“He’s gone.” She takes a deep breath.
Anger and understanding war within me, but I force myself to stand down and let them work it out. I motion to the island. “Give him some space. Let him come to you.” I wave a hand toward the barstool. “Sit. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
She drops onto the seat and looks over at Jamison and Hawthorne. “Hi.” There’s a nervous tone to her voice as she looks at their impassive faces. “I heard you had an interesting visit with Mercer’s elf?” She nervously toys with the napkin while she waits for them to answer.
Deflection. Good call. Jamison shifts into work mode and gives an update on what Caron told them.
I slide the eggs and toast onto a plate and set it in front of Phaedra, watching for a second to make sure she starts eating.
A pensive expression settles on her face. “So, I’m the cause for all this. I wonder how Bennett discovered me.”
Hawthorne places his hands on the island and leans down to look her straight in the eyes. “You are not the cause of Bennett’s delusions. Nor hisobsession.” The way he spits out the last word tells me that pisses him off. He continues. “Supernaturals have never been happy with the treaty. Someone was bound to come along and start another war.”
She stares at him, hope in her eyes, but the wry curve of her mouth tells me she doesn’t believe him.
Jamison snorts in agreement. “Surprised we’ve gone this long.” He drains the last dregs of coffee from his cup and sets it in the sink. He turns and gives her a determined look. “Let us worry about Bennett. At least we know where to start looking for him. My father—” He stops mid-sentence and begins patting his pockets. A second later, he pulls a familiar list and spreads it on the counter.
“I’ll be damned,” he says, tapping the sheet. “Bennett’s on the list Charlie gave you. I looked at it but dismissed the name because I’d never heard of him.”
She places a hand on his arm. “We’re spread thin. Don’t be hard on yourself.”
He looks down at her hand for a second, then his mouth firms. “I’m going to find Mathias and have a chat.”
Her brow furrows as he leaves, but she says nothing.
“I still have to create the actual tree, but what did you think of my idea?” Hawthorne quietly asks, his eyes studying her face. I think he realizes she’s trying.
Her answering smile makes him take a half-step closer. “The tree will be perfect. Maybe you should come with me and present it to her.”
Gritting my teeth, I glare at her, knowing what she’s trying to do. “Hawthorne is welcome to join us.”
“Do you really think you should be there?” She returns with a determined look on her face. “Did you tell them what she did to you?”
“Of course,” I reply in a nonchalant tone.
“She called you an abomination,” Phaedra spits out angrily, throwing her hands up when she realizes I’m not backing down. “Do you really think you’ll be able to help if she immobilizes you again?”
I sigh, hating to see the worry on her face. “Maybe it would be best if I wait outside and let Hawthorne go in with you. Her attitude towards my racemightbe a little concerning.” That’s as far as I’m willing to go. Not that I give a fuck about Hera, but I don’t want Phaedra distracted when she’s dealing with her. I flick a loaded glance at Hawthorne. He’d better have his priorities straight if he goes with her.
He subtly dips his chin in agreement.
She stands and walks over to me. Her hands slide up my chest to the back of my neck before she pulls my lips down to meet hers. With a groan, I wrap my arms tightly around her and give in to the sweetest fucking kiss I’ve ever been given. It’s soft and generous and almost brings me to my knees.
“Thank you,” she says as she pulls back. “I know that wasn’t easy, and I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make the offerings and get out quick.”
“You’d better,” I say gruffly, unable to think about the alternative. “What are the next two items on your list?”
Her nose scrunches up. “Pomegranate and peacock. Hawthorne’s tree will work for the pomegranate, but I need something else for the peacock.”
“The pin won’t be spectacular enough,” I say, remembering Hera’s warning. I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to call Hera out on her bullshit. An idea comes to me. “Why don’t you go with Hawthorne and finish the tree, and I’ll work on the peacock for you.”
A bemused expression crosses her face, but the look in my eyes must convince her I’m serious. “Mmm, a man of many talents. Deal.”
Hawthorne’s staring at me in disbelief, and I narrow my eyes at him. He’s not the only smart person in this room. He holds up his hands in surrender and motions for Phaedra to lead the way.
When they’re gone, I pick up the phone and search for a particular peacock, then I call Jamison. “Where are you?”
“The garage,” he replies with a frustrated sigh. “Mathias left.”
