“Watch out for that father of yours,” Inara warned. “If he asks something of you, run, don’t walk, the other way. You don’t owe us anything.”
It took a moment to figure out which “father” she meant. Technically, I had two. The man who’d raised me and the Fae who’d contributed his sperm to my creation. As far as I knew, Inara had never met the former. That left Brin.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said slowly, flicking a look at Baran.
The Fae gave me nothing. As closed off and guarded as a brick wall. It was totally at odds with the version of him I’d gotten used to. One who used a veneer of biting sarcasm to keep everyone except Arlan and his twin at arm’s length.
“What’s wrong, pretty vampire? Hoping for a little snack before bedtime?” Baran’s gaze turned lascivious as he ran his eyes down my body. “I don’t think I’d mind. The twin and I have a bet going as to whether you’re a screamer.”
“You mean the twin that isn’t here?”
His expression faltered.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” I drawled.
Something bad had happened tonight. Something that involved his twin and my roommates.
And no one was talking.
I shook my head and started up the stairs. “Connor, you’re in charge until tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Matriarch.”
There was the barest hitch in my stride before I recovered. I still wasn’t used to being referred to by that title.
Matriarch of the House. May the fates protect us.
A banging noise from the front door barely registered as I buried myself further in my covers, clinging to sleep. It wasn’t until the cacophony was followed by my name being shouted—very loud and very insistently—that I managed to rouse.
Blearily, I lifted my head from where it was buried in the recesses of my two pillows and blinked groggily at the room around me.
What was going on?
Seeing no answer conveniently sitting on my dresser or perched next to the monstera one of the pixies had relocated to my bedroom, I put my head back down and started to drift off.
The vibration from my phone ringing barely penetrated as my muscles loosened and my body relaxed.
I was somewhere between dreaming and waking when a soft tap came from my bedroom door. The person on the other side didn’t wait for an acknowledgment, cracking the door and sticking her head inside. “You might want to come down here. There are some very angry werewolves who are threatening to break down your door if you don’t.”
I groaned into my pillow. “Tell them to go away.”
At least that was what I attempted to say, what came out was closer to a garbled string of incoherent syllables than actual words.
“Aileen. Up,” Deborah ordered.
She reached for the light switch, flicking it on and off in rapid succession.
I snarled, lifting onto my elbows to fix my companion with my best death stare.
Deborah proved immune—or maybe I just wasn’t that scary. Either way she flicked the switch one last time before leavingit on. “Just so you know, my job description doesn’t involve stepping into the path of oncoming werewolves. You’ve been warned.”
She withdrew, leaving me to listen to her footsteps getting further and further away as she retreated down the hallway to her own room.
“Damn it,” I growled into my pillow.
My phone vibrating on the end table next to the bed convinced me it was time to get my ass out of bed.
I swiped it up, not bothering to change out of my night clothes as I stumbled out of my room and toward the stairs.
