Page 70 of Nest Of Lies

Lia’s expression deflates. “I can’t keep him.”

“Why not?”

Lia’s expression gets guarded. “I can’t have animals. My mother doesn’t approve.”

I hesitate because there has always been something off and strange about China Raines, other than the fact that she hates us with a passion. I don’t think she’s ever even looked at us with an expression less than ‘I loathe you’.

The only one of us she’s mildly okay with is Ranger, and she openly insults him.

“We’ll sort something out,” I say softly. “How about we go find Valen and send him to intimidate the pet shops?”

Lia’s smile quirks up, and then she hides her face in the kitten’s fur. I love this woman. The thought stuns me, even though I think it’s been true forever. “If you love animals so much, why don’t you do something with them?”

“Like work?”

“Yes, like work,” I tease. “You could do anything you wanted, Lia. You’re so smart.”

She blinks several times. “You think so?”

“I know so. If you wanted to do this, there are courses-”

Her expression drops. “I can’t do that.”

I frown, waiting for her to elaborate.

“My mother wouldn’t approve and-” She bites her words off, her cheeks turning red.

China Raines controls Lia’s income. The surge of dislike borders very closely to hate. And the more I learn about China Raines, the closer I’m getting to doing something that’s going to make her regret her actions.

“We could help you, if you like.”

For a moment, I think she will take me up on it. Her expression is so hungry, but then she shakes her head.

“I can’t.”

So much regret. I make a mental note of it.

“Why aren’t you in music?”

Lia cracks up, laughing. “Me? Oh, hell no. I can’t sing, I can’t carry a note or a tune or even make sense of which end of the guitar is up and which is down. Oh, no, there isn’t any music in me at all. I am the eternal disappointment.” The last two sentences are full of bitter resignation.

I wonder how that would have been growing up, not being able to make music in the home of three of our times most celebrated musicians. Then having Locke and Ryn, who are so musically inclined. Does she compare herself to them? Does she wish she was like them? She must have been so lonely.

“Well, just so you know. We do have a musician in our pack.”

She gives me a wide-eyedlook.

I nod very seriously. “Sadly, Ianto sings like a dying cat, no offense, kitty! His vocals are hideous, and he knows it, but he insists on destroying the ears of all the rest of us. I’ve been told art is subjective.”

Lia laughs and leans into my side.

“Thanks, Mills.”

“My pleasure, Lia.” With her pressed up against me, everything is perfect. I love you, my Lia.

Chapter twenty-five

Ianto

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