“You did good.” I don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, I lean over and land a gentle kiss to the top of herhead.
A light knock comes over the door. “Logan, is that you?” Emma calls from the otherside.
“It’s me.” I try to sound casual, not at all as if I’m in bed with my nephew’swife.
The door swings open, and Emma leans in with a smile that quickly fades to ascowl.
“Oh, for shit’s sake.” She steps back out and shuts the door with a slam. In all my life, I think that’s the one expletive she’s ever spoken in my presence, at least toward me—or more to the point, toward the woman lying in bed with me wrapped lovingly in my arms the way I thought it would be from the beginning. The way fate decided that it wouldn’t be, at leastnotin the beginning, and everything about that sad scenario breaks myheart.
Skyla jolts to attention and gives a sleepy-eyed glance around. “Oops! Wrong house.” A sheepish giggle strums from her. “I’ll tryagain.”
“No, it’s fine.” I try to assure her, but the words come out too late, leaving my voice behind in a room that our bodies have alreadyvacated.
Another room forms around us—dark paneling, darker furniture, a ridiculous amount of Victorian décor, and this time we’re not alone on the oversized mattress. Lying down with nothing but a sheet precariously covering home plate, Marshall Dudley relaxes on his elbows with the remote in hand while some psychotic screams her head off on the IMAX-sized television blaring in front of us, and he’s quick to muteit.
“I didn’t realize I should have prepared for guests.” He offers a bored glance my way as if I were nothing more significant than a gnat in his presence, but his fingers find their way into Skyla’s hair as if they belonged there. “My love—you’ve finally come to yoursenses.”
A deep-welled groan evicts from her simply from his touch, and she does her best to burrow into his mattress before offering a groggy lookaround.
“Am I dreaming?” She looks from him to me. “Oh no.” She buries her face into the pillow for a moment before coming up for air and locking those red, tired eyes my way. “Is this going to turn into one of those flesh-fests where you suck my nipples?” She turns to Dudley. “And you lickmy—”
“All right.” I pull Skyla toward me before she initiates anything she might regret. “You’re tired. Get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll get you home.” Her eyes seal shut before I canfinish.
I glare over at the wily Sector who’s trying to hide his boner under that sheet snaking around his body. “Party’s over, sweetheart. Get dressed. We’re going downstairs. There are a few things we need todiscuss.”
His fingers dance over Skyla’s bare arm, and she takes in a soothing breath as if she hasn’t felt that level of comfort inyears.
“I’ll meet you down there,” he grumbles, his sexed-up gaze is still very much fixed on the sleeping beauty betweenus.
“I’m not leaving.” I lean back and focus in on the screen. I’m not interested in inspecting his junk. I’m interested in protecting Skyla from it. My body melts into the butter soft sheets, the mattress that seems to be made from angel feathers. Damn, this bed iscomfortable.
“Very well.” Dudley rises, suddenly fully clothed in a suit minus the jacket. His fingers work over the buttons around his wrists as if he actually put in the effort rather than materialized the clothing onto his body. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” His body evaporates quicker than the fog, and just like that, he’sgone.
Skyla nestles against me, and my urge to vacate the premises goes out the door right along with Dudley. I lean over and brush my lips against the soft velvet of hercheek.
“Sleep tight, princess.” I press in another quick peck, and this time I savor thefeel.
* * *
Downstairs,Dudley’s home is still festooned with Christmas décor, an impeccable Victorian motif that Lexy mentioned she helped him with. His tree is lit in the living room with thousands of tiny white lights, and a large raging fire fills the room with a homey glow, but believe me, there is not a single homey thing about this mausoleum. It’s stale, as welcoming as a museum, a morgue for thatmatter.
“What have you been up to these days, young Oliver?” Dudley takes a seat on the couch and kicks his Italian leather shoes up onto the coffee table. He flicks on the television right back to that raging, talking head he was glued to upstairs. FNX News. It’s the same station that’s kept Barron and Emma riveted for years. “Are you keeping up with the humor these days?” He raises the volume on the one-eyed monster, and a panel of angry men and women rage about the recent clown sightings that have half the country in a state ofpanic.
“It’s just Wes up to his old games. I don’t need a road map to draw thatconclusion.”
“That it is. But the Videns aren’t doing this for Wesley. Aren’t you in the least bit interested as to who exactly has taken an interest in joining forces with him?” He mutes the cacophony of sound once again, and the fire crackles, soothing the room with its flickeringrhythm.
“Fems.” I close my eyes a moment. “So itbegins.”
“Not yet.” Dudley tosses the remote onto the table and misses by a mile, but that remote floats right back into the air and lands softly on the marbled top table as if Dudley scored the first time. Only on rare occasions have I seen Dudley do anything so blatantly unhuman around me. Not that there is anything remotely human about Dudley. He’s the only created being outside of Demetri that I know of roaming this planet. “They’re waiting for theirleader.”
“Gage doesn’t take the position until he’s good and dead,” I say the words lower than a whisper, because let’s face it, there is nothing good about Gage’s impending death. “And I plan on keeping him around for a long time tocome.”
“I’m afraid his father doesn’t share your sentiment. In fact, he’s worth more to him without his heart pumping away in that useless body. He’s procured his heirs—heralded one magnificent commitment from his favorite offspring. That was some covenant ceremony. Skyla was quite pleased to witness theevent.”
“You wish. She’s still pissed ashell.”
“She shouldbe.”
