Page 73 of Caged By the Ruthless Thief

“It’s nothing.”

“It could be an ugly seashell, the lint from your washing; hell, it could be the lint from your belly button. It doesn’t matter. They make her hold out hope. You’re going to be king. If you want the votes of Tinom, Vitrom, and Stele, you can’t be in a pod with a human, a criminal and whatever it is I am now.” He doesn’t bring up Holter being ageminae. Because, really, there is no one better than Holter.

I nod. He’s right. It’s not fair. “This will be the last one, I promise.”

“Last what?” Annabelle says, appearing from the hallway. She pops a small pastry into her mouth.

“Here.” I hand it to her. Whatever I was thinking, I don’t know. My pulse throbs in my neck.

She unties the simple cloth and looks at me. Normally, I don’t wrap the things I give her. I guess I knew this would be the last one too.

“It’s a nice wooden box.” She moves to the sofa and places it on the table and kneels on the floor next to it.

I move across the room with her and sit on the sofa. I want her to have this, and if Nico tries to take it away from her, I’m ready to grab it and let her have it, anyway. It’s not fully functional. I’ve throttled it. But if she’s one of us, she’s one of us. Kai has mentioned more than once that she wishes she could contact Annabelle.

She peels back the final paper sheet. “Oh, fudge. You got me a block.” She jumps up, holding the thing to her chest. “You got me a block.”

I lick my lips. “Yes. It’s not a full one, but I added a special function.” I’m not looking at Nico or Holter. Because if they weren’t mad before, they’re going to be mad now. “I added a connection to the human internet, along with everything that was on your old phone.”

Annabelle launches herself at me, and my back hits the back of the sofa. One arm wraps around my neck, and she kisses my cheek. The block is tight in her other hand, sandwiched between the two of us.

Nico stands. His normally calm demeanor is gone. Even Holter is glaring at me.

“What’s going on?” Eros is back, now showered and dressed. “Oh good, Sunshine, you ate something. Wait. What else happened? Why do you look like you’re going to go all Nico, Holter? And Nico, why do you looklike ... yourself? Never mind. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that Castor has overstepped his bounds,” Nico grunts. He has the block in his hand. Annabelle looks between Nico’s face and the block.

Annabelle steps away from me. “Thank you, Castor.” But she doesn’t reach for the block from Nico.

“You’re welcome.” I smile but then look at Nico and Holter. I nod, seeing I’m not welcome here. “But I suppose I should be going.”

“Yes. I’ll walk you out,” Nico growls at me, the block still firmly in his hand.

“Nico, Castor was just trying to be nice,” says Annabelle. “Giving gifts is his love language.”

“Love language? You mean one of the Romance languages, like French?” Holter asks.

“No, I mean love language. It’s how he shows you he cares.”

“He needs to care less.” Nico puts his hand on my shoulder. To the casual observer, it’s resting there. But his forefingers are squeezing to the edge of pain.

“Nico, stop.” Annabelle goes up onto her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Castor.” She holds her hands behind her back like she’s restraining herself, and I understand perfectly. She’s a mermaid, clearly going through hormone changes.

“Walk, Drakos.” Nico stresses my last name. I don’t wait for him to yank me out, but he stops me just outside the door. “You made your choice. It’s the fucking right choice. Now give us some space to figure all this out.”

I nod but then hold up my finger. “How’s Eros?”

“He’s a blubber fish, but he makes her laugh. There’s a light glowing from her when he’s around. It’s infuriating.”

“How did she get back here?” Even now that she’s safe with her mates, I haven’t called off the security firm I hired. If they can find something on their end, I want to know exactly what happened. I might have to let Annabelle go, but I’m not letting what happened to her go.

He shakes his head, and for a minute I think he’s not going to tell me, that he’s going to retract back into his Nico-ness and keep the info from me. “Back here,” he repeats like he’s answering my question. Which he is not.

“Nico.”

“Castor.” He leans against the wall next to his door.

“What did she tell you about how she got back?”

---