Page 366 of Lodestar

“I was in and out of London,” I argued. “There wasn’t time to meet with you first.”

“You make time, Star. You know I don’t like being kept out of the loop. See what happens when you do—Ovianar is dead. If I’d known?—”

“If you’d known, there was dick you could do. She could have contacted you but she didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because she thought her involvement with Jorgmundgander was unknown to my cousins and me.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand as his gaze trickled over me. “You’re attending the funeral? I’m not sure Minerva invited you.”

“She didn’t, but I’m showing up anyway.”

A gleam appeared in his eye that had Conor settling a possessive hand around my waist. “Crashing a funeral,” he tutted.

“I aim low,” was my bitter reply. “Is there a reason you’re here, Tryn? Just to piss around your hotel like a dog marking his territory or…”

“I was curious when you didn’t arrange to speak with me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to. I’m literally just here for a funeral.”

“You’re never ‘just’ anything.” His gaze flickered between Conor and me and because he was a Bowen, I knew that he didn’t miss a damn thing. Something he confirmed when his focus drifted to my hips where I’d planted my left hand. “You’re getting into bed with the Five Points?”

“She’s alreadyinthe bed,” Conor growled, which made me shoot him a perplexed glance. “And she’s going nowhere.”

Bowen clucked his tongue. “Star’s a viper. I hope you have plenty of antivenom on hand for when she strikes.”

“I’ve built up an immunity over the years,” Conor drawled.

“Interesting.” He tilted his head to the side. “We can ride down together.”

It wasn’t a request.

I glanced warily at Conor whose mouth was a taut line, but he graced me with the slightest of nods.

“Sounds good,” I answered.

When the doors to the elevator closed behind us, Bowen asked, “When do you leave?”

“You want to get rid of me already?” I mocked.

“Where you go, trouble follows,” he retorted, wrapping both hands against the rail at the back of the elevator. Body language alone told me he was in full-on ‘I own London’ mode.

Rolling my eyes at him, I mused, “And trouble leaves London alone when I’m out of the city?”

“For the most part.” He pursed his lips as the elevator stopped on the first floor. “I want to speak with you before you leave. I’ll leave the details at the reception desk.”

I scowled. “We’re flying out tomorrow.”

“Is that the truth I hear?”

“It is. We’re leaving in the early hours.”

“Then we can speak this evening.” He dipped his chin at me then Conor. “Until later.”

When he left, Conor demanded, “Did you have a relationship with him?”

My brows lifted. “No.”

“He wants you.”

I snorted. “Is this you being jealous? If it is, it’s cute.”

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