Morrie burst out laughing. “You’re telling me that right now, somewhere in the forest, Heathcliff Earnshaw is tripping on psychedelic mushrooms?”
“Croak,” Quoth nodded vigorously.
Morrie doubled over, his whole body trembling from laughter. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to see it. And who’s Oscar?”
“My guide dog.” A hard lump formed in my throat. “I’ve had a few days of training with him, and his trainer agreed to let me bring him over the weekend. He’s… amazing. He’s so bright and intelligent and mischievous and I wish you could meet him and I—”
I collapsed against Morrie, bringing my lips to his. I couldn’t find the words to say what I needed to say, but I didn’t need words around Morrie. His fingers tightened on my neck, holding me just so as he deepened the kiss, sending a shiver of need coursing through me.
Behind us, Sherlock coughed, slumping further into the armchair. The candles scattered across the table gave me a clear view of… all of him. I went to turn away, but then stopped myself. He was the one sitting around naked. He should be embarrassed, not me.
Quoth perched on the other side of the bed, and in a flutter of wings and limbs, another naked man sat beside me. Only this one was beautiful. A curtain of black hair fell over Quoth’s chest as he leaned forward, nudging the rucksack across the floor.Scraaape.
“We brought you some supplies.” Quoth dropped his head as Sherlock glared at him.I could cut the tension in this cabin with a knife. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just step outside for a bit. I… I saw a mouse, and I’m starving. Call me when you’ve… when you need me.”
He transformed again and fluttered out the window into the night, leaving me with Morrie and Sherlock and an aching need inside me.
“You raided my stash. I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I love you at this moment.” Morrie dumped out the contents of the rucksack and dug through them. He pulled out two of the burner phones and turned them on. After a few taps, he handed one to me. “Take this. That way we’ll be able to communicate. Don’t call me – the signal isn’t great up here, and if the shop is bugged they might overhear something. Texts only, and delete them after you send them. And I meanproperdelete them. Do you know how to wipe a SIM card?”
My chest tightened as he spoke. Morrie’s caution made me realize just how serious this was. I’d been so busy worrying about him shacking up with Sherlock, I’d lost sight of the fact there was a warrant out for his arrest. If we didn’t solve Kate’s murder, Morrie would never be able to go back to a normal life.As normal as our lives are, living in a cursed bookshop, having a polyamorous relationship, and hunting down Dracula.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Everything was supposed to be working out for me. I’d already been dealt more than my fair share of bollocks. My life was supposed to be a bollocks-free zone right now. Obviously, the universe had other ideas.
By Isis, I’m not letting the universe or Dracula or Sherlock-bloody-Holmes take my happiness away from me.
My eyes flickered open.I guess we’re doing this.
I grabbed the phone. “Show me.”
Morrie walked me through an app he’d installed to delete all the information on the card, then pressed the phone back into my hands. “Do that after every time you message me. We can’t risk the police deciding to search you randomly and discovering you’re in contact with me.”
I swallowed. We’d deceived the police before, but nothing like this.If I got caught, I’d be on the hook for all kinds of criminal charges.“Got it.”
“What else is in this bag of tricks? Ohyes.” Morrie pulled out a small, black case.
“That’s not a gun, is it?”
“It’s even better.” Morrie unclipped the case and flipped the lid open, revealing a checkered surface and tiny black and white magnetic figures.
“You havetravel chessin your secret stash?”
“Laugh all you want, but I’ve been trapped up here for three nights with nothing to do except talk tohim. At least now we can take up our tournament from where we left off.” Morrie smirked at his naked ex. “With me thoroughly trouncing you.”
Sherlock snorted. “The transition from fictional character to real-life bastard has addled your memory, Moriarty. When last we left off, I was the unbeaten champion of thirteen rounds.”
“When last we left off?” Morrie sneered. “You mean when you chased me across Europe before throwing me over a waterfall?”
Sherlock leaned forward, his long body hovering dangerously close to Morrie. Tension stretched between them like strings of mozzarella cheese. Sherlock curled his lip back into a smirk that dripped with desire. “Maybe things would have ended differently if you stopped running.”
Sherlock moved toward him, but I was faster. I threw myself at Morrie, knocking him back against the bed, smothering my body in his. Morrie rolled me over so that I was beneath him, and his hands moved over me with a possessiveness that was utterly sinful. The stuffy air in the cabin heated up a notch or ten.
With my lips still pressed against his, I murmured. “How are things going with Sherlock? Are you… holding up okay?”
“Sherlock who?” Morrie chuckled as his fingers reached beneath the hem of my fleece, maneuvering through my layers to press his palm against my bare skin. His fingers slid down, down, down, determined as they slipped beneath the waistband of my leggings. I gasped into his mouth as he plunged two fingers deep inside me.
Morrie murmured with appreciation as my body clenched around him.
Sherlock isright there, and he knows this and he’s touching me and I don’t care…
