Page 91 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

Joe freed himself, only slightly, from Percy’s embrace and nodded to a plaque on the wall that informed strangers they were at the onetime apartment of Edgar Degas. “We’re going on an art tour?”

“No.” Percy stepped forward, slid his key into the lock, and opened the red door. “We’re home.”

Leo and Althea went in first, running up the stairs with Moxie and Cleo, while Joe stood on the street, hands in pockets, looking at Percy. “It’s his old apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you never mentioned that.”

Percy’s smile was both coy and sweet. “I don’t want you to get bored of me.”

Joe laughed and made his way over to Percy, stopping in the doorway, his hand toying with the top button of Percy’s shirt. “Home, huh? Your little place in Montmartre?”

Percy took a few seconds to enjoy the moment, the image of him. Joe’s hair in the soft afternoon sunshine. Joe with groceries, exactly like he was coming home, to their home, to spend a very normal evening together. “I told you, we’ll do whatever you like, live wherever you want. But it’s mine, so… that means it’s yours too.”

Joe smiled. Joe kissed him right there on what had just becometheirdoorstep.

That sapphire ring felt hot and heavy in Percy’s pocket. Maybe now? Maybe this was the perfect moment? Right now, bringing him home, right here on the threshold of their new life. So simple. So easy. What could be better?

Percy’s hand slid into his pocket. “Joe?—”

“Percy!” Leo shouted down the stairs. “You need to take a look at this.”

The urgency that sharpened Leo’s voice propelled Percy, two stairs at a time, up to his apartment. Leo stepped back, held the door wide, and Percy let go such a thoroughly unpublishable list of expletives that it cannot possibly be recorded here.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

HOME AWAY FROM HOME

Percy’s apartment was beautiful. In its bones, it was undeniably gorgeous. High ceilings, tall windows, sublime light playing across crystal chandeliers, and a pale wooden floor that reflected it all beautifully across the enormous open-plan space. Unfortunately, that floor was now covered in just about everything Percy owned outside of his bank vault. What was there was smashed and broken, trampled, utterly ruined. Cushions were torn from the lounge, ripped apart, stuffing pulled out. Jars from cupboards and the fridge were thrown across the room, streaking the walls with mess of every colour. Every painting had been pulled from the wall, every item of furniture had been upturned and searched. The bedrooms and bathrooms were just as bad, mattresses ripped from the beds, pillows slashed, bottles emptied, leaving the whole place reeking of expensive perfumes.

Percy turned on his kitten at once. “Your witch did this, didn’t she?”

The ball of fluff drew back on its haunches. “Mew!”

“I’ll fucking kill her!”

Moxie let out a rare hiss, which Percy only glared at as he kicked his way through the ruins to a beloved and broken clock. “Fuck!”

Joe stooped to pick up a canvas, kicked through, but once a Degas. “Um… This… Is this… the real thing?”

Percy managed an almost-smile of reassurance. “No, that’s Lakshmi’s. All the paintings in here are fakes. I keep the—” The habit of lying to Joe, to everyone, caught Percy at the throat. But only for a beat. “All my stolen paintings are in a vault. I only bring them out if I intend to stay for a long stretch. I keep the fakes here for this reason.”

Joe was only half joking when he asked, “Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?”

“No,” Percy replied in all honesty. “People usually know better.”

That alone was enough of a statement, but Althea ran with it, smashing a fist into her palm for emphasis. “I say we track them down and make them regret it. Get to work on them with some of those tools of yours, Percy.”

Percy grinned at Joe, Joe frowned at Althea, and Leo said, “I was here a few days ago. Either she got lucky and came when I was out?—”

“Or she was watching you the whole time.” The ridge of Percy’s back stiffened, then he climbed to his feet, striding across to Leo. “I should never have left you here. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

Leo’s head was pressed to Percy’s chest in a suffocating embrace, through which he mumbled, “I’m okay.”

“What if you weren’t?” Percy pulled back, hands on Leo’s cheeks to look at him, as though he needed the snapshot of a happy, living Leo in his mind. Then he smooshed his face back into his suit jacket.

“It’s secure,” Leo protested, gasping for air. “I set the alarm, I bolted every bolt, there’s no way in here without a key.”

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