Devon smiles patiently. “I will gladly school you all again shortly, but for now, I have other obligations.”
I roll my eyes.
The brothers file out, some of them with open hostility aimed at me.
“Video games?” I ask as soon as we’re alone.
“Admiration is part of lust,” Devon says, stretching his arms over his head. The open side of his shirt rucks up slightly, revealing the start of dark letters tattooed across the right side of his ribs. Runic symbols I don’t recognize. “Gaming is the modern-day equivalent of jousting. A symbol of masculinity and dominance.”
“Sounds like someone’s aiming for a thesis topic in Gender Studies,” I say.
Devon angles his head, eyeing me with what might be a mix of wariness and incredulity. “You are very different from what I expected.”
“I bet,” I say flatly. Then I nod at the Greek letters on his shirt. “You know they take that stuff seriously. You’re not just borrowing clothes.”
Devon nods, setting aside his controller. “I’m aware. I’m fairly sure I’m lavaliered with one of them. Or more.” He sounds unconcerned.
“You’re not going to hurt them.” If my ultimate goal is to get information from Devon, it probably would have been more politic to phrase that as a question instead of a command.
But I can’t make myself do it. Because that raises the possibility of a different response than the only one I will accept. And that cannot happen. Devon may be a lesser threat than the unknown spawn who killed Lennie, but he doesn’t get a free pass for that.
Devon eases off the couch and comes to stand in front of me. This close, thepullof him is stronger, regardless of my ability to resist. He’s taller than Carter but not quite as broad through the shoulders. I would easily be able to rest my cheek against the center of his chest. He could wrap me tight and rest his head on the top of my head without trouble. He is lean and lithe but no less powerful for it. And those sweatpants are hidingnothing.
I’ve never been with someone like me, someone who can understand thehungerand the lengths we go to satisfy it. He would take from me. I can almost hear his soft moan of satisfaction in my ear, the thrust of his desire against me. He would grow stronger from it, then maybe I could take from him, without harming…
Irritated, I shake my head slightly, to try and clear it. His magic seeps in, even when he’s not trying to overpower me.
Devon reaches out and tips my chin up. “Jo,” he says gently, his eyes searching mine, for what I’m not sure. “If I wanted to hurt them, it would already be done. And I wouldn’t be here, waiting for you.”
I have no idea what that means.
I step back from him. “What about them?” I jerk my thumb back toward the hall and the intermittent moaning and gasps coming from behind the closed doors. Two couples, maybe more.
His mouth tightens but he nods. “Yes. But they were paired already. I took care to ensure their relationship is current.”
Which still means jack shit if any of them had reservations about sex at that moment. Just because they’ve been together before isn’t a green light for someone to magically manipulate them into intimacy again.
The disapproval must show in my expression.
Devon steps back. “I can walk out and find others on the street, if you prefer. Strangers,” he says easily, but a new coolness has entered his tone.
“Don’t threaten me,” I snap. “You act like I’m the unreasonable one here. You’re the one that barged into a bar with my friends, spraying lust around like champagne in a championship locker room. What am I supposed to expect from you?”
Oddly, relief flashes across his face before vanishing. “I apologize.” He lowers his gaze with a grimace. “Last night was an ugly necessity. I needed to know where you stood, and I couldn’t afford to show anything but strength. Just in case. No one wants a weak ally.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but that’s not going tostop me. “And today?” I gesture toward the door and the brothers beyond it.
Devon hesitates. “It occurred to me that your response last night may have been situational. Those people, that location.” He shakes his head. “I needed to be sure.”
Sure of what, exactly?
“Additionally, I’m not in a position where I can afford to be caught off guard,” he says. “I took no more from them than was needed to keep up my reserves. I’m sure you understand.”
Frustration swells in me. “I don’t understand anything,” I say, trying to rein in my temper. “I’m here because Lennie, the friend you were talking to last night, is dead. Someone killed her with magic. Pulled her insides out.”
As awful as the words are to say aloud, it is a relief to just say them plainly. Out loud. No dancing around, no careful restatements to create something close to the truth.
Just the ugly facts, ma’am.
