Page 37 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

I sigh, closing my eyes to find sleep and rest for the next day.

Who knows what’s coming then?

The Blogger Begins To Plot

WILDE

I’ve seen my Darkness much less than usual in recent weeks. She is quite consumed with the antics of our erstwhile family and the addition of Mr. Taurus to her life.

While I understand how this has occurred, the lack of time with my Darkness has been preying on my mind. My Royalty has practically shuttered himself in a locked room. He responds to no one’s queries, not even my beloved’s.

He is well and truly in mourning, I fear.

I am not well myself, but I do not believe that hiding will resolve my sadness at the betrayal of our mates. We cannot wither away because they have chosen a path that they must travel alone. My beloved runs at night with Lady Calista and Lady Veruca; I believe it helps her bring her pain to the surface so that she may work through her own grief.

She is sitting in our living room conversing with Mr. Taurus. He has been stopping by occasionally in his effort to offer an olive branch. I know my beloved has long wished to mend our relationship with him and his mistress, Talia. I am glad that my Darkness’ affiliation with him has brought this boon to our home, but I worry about when the worm will turn, as they say.

“I think Rhea expects some guy to walk into her other world work, and sweep her off her feet like in a romance novel. Wilde could do that here, but she’s got this yen to be a bad girl because it’s cool. She’s using that to force people to punish her, and it’s sick in the head. Wilde and I have been talking about unbinding ceremonies. I heard that’s not such a good plan, but hell, what could be worse than now?”

I wish she had not shared that with him, but alas.

“It’s true they exist. I’ve never heard of an attempt not ending in disaster. The people involved end up being messed up so severely they’re never the same. Talia says they have had to…uh…deactivate Company clones that lost their mates. It’s not a good thing when they think you’re too crazy to go on death wish missions.”

I sigh. I am not so sure about these ceremonies, and I have expressed this to my beloved. “Sir, I believe that my beloved is overstating our interest. We discussed the possibility of such, but have made no permanent decisions. I feel it might be best to work through our grief in other ways.”

We have quite a few options for working out our issues, and my beloved knows that. She has her coyote runs and if I can get them to make the time, there is much to be said for working out frustrations in a more physical way with our mates. I find it gratifying—as does my demon—to work things out in that fashion. He has made my emotions imminently easier to master through these methods.

“Wilde, I agree with you. That’s why the Company teaches the recruits not to mate until they know without a doubt that it is forever—because it is. Marriage is one thing, but it seems like people here jumped into a boat that they didn’t know where it was headed. I know my Minx and her primary feel that way.”

My teacup clatters and I close my eyes, feeling the demon rage inside at his audacity. Mentioning his relationship with herin my home is the height of rudeness. Howdarehe? Blinking, I pause, unsure where that feeling came from.

I have always shared my mates—including my beloved— with other lovers and family. It has never caused a feeling like that to swell inside of me like a tidal wave of hate. I did feel some irritation with Alistair. His name sizzles in my mind as not only a troubled former mate, but the one who encroached upon the strength of the relationship I had with my Darkness and my Royalty. That problem began in the late winter when the specter of my demon rose and finally gave voice to my anger and resentment.

Feeling the anger swell again, I work to quell it, not wishing to be a poor host. The need to demarcate what is acceptable behavior regarding what my demon believes is his right is strong. I fight it handily, but he is a powerful presence in my mind now. Perhaps it is a reaction to the visceral nature of Mr. Taurus’ disposition.

“My Darkness knows her heart well and chooses her mate with the utmost care. The crux of the problem lies with the disingenuous nature of our former family members.”

I don’t say their names because I am finding it genuinely distasteful to do so—more so by the day.

Taurus arches a brow, looking from my beloved to me, and then back. “What do you think, shrimp? Do you think he’s right? No one jumped the gun on all this mating willy-nilly as a family unit?”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Honey, I’ve known Rhea for years, much like you and Talia. I knew she had some darkness in her past that made her needy. But I didn’t know that she was a co-dependent, self-hating narcissist. How could Deli have known? Besides, the kitty’s done well with her other mates: Victor, Rafe, Wilde, me… She only missed the boat on those two.”

I nod in agreement. “Quite. I think she has excellent taste.”

Evil pumps through me when he blanches. Perhaps he has not heard the length of my Darkness’ pedigree? I do not judge her for her active social life and never have, but he and his mate are adamant about their selectiveness. A little reminder that he is not the first to win her heart isn’t out of line.

It might help keep a respectful distance, in fact.

“Wilde and I are excellent mates. Victor would step in front of a bus for Miss Kitty, and Rafe’s sequestered now, but he’d lay open a vein any day of the week. We all got hoodwinked by the broken toys, buddy. You don’t have to worry your perfect hairdo. She’s got a legion of clones and droids that she’s not mated to pounding her door down to take their place.”

The tension in our houseguest is palpable, but he nods in response to my beloved’s statement. “The minx can take care of herself. She’s a force all on her own.”

Pfft.

As if he would know her strengths better than her long-mated family. His arrogance is unmatched, though that fact has never been in dispute. “Darkness is well equipped to fend for herself; however, she needs not. Her family is quite devoted.”

His lips curl up and I dislike his expression. It is as if he knows something we do not. “Well, mate, you’re right about that.” Sitting his glass down, he sighs. “Now, it’s been a bloody lovely chat and all, but I have a mate that’s calling me. She’s not one to be ignored for long. Mind if we cut this short?”

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