The patio did not yet have fencing where it overlooked the ocean, the contractors waiting for supplies, according to Apollo, who’d been telling Iolana about the items still to be finished. What did that mean for me?
With nothing to bar my slipping and sliding body, I went sailing off a cliff. And like a rock, I plummeted.
Chapter Seventeen
A persistent tapping roused me as I lay on the cusp of sleep wrapped in Apollo’s arms. Such nice arms. Muscled and strong. Just right for snuggling—and other things…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“What the fuck is that?” Apollo groaned, waking with a grumble.
“It sounds like something at the window.” Sliding door, to be precise.
“That can’t be good.” Apollo immediately sprang from the bed, his naked ass flexing as he stalked for the filmy curtains covering the exit to the balcony. He drew them open and exclaimed, “It’s Tigger.”
“What?” I sat up, holding the sheet to my naked breasts. Breasts still sensitive from Apollo’s touch.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Apollo disarmed the system before giving the dragon entrance into the bedroom. “What the hell, Tigger? You’re not supposed to be outside,” he barked.
“And yet here I am,” Tigger stated as he entered with a rattle as if he dragged something.
“How did you get out of your room without setting off the alarm?” Apollo asked.
“Let’s just say you’ll need to repair the screen covering the door.”
“Oh, Tigger,” I sighed, flopping backwards onto my pillow.
“If you could get in and out on your own, why are you waking us up?” Apollo, barely discernible in the dark room, stood with his arms crossed.
“Because I have news.”
“It couldn’t wait for morning?” I grumbled.
“No, this couldn’t wait. Firstly, I handled the mechanical spy. You’re welcome.” Clang. Something metallic rattled. What on earth? I leaned over and switched on a lamp to see Apollo crouched, running his fingers over?—
“Is that a drone?” I exclaimed. The device, not very large, had bent propellers.
“Yes, it’s a drone,” repeated in a tone that stated I’d said something dumb. “But it is not the most important thing right now. Look.” Tigger whirled to show us his back, and I gaped for a second before blurting out, “You have wings!”
“Indeed, I do. They’re not very sturdy yet.” He flexed them, making the orange membrane on them stretch. “With time, they’ll strengthen and I’ll be able to properly fly.”
“When did this happen?” I tumbled out of the bed and grabbed for the robe I’d worn—only for a few minutes—after my shower.
“They popped out when I fell off the bluff to avoid notice by the drone.”
I paused in the process of tying my sash and blinked as I digested his words. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. My wings chose an opportune moment to emerge, and I glided to safety.”
“Glad you didn’t end up smushed, and congrats on the wings, but how did you take down the drone?” Apollo held it in his hands and frowned.
“With a rock. As it came for me, its searchlight seeking, I found a stone and threw it with all my might. My impeccable aim struck it in the propellers, and it fell down.”
I arched a skeptical brow. “Why am I having a hard time believing that?”
“It might have been more than a single rock,” Tigger muttered. “However, that’s not the point. I incapacitated the spy and got my wings. I think we should celebrate with a midnight feast.”
“Not so quick.” A still-frowning Apollo flipped over the drone and toggled a switch. A faint whir, I’d barely noticed, died. He glanced at me. “The blades were too bent for it to fly, but the camera might have still been recording. Microphone too.” He didn’t need to add that whoever sent it might have seen and heard everything.
