“Your place is a studio,” I reminded him, and it put us closer to Xavier, who was certain to use that to his advantage.
“We can make it work.”
“It would be under my protection,” Xavier agreed.
As much as I wanted Ivan safe, I knew Angel’s tiny place was going to be a nightmare. No privacy, a handsy boyfriend, and a nosey teen sounded like a bad comedy act. “Uh...” Not to mention a cockblock.
Angel glanced my way. “You don’t think I can protect you?”
That wasn’t it at all. Angel clenched his fists at his side, obviously as annoyed at being steamrolled as I was, and I tried to protest, but Xavier interrupted, “I have a furnished two-bedroom that you can borrow for a few days.” Xavier shook his head. “Nothing is getting in without me knowing.” His gaze shifted to Ivan. “Pack your stuff. Keanan and Sylas will help.”
“Ah...” Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“Peanut Butter and Nox, too, right?” Ivan glanced at him, then at me. “I can’t find Nox. I think he might be hiding under your bed.”
Or on my back, though I couldn’t feel his familiar tingle. I’d have to sit down with Ivan and lay out the truth about the weird little fae hitchhiker before he got seriously attached.
“I can protect them,” Angel snapped at Xavier.
Xavier sighed. “Angel.”
“Jude is my mate.”
“I’m not disputing that. But your choices are to take Jude to your place, and I’ll find a smaller efficiency for Ivan to stay while you’re in TFW next week, or take the two-bedroom and keep the brothers together.”
“I vote for the two-bedroom,” I added, wanting to keep an eye on Ivan. “Will he be able to stay there with the cats while I’m working? You’ll make sure he’s safe and stuff?”
“Of course,” Xavier agreed.
Angel’s jaw clenched hard enough that I heard his teeth grind. “Fine.” He turned on his heel and stalked into the apartment. My gut flipped over with anxiety that he was pissed at me.
“Sorry,” I apologized to Hardy as I darted after my boyfriend. Our relationship was like two hours old, and I was already fucking it up.
8
I racedby the handful of lingering agents cataloging the attack and through the apartment to my bedroom, where Angel jerkily shoved his stuff into his backpack. He’d practically been living out of the thing for the past two weeks. Our whirlwind relationship had landed him at my door because my life was more complicated than his.
“Angel,” I breathed, hesitating to touch him for fear he’d turn on me. Too many bad relationships left a mark.
“He’s right,” Angel said after a long minute, pausing in his angry packing.
“About?”
“I can’t protect you.” The tightness in his tone made me leap forward and wrap my arms around his middle from behind. A long breath released from him, and he sagged into my embrace. “It’s true,” he said after a long minute. “I can’t protect you from a fucking god.”
“And if I say that I don’t want your protection?” I asked.
He stiffened.
“But I need your support.”
He looked back at me, eyes watery, jaw set in a hard line with a touch of hope.
“We’re a team, right? You and me? I’ll never be as strong or as fast as you, and sometimes I get lost in the weird shit I see, but you’ll always have my back?”
“Yes,” he breathed, turning to face me and rest his forehead on mine.
“And you won’t hate me if I have to learn some of this magic stuff to protect myself, my brother, and you.”
