Page 35 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

“You don’t approve?” I asked, mock hurt.

“I didn’t say that. I’m for sure gonna steal that robe if I get half a chance.”

I reached over and pulled both of the pens from her hair, handing them to her, and she glanced up at me with grateful surprise. It was odd, realizing someone knew you well enough to anticipate your needs.

“Oh,” she said. “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed me. An embarrassingly pleased sound escaped my throat, and she hummed, but when I began steering us back toward the bed, she laughed and pulled away.

“I want to,” she said. “Believe me, I really, really do, but I’m not willing to risk your mom kicking down the door while we’re…”

I grimaced. “Say no more. And I do mean that literally. I suppose we should find her before she finds us.”

Evangeline took my hand, and we went in search of my mother.

It didn’t take us long. The sitting area at the mouth of the hallway was occupied. My mother stood at the window, staring out over the rushing river below with her hands clasped behind her back. She looked drawn, but she was too well-practiced to let any of her tension show in her shoulders. Lissa lounged on a sofa, looking like the subject of an odalisque painting, but without the horrifically racist undertones. Theo was sprawled on a beanbag chair that was attempting to absorb them. They was the first to see us, but since they had to fight their way out of the beanbag chair to get to their feet, the other two beat them to me as Evangeline stepped aside to give them room. Lissa was half a step ahead of my mother, but stepped aside to let her go first.

My mother cupped my face in her cool hands, angling me toward the dwindling light from the windows.

“Gabriel,” she said softly. “It’s very good to see you.”

“Mother,” I choked out, stepping forward and hugging her. She went completely rigid, then slowly brought up a hand to pat me on the back. When she cleared her throat, I took that as my hint to end the embrace. The De Montclairs were not, traditionally speaking, huggers.

Lissa, however, was. She threw her arms around me and squeezed me tightly, then held me at arm’s length and looked me over.

“I’m not hurt,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The look she gave me said very clearly that she’d worry as much as she’d like, and I couldn’t stop her. “Maybe I wasn’t checking for injuries.” She sniffed. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure you’d dressed yourself suitably.”

Before I could complain about that, Theo nudged Lissa aside and yanked me into a firm hug as well. This surprised me enough that I stiffened, just like my mother had, but then I relaxed into it and hugged them back.

“Don’t do that shit again,” they muttered, pulling away. “You stressed us all the fuck out.”

“Excellent advice,” I said, completely deadpan. “I apologize for any inconvenience my kidnapping may have caused you.”

They snorted and punched me on the arm.

“Come along, come along,” Lissa said, taking my other arm and towing me to the stairs down to the second floor. “Those in our merry little band who actually eat food are teaching Vic how to make dinner.”

I hadn’t taken in the place when I arrived, but now that I was rested, I saw my surroundings with fresh eyes. The kitchen on the second floor was sprawling and open concept, with a mix of gleaming metal and cheap plastic. A neon-purple electric kettle designed to look like an elephant sat next to the top-of-the-line range. Novelty tourist magnets and scribbled notes covered the sleek fridge.

At the island, Vic was bent over a tray of something. Marcus was next to him, inspecting his work. A large redheaded man I didn’t recognize stood on Vic’s other side. He didn’t smell human, but I couldn’t place his scent. Isabella was perched on one of the bar stools, watching the trio with horrified fascination.

“Now, of course, if you want to, you can add a bar of dark chocolate,” Marcus said.

“You absolutely cannot,” the stranger said. “One piece. You can add maybe one piece of chocolate, or a small, small spoonful of baking cocoa, but don’t add an entire bar to your Bolognese. That’s… don’t do that.”

Evangeline cleared her throat pointedly, and the four of them turned their attention to us. In the chorus of general well-wishes and questions about how I felt, I got a firm clap on the back from Vic and a handshake from Marcus that left a smear of tomato paste on my palm.

Isabella gave me a little wave. “Good to see you walking around again.”

“Good to be walking around again,” I replied.

The stranger offered me a damp paper towel, and I wiped the tomato residue from my hand.

“Xarek,” he said. “I was Evangeline’s getaway ride for the citadel job. I’m sorry for the way things went down.”

His hair was the exact same color as the dragon’s scales, I realized. No wonder I hadn’t been able to place him—dragon shifters were very rare. “You got Evangeline to safety,” I said. “You have my gratitude for that.”

Behind me, I heard a stomach grumble, and I glanced over my shoulder. Evangeline looked embarrassed.

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