara and me blessedly alone.

By now, my wild Gemini appears to have compelled the infernal espresso machine to do her queenly bidding. She stands in a shaft of sunlight that streams through the open kitchen window, cradles a steaming Icarus Academy mug between her small hands, and eyes me with pensive periwinkle eyes while she sips her latte.

She seems to expect me to speak. But I am afraid to make matters worse.

As the silence stretches, her teal brows compress in a pucker of annoyance.

I yearn to vanquish this abominable distance between us, crush her delectable body in my arms, bend her backward under the force of my ardor, and ravage her sweet mouth with kisses.

But her expression is not inviting.

She does not appear to appreciate the sight of me standing rigidly in her kitchen with my swords and armor, before my untouched tea, brewed by my host with his own hands.

In the tight-stretched silence, with the savory aroma of eggs and meat thick in the air, my hollow stomach gives another undignified grumble.

At last, her expression of annoyance softens. She hides a small smile behind her mug.

“They left some for you, okay?” She sighs. “Plus the girls are coming down. Dez and Racetrack. They’re my friends and they’re part of my court, you should meet them.”

“I am not opposed to meeting your court.” This much I can say in all honesty. “They will be welcome in Avalon.”

At the mention of Avalon, her expressive face hardens.

“Up to you whether you eat with the rest of us at the table—minus those swords—or standing alone in the kitchen.” Now her voice too is hard. “But I’m not doing this with you unless we’re with all of them too. All my guys. Right now, they don’t trust you, and I don’t blame ’em. So you gotta figure your shit out.”

That’s how my bride leaves me, in her strange and perilous electrified kitchen.

Standing alone.

Same as always.

Chapter Fifteen

Zara

There’s a Dark Fae in our kitchen and a feral dragon in our yard.

Right now, they’re both causing issues in our domus for totally different reasons.

“I don’t mind about the rose trellis or the herb garden, cobber,” Dez says timidly to the massive dragon who’s sprawled across our peristyle courtyard, with his snout protruding through the open glass doors and filling half our great room, while his thick forked tail floats in the pool.

“I’ve never been much for roses, to be honest, what with the prickly bits. Bloody-minded buggers, they are. And I can always plant more herbs, yeah?” Looking schoolgirl-tidy in her Monday plaid and sable ponytail, Dez hesitates with one hand resting on the big guy’s scaly muzzle.

Wistfully she glances at me standing next to her, nose-to-nose with Xhevith’s monumental mass. “If he could just spare the orchids…?”

“He doesn’t understand mortal speech,” Zephyr says coolly from his place at our oversized table.

He’s sitting, stiff as a fucking poker, with a gaping ring of empty space (super obvious) yawning between him and the rest of my guys.

Clearly, they’re all barely tolerating his presence.

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