Page 8 of God Touched

Bayn looked about to stop her, but Freya put her arms around his shoulders, silencing him. "Get some sleep, Gen. We can talk tomorrow," she said.

"Yeah, no doubt," Imogen replied and went to find where her gear had been placed.

Bayn's castle was made of ice, but it was still warm inside, and Imogen was drowsy by the time she found her guest room. She dragged off her sandy clothes and trudged into the bathroom.

She was so tired, and her ass ached from being on the back of the bike for so long. What wasn't hurting was all the bruises she should have had from the fight on the beach.

Weird.She checked her back in the mirror, and there wasn't even a scrape from when she hit the beach. There was blood in her hair, but she couldn't find a cut.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered. Arawan must have healed her when she had been knocked out. What was his problem?

Imogen took a long shower, stretched her cramped muscles out as best as possible, and climbed into bed naked. She hated pajamas when she slept, and unlike her nosey sisters, Bayn and Freya would never barge in without knocking.

Staring up at the dark blue ceiling in her room, Imogen wondered what Arawan was up to. Was he bored in that castle? Would he hate how the human world had changed? Why had he let her go again…and why had he offered to let her stay?

"Maybe he's lonely," she said aloud. She understood loneliness.

Imogen was a professional at looking like she was the life of the party when in reality, she was just alone around people.

She couldn't tell anyone how much she still thought about the day she died and how good it felt once she stopped struggling against the current.

How she had been chasing that high ever since. How could she say that to anyone and not have them think she was totally mental?

Arawan might get it.

Imogen pulled a pillow over her head. It would be better for her mental health if she stayed far away from the God of the dead. He was in Wales, and if she was very careful, she would never have to hear his raspy voice ever again.

* * *

Imogen woke to banging on her door. She sat up, adrenaline coursing through her.

"Gen! Get some clothes on quickly! I need you," Freya said through the door.

"Yeah. Yup. I'm awake," she called back.

Imogen dressed in some clean jeans and an off-the-shoulder Nine Inch Nails shirt. Did she need shoes? Probably not. She washed her face, gargled some mouth wash, and ran her hands through her curly lavender hair. Whatever Freya needed couldn't have been an attack or anything, or she would've told her to bring her ax.

Not like anyone would be dumb enough to attack Bayn in the middle of winter.

God, it better be worth her getting out of bed.

Imogen hurried down the stairs, still yawning. "Bitch, you better have coffee going!" she called.

She reached the main entranceway of the castle and almost fell down the rest of the stairs. Arawan and a group of his warriors stared up at her.

He was dressed impeccably in a black-on-black suit with a few too many buttons undone and had a hand resting on the top of a black cane.

Big black eyes looked from her bare feet up to her mussed hair. "Good morning, darling."

"Nope, not today, Satan." Imogen turned around and almost collided with Freya.

"You are not going anywhere," she hissed, blocking her path. "Bayn needs to go and get Kian and Killian, and youwillkeep him distracted until Bayn is back."

"For fuck's sake," Imogen growled. She walked further down the steps and gave Arawan her fakest smile ever. "And to what do we owe the honor of this visit, your godliness? You missed me so bad already, huh?"

Arawan's lips twitched. "Not exactly, mortal. I thought about what you said, and I have come to talk to the princes as you suggested."

"That's me. Full of good ideas," Imogen replied.

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