Canary sitting by the front door. Looking alert and happy. According to Gigi he was on guard duty. If anyone approached the door he’d smell them and let her know.
The kitchen wasn’t large. Gigi advising her relatives tended to eat out a lot. Still, after some rummaging in the freezer she managed to find two microwaveable pasta meals. Better still, there was a full wine rack.
Red wine. Yes please. Okay, the first glass might have gone down a little quickly. Sitting at the small dining room table in the kitchen space Nico forced himself to slow down on the alcohol intake, concentrating on shovelling pasta into his mouth instead. Trying to keep his eyes averted from Gigi, not looking at the way the top she wore clung to those curves, or marvel at the way it made her violet eyes look bottomless and hypnotic. Notlooking. Thinking about why Elijah was taking his sweet time getting back to them.
Not thinking about the fact if they did have to spend the night here there was only that one big ass bed. Hmmm, how far was the sofa from the bed? Could he shift the thing? Would it damage the floors? Absolutely not thinking about how that bed was plenty big enough for two.
“Okay.” Gigi cut into his thoughts. “This brooding silence thing really isn’t working for me.” Pushing her empty plate away and picking up her glass of wine. “I’m going to need you to start sharing.”
“No, I really don’t think you want me to do that.” Nico grabbed the bottle, topping up her glass and then his own.
“Yes. I do. Let me start you off. Finish this sentence: I’m angry because—”
He was sexually frustrated is what he was. Though wasn’t he just using that as a distraction to not think about… “Everything. Every Saint damned thing is pissing me off. And the idea that all of this was fated somehow, that makes me want to spit nails. Bastard Gods and their machinations and whims. We’re nothing but fucking pawns on a chessboard. And to think this is all over a baby. A baby that hasn’t even been born yet. And what the hell do they need her for anyway? Do they plan to sacrifice her? We can’t let that happen.”
Gigi sipped her wine, staying silent.
“And where the fuck do I come into the equation? Trojan horse? Fire touched? What does that even mean? And supposedly these idiots think I’m just going to fetch the baby and happily hand her over?” Nico paused, taking a big gulp of wine. “And you know the worst part of it? That skank Qetesh, trying to turn me into one of her mindless golden puppets. Saint Medard, I can’t seem to shake the feeling of her inside of me, like she was trying to wrestle my soul into a dark windowless box.” AbsentlyNico wiped his lips. “There isn’t enough mouthwash in the world that’s going to get rid of the taste of her.”
A wry smile tilted the edges of Gigi’s lips upwards. “You really are having a sucky month, aren’t you?”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
Taking a sip of wine, Gigi shrugged. “We obtained a lot of useful intel today. We don’t understand exactly what a lot of it means yet. But Elijah and Patricia will get us some answers. Though we do know who the primary target is, baby Sunny. Now we know that, we can start to plan, prepare and fortify.”
“You’re right. I just hate being manipulated. First Kristiah, now Qetesh. She needs to die, that’s the only way I’ll be completely free of her.” Nico tossed back some more wine and laughed. “It’s starting to become a thing, me having to kill the women in my life.”
“As your current faux girlfriend, I’m hoping I get special dispensation.”
“Granted. Though if I turn full on golden from head to toe, you have to promise me you’ll run, and not look back. I won’t be me. And I’m not sure I could go on living, knowing I’d hurt you.” Bloody Hell, he rubbed his lips again, he couldn’t get rid of the taste of Qetesh, blindly reaching for the glass of red again, even though it wasn’t helping, except Gigi grabbed his hand instead, squeezing it, holding it in place.
“Nico. Just take a breath. It’s been, hah, I was going to say a rough day, but you’ve been in this game, admittedly unknowingly, for over a decade. Yes, the deities are manipulative blinkered beings. But tell me, what’s the point of railing at them? Getting angry? The only thing we can do is try and determine their game and beat them at it. Be faster, smarter, meaner than they are.”
Nico took Gigi’s advice, sucking in a deep breath, clutching her hand, squeezing it gently. “Qetesh almost had me today. Onemoment her lips are on mine and the next I’m walking down this glittering tunnel. There’s a soft golden light at the very end, and her voice is in my head, telling me that everything will be fine, easy, if I just keep walking. Promising me that all I ever wanted, dreamt of, was waiting for me there.”
“You didn’t give in. You’re still you.”
“I might have dragged my feet, but we both know Qetesh has her claws in me dangerously deeper. I just can’t…” Nico wiped his lips with the back of his free hand again. “… seem to shake the taste of her.” Disappointment sweeping through him as Gigi released her hold on him. Fuck, he’d driven her away, just goes to show talking, sharing your inner thoughts, was never a good idea.
But instead of walking away she closed the distance between them, pushing the table off to the side, settling herself on Nico’s lap, facing him. Okay, maybe there was something to all this exchanging of dialogue and feelings that he’d been overlooking in the past. Watching her warily as she settled her hands on his shoulders. Saint Medard, she smelled amazing, and the warmth and weight of her fired Nico’s cock and at the same time, some inner tension relaxed. Settled. His heart rate slowing, matching the soothing pulsing beat he’d come to associate when he was in Gigi’s presence.
“What are you doing?”
Gigi was wondering the exact same thing. What the hell was she doing? Except, it felt so natural, so right. Staring into those toffee amber orbs of his she couldn’t help but smile. A woman sits on his lap, and still Nico was the picture of restraint. His hands clenched into fists by his sides. Taking no liberties. Taking nothing for granted about this situation. The man’s trust issues came with a deed to a ten storey storage facility.
She’d have to go slowly. The man was skittish by nature and shaken after his lip lock bout with Qetesh today. The idiotwas angry at himself, feeling he’d somehow failed. An okay, their safe zone had shrunk significantly, but Nico Yanez was still himself; grumpy, suspicious, determined to shoulder all the responsibility and blame for every darn little thing going on. Today, back there on the atoll, and when they’d been transported to Qetesh’s lair, he’d made sure he was always the larger target. He was an innate if reluctant hero and it seems, given his reaction to her sitting herself on his lap, a gentleman.
“I thought we’d try a little experiment.”
“Experiment?”
“Well, to be more specific, a practical experiment. You can’t seem to shake the memory of Qetesh’s lip lock and I thought I might be able to help with that.”
“I’m not eating anything the bunny regurgitates, not willingly anyway. I appreciate the mouthwash wake up call, but I just don’t think I can go there without a knife to my throat.”
“You’re such a drama king, no wonder you fit in so well with my family. The Great-Greats are thinking of reopening the theatre and staging a few plays. You should volunteer your services.”
“Gigi.”
