They are all clearly in agreement, but our rare moment of unity is quickly dashed when Baelfire gives me a patronizing smile.
“I almost forgot you’re insane off your fucking ass for a moment. Good job.”
Asshole.
Before I can remind him thathe’sout of his mind most of the time as well, we all hear the front door of the quintet apartment open and close. This conversation is quickly shelved. As soon as Maven steps into this room, Baelfire has her scooped up and set on the bed, a spoon full of warm food in his hand as if he plans to feed her himself.
“We didn't have a lot of spices so it's kind of a crappy, plain meal. But I really need you to eat, Boo,” he pleads.
She studies the rice and beans, takes a tentative bite, and nods. “It's good.”
He practically preens. I roll my eyes at his predictable shifter pride in caring for a mate, but it's convenient that at least one of us knows the way around a kitchen.
“Good. Eat all of it, Mayflower.”
She glances at Everett and me, eyes narrowing. “Where's your food? Are we all sharing this bowl?”
“I'd cut my tongue out before sharing a bowl with those asshats,” Bael says brightly, booping her nose. “There wasn't much left here, but we're fine. We'll eat in the morning.”
“You should all eat tonight,” she argues.
“I certainly will, be it in your dreams or between your lovely thighs,” Crypt winks.
Maven flushes and starts to protest the food situation again, but Everett cuts her off.
“Where the hell were you for so long?” he grouches, but his tone belies his actions as he slips into the bed beside Maven and begins gently detangling her damp hair.
She's in the middle of chewing another bite, but holds up the bag of salt as an answer.
“For the ghosts,” Crypt understands with a nod, lighting one of his cigarettes and taking a drag.
He wanders to a window to crack it open, which is good because that herb is strong when it's smoked. I'm fairly certain that's the firstreveriumhit he's had in months, since he’s simply been taking the siphon approach to numbing pain until now.
Maven nods and stands like she's about to scatter salt at the perimeters of our abode, as I've heard must be done to repel ghosts. I quickly take the bag from her, flick an imp off the top of her head, and kiss her temple.
“Allow me. You eat.”
“Sure, let the hallucinating madman be in charge of ghost duty,” Everett mutters.
Flipping off the scarred elemental, I leave her room and get to work lining the perimeter of the entire apartment with salt. I only pause to examine my work when I'm done, and that'swhen I realize I’m back inside the bedroom and Maven is closely examiningmenow that she's done with her meal.
I smirk. “You don't seem to mind that I forgot where my clothes are,thanafluir.”
She grins back. “Naked and insane does seem to be my type.”
On cue, Baelfire quickly starts stripping out of the few clothes he has on, making our keeper laugh.
Gods, that sound is sublime.
It's the laugh of a lying, scheming, filthy little bitch,a voice snarls in my head.
“Shut the hell up,” I mutter in fae.
Before the dragon shifter can strip completely, he hisses in pain, clutching his head and baring his teeth. Maven’s amusement dies as she immediately cradles his head in her lap. The rest of us watch, tensed to see if his dragon is taking over. If so, we'll have to ensure he won’t harm her.
But Bael pushes through, his breathing turning labored as he groans. “Fuck, I really hate that alphahole. Pretty sure everyone does, at this point.”
Maven makes a face. “I don't hate your dragon. I hate your curse—I hateallof your curses. And to think, I once wanted to exploit them.”
