Page 6 of Lost Kingdom

“So you landed on me next? Katie! I’m in New York. I don’t care about their sex life.”

My words pique Cato’s curiosity as I pass, his brows shooting high on his forehead and his studying gaze warming my flesh as I tuck the phone between my shoulder and ear, so I can use my newly freed hand to open the door. Immediately, the intensity of the sound surrounding me eases. Music that isn’t insanely loud on the other side of the door, punctuated by hordes and hordes of people competing to talk over one another, fades when I step into the hall and find only guards.

A dozen men, dressed in sharp suits and strapped with enough firepower to start a war, shield every entrance to Felix Malone’s weddingreception. Because he’s the second most powerful mob boss in New York City, and dying on your wedding day is simply… not preferable.

“How is New York, anyway?” Exhaling, Katie has a picture forming in my mind of her cute, five feet, three inches flopping onto the pillow-crowded couch in her apartment. She teaches second grade at a local elementary school, so once the afternoon hits and she can escape the noise, like me, she hurries home in search of comfort and solitude. We search for quiet, because the world is loud, even when people aren’t speaking. “It’s kinda weird that you’re employed here in Copeland, but you caught a case in New York, no? That hasn’t happened before.”

Ha! Only when I have a gangster’s wedding to attend, and decide that’s a secret I should keep from my overbearing, entirely sweet, gossip-y family.

“It’s not unheard of,” I lie. Sort of. “My boss is from New York, so she was called across. And since we work together on most cases, we decided I’d come with her. I expect to be home again in a day or two.”

“Where are you right now? I heard music.”

“It’s dinnertime here, so we’re at a restaurant that has live music.” Not a lie. Mostly. And thatmostlyis how I fly under the radar. “How are you, anyway? We haven’t talked a lot lately.”

“I spoke to you yesterday,” she snickers. “And considering I have seven siblings, I’d say my daily, or every-other-day, roster is pretty impressive. Mom and Daddy are starting to complain.”

“What about?” My heart gives a squeeze. “Why?”

“Because you haven’t been by the house in a couple of weeks for dinner. They think you’re either dating someone in secret, or you’re working too hard. Both options will soon land you with one ofthosetalks. You know the one.”

“The, ‘we’re disappointed you feel unable to share every single facet of your life with us’ talk.” I roll my eyes. “The, ‘family is family, Aubree. We’re your foundation. It’s important you revisit your foundation before it crumbles’ talk.”

She giggles. “The, ‘it’s okay to discuss sex, orgasms, and philosophy at the dinner table. It’s even totally cool to discuss dead people and decaying bodies. But it’s absolutely not okay to mention politics, because politics divides families, and we won’t become a victim to that nonsense’talk.”

“I think our family is toxic,” I tease, though my smile stretches across my face until I feel it in my cheeks. “It sounds worse than it actually is.”

“They just want open communication. And codependence. Are you dating someone in secret?”

“God no.” I bark out a laugh and draw the side-eye of the closest guardwho stands about twelve feet from where I do. “There’s this guy, I suppose. I’ve mentioned him before. But we’re not dating. We’re still tap-dancing way back at the ‘can we tolerate each other’ stage of things.”

“Will you bring him home to meet us?” She lowers her voice, conspiratorially sly. “Eli told me that the guy was at the hospital with you a few months back. He said the dude is big and scary. But he didn’t name names.”

“Are you asking for you? Or are you asking for Eddie? Because I’m not bringing anyone home to meet my father until I’m absolutely ready,andthe dude is prepared for the insanity that is our family.”

“I was asking for me. And if you call Dad ‘Eddie’ to his face, he’s gonna give you the,‘I’m disappointed that you feel the need to disrespect me at my own table’talk.”

“Jesus.” I bring my champagne up and take a slow, sampling sip until bubbles tingle on my tongue. “So freakin’ toxic, but it’s ridiculously wholesome. Everyone I work with calls me a hippie because of us. Did you know that?”

“A hippie?”

“Because I wear color and I’m one of eight siblings where everyone gets along. It’s not normal.”

“I like color too.” She shrugs—it’s audible, so once again, I picture the movement in my mind. “It’s not our fault Mom likes to normalize sex talks or that Dad studies humans for a living.”

“Used to. Retirement means he hasmorefree time to think up waystomake us feel guilty. Are you sneak-dating anyone?”

She chokes out a laugh so loud I know the guards hear her. “Sneak dating? No. Sneak casual sex and not telling my parents about it? Absolutely! I was with this man recently.” She lowers her voice. “He was huge, Aubs. Six and a half feet, at least. He was loaded. Like…” She gasps. “He had this entire company with his name on the building, and machinery and all sorts of stuff. He drove a brand-new truck, and had a boat in the driveway, and he took me to hishouse. Not an apartment. But a whole house up on the hills where the rich people live. He was super nice. And he ate kitty, so I know he’s sexually unselfish.”

“Katie!” My chest and shoulders bounce with laughter, while the guards work hard not to let on that they’re listening. “You didn’t have to tell me about the kitty stuff! That’s your business.”

“I’m not your mother,” she drawls. “Sisters share this kind of stuff. Anyway, Sebastian, that was his name, was a total sweetheart. Ordereddinner while I was there. We watched a movie. He made out with my neck a lot. And I got to come more often than he did.”

“So what was the issue?”

“He wanted a girlfriend,” she audibly shudders. “And I’m allergic to commitment.”

I snort and turn my back to the door when it opens, the music and chatter inside like a wall of noise. “You’ll settle down someday, Sissy. Maybe not with Sebastian, but with someone. When that day comes, you don’t have to tell me he eats kitty.”