Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his back and playfully nipped at his throat. “Watch it, Mr. Bounds.”
He palmed the back of her head. “Always, Miss North.”
ChapterSeventeen
“I really don’t thinkthe gun is necessary.”
Harlan slanted a look at his anchor, who stood in a puffy coat, a knit beanie, and tall leather boots beside him. Under the coat was a garish sweater covered in stars, a twin to the one she had somehow coerced him into wearing. In her hands was a deep glass dish full of fluffy pastries she’d spent all of the previous night working on.
The air was cool in San Jose, but lacked the bite of snow that came with each breath back home. It was the first night of Burden’s month-long holiday and the street that stretched out before them was ablaze with lights. Every home was decorated with bulbs and string lights and artificial candles — each one a reminder that even in the darkest, coldest time of the year, there was warmth to be found.
Harlan was not, as a rule, particularly conscious of holidays.
He was not religious. The gods held no interest for him, and he never found comfort in the stories other vampires whispered about the gift Grim had given them, how their goddess was the truest, most powerful one of all.
He didn’t listen when they spoke about how one day all the Earth would be her domain, and how the vampires would rule a land of the dead.
What was religion to a man who delivered death in exchange for money? Where were the gods when he pulled the trigger, or when his mother left him in the sun to die as a defenseless newborn?
If Harlan had to guess, the gods probably didn’t exist. If they did, they were cruel, capricious bastards, and he’d sooner swallow his own tongue than worship at their feet.
…But he liked the lights.
He liked that they made Zia’s golden skin glow, and that, though she fairly shook with nerves, the excitement in her expression was undeniable. She was happy to be home with her family, andshewanted to celebrate Burden’s Moon. He would make sure she got both of those things, no matter the personal cost to him.
That being said, he absolutely was not leaving their home without a gun.
Harlan hoisted their bags out of the trunk of his car. In his, there were two guns — companions to the one he strapped to his back. “We talked about this,” he replied, watching the trunk’s lid come down automatically. “I will keep you safe, no matter the cost, Zia. That includes your pouting when I bring guns to your family’s home.”
“I just don’t think it’snecessary,”she argued. “You haven’t heard a peep from Julius, right? Do you really think he’d do something now, when we’re with a houseful of people?”
Harlan gestured for her to walk ahead of him, toward the two story house bursting with color directly across the street. A dark SUV was already parked in front. Another was down the block. Both were full of his men, who were almost as tense as he was.
He tried to be as honest as he could be with Zia about the possible dangers ahead of them, but no matter what he said, he never could convey what two hundred years of instinct told him was true: silence meant danger.
Something bad was headed their way.
His witch couldn’t feel it, but he could. The smart thing would have been to outright refuse her request to visit her family, but he just didn’t have the heart to do it. He rarely had the will to say no to her, but he was especially weak when it came to her love for her family.
Her devotion to her loved ones was one of the things helovedabout his anchor. How could he punish her for it?
Besides, she had a point. Julius was arrogant, but he wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t risk having a squadron of Patrol officers descend on him by making a mess in a quiet suburb of the EVP.
He was grateful that Zia was being as accommodating as she was. She didn’t complain about the extra guards, nor that they would spend the day in a high security hotel in San Francisco before they returned to the manor. Most people wouldn’t have tolerated his paranoia, but she took it in stride.
Still, he wasn’t going to give up his guns.
“Keeping you safe is my number one priority,” he told her. Somewhere, muffled by walls and laughter, a jaunty holiday song began to play. “Don’t think about the guns. There’s only a slim chance I’ll have to use them.”
Zia paused. Standing a pace behind him on the cleanly swept sidewalk, she demanded, “What do you meanslim chance?”
Harlan shot her a small smile over his shoulder. “If your brothers don’t like me, I might need them.”
“You willnot!”
She hurried to catch up to him, her cheeks pink with cold and exasperation. Harlan nudged her to take the low steps up to her parent’s house first. He watched her back. Always.
When she gave him a playful glare, he leaned down to press a kiss to her rosy cheek. “Pretty pet,” he whispered against her skin, “it’s cute when you order me around.”
