Samael’s eyes turned hard, his jaw tightened, and he cast my naked body a look so mournful, so filled with regret, that I couldn’t help but laugh as I rolled away.
I sauntered into his shower, feeling his eyes on my butt.
Samael followed me into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway and watching me as I dunked my head under the water.
“Perve.”
He smiled, but it dropped from his face as he heaved a sigh. “Fine,” he told Azazyel. “I’ll be right there.”
“It’s hard work being the boss,” I said as he hung up.
“It never seemed difficult until I had you waiting naked and wet in my shower.”
I grinned at that, running my gaze down his chest and to the bulge in his pants. “I guess we’ll continue this later.”
He stalked toward me, reached into the shower, and pulled me close, ignoring the water as it sprayed him.
“You can count on that,” he said. His mouth slammed down on mine, and then he was stalking away, steam rising from his clothes as he used his power to dry them.
I increased the heat of the hot water, hoping the numerous showerheads would coax me fully awake. I’d stayed outside the hotel until the early hours of the morning to give Kyla a break, but by 2am, Samael had been displeased. He’d sent Bel— one of his demons— to take over, so Kyla and I could both get some sleep.
I couldn’t complain.
I finished showering, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, and checked on Evie— still sleeping. She’d been moved into Samael’s spare room. Liam had wanted to stay with her, but Samael wouldn’t allow a werewolf alone with my sister in his penthouse.
I texted Kyla. Guilt made my stomach churn. As important as our investigation was, I needed to talk to Gemma about a different subject. It was time to ask her some difficult questions about my sister.
Once I was done, Kyla would take over watching the hotel— and Gail, and I’d get to work looking into their finances and criminal backgrounds.
I blasted the A/C as I drove, thankful I wasn’t driving my old Toyota. I parked the car on the street outside the hotel and the nape of my neck turned damp with sweat as I walked toward the lobby. It was supposed to get into the 90s today, and the humidity would be brutal.
Caroline, Gail, and a few of the other witches were quietly eating breakfast in the living area when I walked in. They nodded at me, but the atmosphere was bleak. Someone had found pictures of every witch who had been in the house— and Willow— and taped them up on the wall as a makeshift memorial.
I knocked on Gemma’s door.
“Enter.” Her voice was hoarse and when I swung open the door, she was sitting next to one of the beds in an armchair, staring down at the city below. Her cane leaned against the chair a few inches from her hand.
Gemma’s eyes narrowed intently on my face. “Have you found anything?”
“We’re working on it.”
She nodded and looked away. I helped myself to the armchair on the other side of the small coffee table.
She surveyed me. “I was only twelve when the portals opened.”
Jesus. I mean I guess it made sense. That put her at eighty-four today, and right now, I could see the years weighing on her.
“How did you create the coven so young?”
“My parents took me out of the city. I returned when I was seventeen. By then, I could see hope. Over the next five years, I built friendships and alliances. By the time the factions had ceased warring, our coven was ready.”
She turned her gaze away once more, staring sightlessly out the window. “And now most of my people are dead.” Bitterness clouded her words. “Speak child. If you haven’t come to inform me you’ve found whoever did this, you’ve come to talk about your sister. Evie texted me before her surgery. How is she?”
“She came through it and she’ll sleep for a couple of days. I need to know why she’s being targeted, Gemma.”
She looked at me. “Taking your mother in was my biggest mistake as coven leader. I knew it was a mistake at the time, but even I couldn’t know that it would lead to this.”
I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t make a single word come out.
