“Tessa? You’d better pick up. I couldn’t stop thinking about you today, and I have a bad feeling trouble’s just around the corner.”
I let out a string of F-bombs and stared at my phone, dreading this call. But when the clairvoyant in the family had a bad feeling, worse would surely follow.
I called him back. “Lay it on me, Tom,” I grumbled with feeling. “But be gentle. I’ve had a long day.”
“Sorry, Sis, but it’s about to get longer.”
Chapter 4
Marcus
I groaned as the sun hit me right between the eyes. I’d been hoping to sleep in this morning, having worked another late night into the early a.m.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” a wry voice chided. “I even brought you a cup of coffee.”
“That’s the only thing saving your annoying ass,” I muttered as I opened my eyes. I sat up and grabbed the coffee from my brother with a few choice words.
“Touchy.” Cadmus grinned, his identical features buoyant in stern contrast to my scowl. “Just wanted to check on you. Aerolus and I are concerned about the long hours you’ve been putting in at work.” He took a sip of his own coffee and frowned. “What’s so important at your play job that you’ve twice missed Aerolus’ meetings?”
“Aerolus’ meetings? He dabbles in sorcery, and now he thinks he’s in charge?”
“Well, why shouldn’t he be in charge? What is it with you and Darius, anyway?” Cadmus scowled, mentioning our absent and newly married brother. “He thinks he should be in charge because he’s the oldest, and now that he’s gone, you’re following the same script. Need I remind you we’re identical quadruplets?” His burning brown eyes darkened with irritation.
I cocked a brow, further aggravating my brother, as intended. As Cadmus glowered, I felt the morning’s misery fade under grudging amusement.
“Quadruplets, yes,” I agreed. “But not quite identical. Those muddy eyes of yours won’t guarantee you a quality affai.”
Cadmus snorted. “By ‘quality affai’ you mean ‘wealthy bride.’ You’re such a snob, Marc.” He smirked at the face I made.
I loathed the informal, shortened use of my given name. And I had Darius’ wife to thank for that. A lovely woman, but as annoying as my brother. They were made for each other.
Cadmus continued, “But you’re wrong about, and I quote, my ‘gorgeous, rich, chocolate-brown eyes.’ Working at the bar has put me in contact with hundreds of women dying for a piece of me.”
“All too drunk to know their left from their right.”
“Some, yeah, but not all.” Cadmus paused, and I had the odd suspicion he was focused on a specific woman.
Then a sudden image of Tessa Sheridan flashed through my mind, blurring all thoughts of teasing.
“Women are nothing but trouble.” I purposefully steeled my reaction to the fiery redhead. “It’s because of them we’re still here. If Arim would allow us to return home without brides, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Instead, we’d be sending the Netharat back into hell where they belong.”
“Until Sin Garu eventually showed.” Cadmus snorted. “Then we’d be fighting a losing battle. Until we reestablish the royal line, we’re glued to this world, brother mine.”
I scowled, hating the reminder that without an affai, I was stuck in this mundane realm. More and more lately I’d been itching to revisit Tanselm. Since Darius had returned home, my longing for all we’d left behind had only increased. And my frustrating bouts with Tessa furthered my aggravation. It was as if I needed something just out of reach.
“So quiet.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t tell me. It’s a woman.” Cadmus studied me with eerie perception. “I may not have Darius’ telepathy, but I know woman problems.” He grinned, a familiar dimple on his left cheek. “I’m a bartender, remember? I study human nature for a living.”
“Very funny.” I swallowed a hot mouthful of coffee and fought not to show the burn.
Cadmus started laughing at my expression.
I glared at him. He didn’t even try to offer sympathy.
“It’s not what you think.”
