Page 99 of Dagger

Atlas took a swig of his beer and turned toward the group to add his opinion. “Can’t believe Daemon’s spent ninety percent of the season over in Harrenhal, having dreams about fuckin his mom.”

John’s eyes widened. “What shit do you idiots watch?”

I bit back my laugh because I knew. Every Monday evening, I sat down to watch the show.

Kennedy waved a nonchalant hand. “It’s a Targaryen thing. They’re dragon riders, and they need to keep their bloodline pure so they don’t lose the ability to bond with their dragons. It’s why they make their sons and daughters marry each other.”

Kai, who had ambled over a few minutes earlier to see what was going on, looked at Kady and grimaced.

John lifted his beer bottle to his mouth and tipped it, before lowering it again and smacking his lips together. “Sounds like a fuckin’ shit show if you ask me. They’ll all end up with webbed toes and hairy palms.”

Breaker roared.

Cash let out a snort.

“It’s why they’re all loop the fuckin’ loop,” Atlas interjected, holding his finger to the side of his temple and twirling it. “Crazy ass Targaryens, ridin’ dragons and burnin’ the smallfolk up. They need their damned heads seein’ to.”

John jerked a decisive nod. “Sounds like a recipe for disaster, if you ask me.”

“At least they’re starting to discover that you don’t have to be a trueborn Targaryen to bond with a dragon,” I stated. “Even if you’re half Targaryen, you can still ride, though we knew it anyway, seeing as Daenerys’s mother was a Martell, and Dany had three dragons.”

“I worry ‘bout you lot watchin’ that shit,” John muttered.

My eyebrows pulled together. “Why?”

“You’ve been through enough trauma. You don’t need to watch all that killing and gore.”

“It’s a fantasy show, John,” I exclaimed. “Do you think watching dragons breathe fire and sword fights are going to trigger me? Jesus, it wasn’t like Robert used to come home for dinner wearing armor and wielding a Valyrian steel sword.”

Kennedy busted out laughing.

Atlas’s lips thinned.

“A what?” John questioned, tone confused.

I sighed. “Never mind.”

“It’s good when they have battles, Prez,” Atlas insisted. “It’s old school. All arrows, swords, and dragon fire. Very entertainin’, if I say so myself. You just gotta get through the tits and incest, but I don’t mind takin’ one for the team.” He winked.

“Dirty bastard,” John sneered.

“None of you were interested in it until I told you about it.” Kit pulled Kennedy closer and slid his arms across her shoulders. “We can’t have anything for ourselves, can we, Kitten?”

She smirked. “I wouldn’t mind, but half of it goes over their heads, like Daemon’s dreams, for example. His mother died when he was young, so he didn’t actually sleep with her. Doing that in his dream was an indication of how her passing left himwith mommy issues and of the void he felt without having a mother when he was growing up.”

Kit’s eyes went lazy and half-mast. “You know I love it when you talk psychology.” He tilted her backward, holding her steady with his arm, and laid a hot, wet kiss on her mouth.

“Can you two get a fuckin’ room,” John demanded. “There’s kids about”

“Shame you don’t consider that when you’re saying ‘fuck’ twenty times in one sentence,” I bandied back.

John grinned at me. “They know the difference between me saying it and them, Duchess.”

“Wish you’d tell Sunny that,” Bowie muttered. “Gotta call from the school before the summer break. She called Carl Tucker’s boy an asshole.”

John’s lips twitched. “My little Sunshine’s not far wrong. He is a little asshole.”

“John!” I cried, slapping his stomach.

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