Page 40 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

For all his varied skills and flaws, he’s the more emotional, more impulsive of the two of us. He’s a flashover where I’m a slow burn and his emotions consume his entire being when he’s in primal mode.

I’m sitting on the porch, watching our new neighbors move in. Since Taurus’ last tantrum—the one where he ate one of the human employees from the Cabal Quarter—a few weeks ago, the house down the lane has been empty. That move normally would have earned him a month of fighting and a few well-placed bruises in the sparring ring—except that he’s been so wrapped up in Deli. He was too happy for me to poke holes in him even if I did spend three days on the paperwork detailing the incident.

I’m a real romantic at heart, let me tell you.

Baby is spinning like rapid fire in my right-hand—a sure sign of my agitation over the bird’s mental block. I won’t send Damien and Theodora after him yet. I’m going to wait to see what asinine dilemma he’s gone off half-cocked and gotten himself into first.

But I worry.

He’s far more mercurial than I’ve ever seen him since he met the wonder kitty. I’m concerned that as high as his highs are right now—annoyingly so, let me tell you—his lows might be just as low. That’s not so bad for a normal person, but for a trained killer with a whole wide world full of people to wreak havoc on?

It’s a concern. We’ll leave it at that.

The Company has rules. It deals with its own rogue agents, even freelancers like Taurus. He often pushes those boundaries, but he’s so fucking good at what he does that they usually let him off with a punishment that will irritate him more than anything. It’s how he got stuck teaching knitting to newbies more than once. Our boss is pretty damn good at making certain Taurus knows how pissed he is without losing his temper and letting out his infamous dark side.

I can only protect him so much before their sense of justice kicks in. They ‘de-activate’ agents when they are deemed a danger to the secrecy of the Company and its initiatives. Their credo is to complete the mission, do it right, and keep us far from the fallout. Clones that draw attention to the existence of the Company, the Rift, or its myriad secret technologies and holdings get de-activated without question.

I hope that he’s not out guaranteeing that my Monday will suck. Mikhail’s patience only stretches so far. While Taurus is the best damned agent they have, the clone that runs the agents’ hand can be forced by Oversight.

Hell, I could have to go before a panel for letting him off the chain. I’ll kill him myself. Those fucking meetings are the worstpart of my job, and I sure as hell don’t want to be the subject of one. Every single time some asshat suggests they ‘re-educate’ Taurus because he’s too old school and I tell them they really want him on their side, not as an enemy. That’s true… he’s far more vicious than the newer breeds of agents and so much more intelligent.

Sighing, I look out into the night.

What in the hell caused this?

All I can do now is hope that his new mate can get him under control because I’m completely in the dark.

The Bird Flies Home

TAURUS

Ilimp into our garden covered in blood and aching. She wasn’t in the house, so I can only assume she hasn’t moved since she left the sodding note.

It was an apology and a laundry list of every damn person in the Rift she’s ever been with—something I neither wanted nor needed, but I’ll never be able to forget.

Scanning the darkness, I look for a sign that she’s still here. Moonlight shines off the water in the lush oasis that I had put in so we could enjoy the pleasant weather as the seasons turn. I wouldn’t blame her if she went inside because I didn’t leave any indication of when or if I’d be back. “Deli?”

I find her sitting on a big lounger in the middle of a lush garden. She must have done some mojo to grow this since our dips yesterday morning. I’m still a bit floored by the real magick thing, but I can’t focus on that at the moment.

Stopping at the foot of her chair, I see her look up from the folds of the big blanket she’s completely wrapped up in. She doesn’t meet my eyes and her silence is deafening as she sits perfectly still. I sigh heavily, crossing to stand beside her seat. I’m not used to her being dead silent. It’s unnerving. But I forgeahead anyway, needing to say my piece before the conversation flips to whatever excuses she’s going to make for her behavior.

“I want to make something clear before this goes any further,” I say, holding my hand up. “I don’t care if you’ve slept with the whole bloody Navy; you didn’t need to list your partners for me. I appreciate the thought, but it wasn’t necessary.”

Her eyes move to the ground, but nothing else moves, so I continue. “To me, mating is a different story. I’m a clone with an exceptionally long history of only one mate, so for me, mating is sacrosanct. Who you’ve mated with isn’t my problem—I want to stress that.”

Again, she stays quiet and still. I sigh again and push on. “That said, I should probably apologize to Wilde and Sari. As I was dismembering my thirtieth victim, it occurred to me that the way I acted earlier combined with our past made it appear that I went ballistic because of her. I didn’t.”

This time, she nods, but still doesn’t speak. I don’t know if she knows or cares that I abruptly darted out of the meeting with them, but I feel honor bound to tell her. My rude escape may cause her problems later and she deserves to know that may be coming.

“I’m bound by my sense of integrity to clear the air with them personally.” She nods again and though I feel a sense of worry creeping in, I continue. “After the issues with the whacked out blonde bint, my emotions have been close to the surface. Even the littlest thing sets me off. I imagine you feel something similar.”

Another nod.

Christ, it’s like someone cut out her bloody tongue.

“That being said, I want you to know how I feel about earlier. Then, depending on how that goes, we can discuss logistics. When we discussed your mates, and you mentioned Victor’s claim rounded out the last of them. Your taste has imminentlyimproved, but when I heard twice in an hour that what we discussed wasn’t accurate, it finally sunk in. I felt like I was run over by a tank.”

Big red eyes from over the lip of the blanket. Another nod. Nothing else.

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