The frown on her face tells me she doesn’t understand the importance of what I gave her, but I know by the intensity of her aura I was successful. Her eyes finally open and she squints at the stage and into the crowd. Jolene’s expression is one of suspicion—she cannot see the same things the audience does because of the emergence spell clinging to her like a spider monkey on her back. It’s very powerful and placed by someone at least as old as I am, so I couldn’t nudge its barriers.
Rolling her eyes, she sighs. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”
If only you knew, muharibi aleaziz.?1
“Was it? We shall see.”
She doesn’t even attempt to cover her snort of derision. “If you say so, dude.”
I watch her stomp away thoughtfully before turning to the audience with a broad grin. “Always with the disbelievers! Who will be brave enough to step up and fulfill their destiny next? Raise your hands high and I will select someone.”
Hands go up all over the club and satisfaction washes over me like a cool breeze. Even if mymuharibi aleazizdoesn’t believe in me yet, everyone else here knows what I did for her.
For tonight, that will have to be enough.
My dear warriors
Week Three
Movement on the bed awakens me, and I roll over, my eyes searching for Lucy immediately. “What time is it? Is Magpie home?”
His gentle smile usually calms my nerves without fail, but even when he reaches out and cups my cheek, it doesn’t lessen the anxiety coursing through me. “No, love, she’s not here. Unless they passed out downstairs, which seems unlikely, I just woke up so I haven’t gone down to check yet.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I ask as I fumble for my glasses. “This doesn’t feel right—she’s not the type to not come home without contacting us.”
“Atsomepoint she was, babe. We’ve heard her and Saoirse talk about their wild days in Europe. Maybe it’s like a reunion, and they’re curled up somewhere sleeping off their hangovers.”
I know Lucy is trying to soothe my frayed edges, but something inside of me is pinching and I’d bet it is for Boone as well. My guess is that we’re going to have a rabid hellhound stomping all over magpie’s house soon if we don’t…
“Whereisshe?!”
Huh. I doubt Hugo could have predicted that outcome any better.
Lucy gives me a longing look—he probably had morningplans—and hops up to head for the shower. He’s oddly unconcerned about Edgar walking in as he strolls naked across the bedroom, but it only confirms my suspicions aboutthosetwo. There’s something there and every time I feel the sizzle, it makes me grin. Personally, Ienjoythe thought of a big, polyamorous family bunking down in an Alaskan king.
My people spend far too much time on their own and I’d like to break the cycle.
“Both of you need to calm down or I’ll never be able to focus,” Lucy calls over his tan shoulder. “Too much emotion is making me fritz and we’re too naked for me to get frosty by mistake.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “Focus, Lucy. If you lose control of the icy shit, yourrealmother—not poor Aurelia—will make an appearance. She’s the last thing we need in town at the moment.”
Wolfgang Lucien Fletcher may be a dual hybrid like most of the kids raised in this town, but unlike many of them, he knows at least one of his birth parents. Unfortunately, the one who made her presence known is as trustworthy as a jewel thief in the Tower of London and cuddly as a cactus. She purposely withholds the identity of his real father, despite knowing his adoptive father was killed and his adoptive mother is living in an institution. I wholeheartedly believe the bitch never wanted a child and the father, despite needing to remain anonymous, forced her to have Lucy. Not allowing them to meet is a narcissistic control method she uses to exact her revenge.
But you don’t get to pick your bio parents, and knowing one—no matter how evil she is—is more than most of us in the enclaves get.
My love chuckles as he enters theen suite, and I hear Boone tramping up the stairs like Hadrian’s army.
“Is no onelistening?!”
I head for the closet, tugging on sweats and a tee shirt before he bursts in the door. Whereas I know he’s warming to Lucy, he’s not there yet with me, and it’s probably because I’m not submissive. When I step out of the walk-in, he glares at me as if I’ve offended his ancestors.
“Hamilton, I don’t care what we have to do. I need to know she’s okay!”
“Take a benzo, Boone. Magpie’s a big girl. She can handle herself.” My words are more confident than I feel, but if he’s this volatile, the rest of ushaveto be calmer. Poor Lucy is probably having a bitch of a time keeping his ears in as it is. He’s so sensitive about Jolene, and Edgar’s fear is radiating from him like an emotional dam bursting. My words of reassurance don’t seem to help because he keeps pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.
I’m at a loss because while my gift is healing bodies, his problem is solely an emotional one. That’s much more Lucy’s oeuvre, and until he…
“Guardian. Seer. Is. A. Guardian,” my love says. I have to bite back a chuckle when I realize he’s stark naked, towel drying his hair as he breathlessly runs in.