“He’s not here,” I tell him, though my voice is somber. I pull my hands from my pockets and take another look around the lush grounds. “Do you know how often he came here?” I inquire. It’s weird to think a stranger might know my dad better than me.
“A few times a year.” Modeus shrugs his heavy shoulders. “I accompanied him once.”
“I didn’t know. About him coming here, I mean.” The second the utterance is out of my mouth, I want to take it back. He’s not here to hold my hand while I get all weepy. He’s here to help me find my dad. “There’s another place I’m going to check,” I add in a rush, trying to cover my awkward blathering.
“Where you lead, I will follow,” he says without so much as a shift in his features.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I have no plans of actually taking over the club,” I protest, not feeling worthy of his allegiance. I sure haven’t done anything to earn it. That gets a reaction out of him—he tilts his head to the side just a fraction, and his eyes, while never leaving my face, squint.
I stand here, waiting for him to say something, but he continues to silently assess me, and I quickly grow uncomfortable. Damnit, why do I have the urge to look away and break the stare off first?
“Where are we going?” he finally asks, and I blink a few times before snapping my gaze away from his.
“I’m headed back toward Delten, to their old house. Have you been there too?” The last part comes out flippantly as I start hoofing it back to the main entrance with my new, hulking gray shadow trailing behind me.
You’d think I would learn to keep my mouth shut, especially since I’m either on edge from the situation or just from being around Modeus, but that must be too much to ask of my overwhelmed brain.
“I haven’t been there.” Modeus widens his strides so he can keep pace beside me.
“I probably should have gone there first. This was a waste of time,” I admit.
“It wasn’t a waste. Nowyouknow he’s not here,” Modeus reasons. He’s right too. It only feels like a waste because he’s not here, but I always would have needed to check for myself.
As the bikes come into view, I slow my steps. I want to ask him about Harlow, but there’s a reluctant, prideful part of me that doesn’t want to admit he may know more about my father in recent months than I do. “I’m going to need fuel for the ride back,” I say, avoiding the real reason I’m holding us up.
“I’ll fill up too.” Modeus continues to match his stride to mine, slowing.
Once we’re back on the road, I won’t have the opportunity to speak to him, so I swallow my reluctance and blurt out, “Did he seem off to you? Was there anything going on in his life in or out of the club?”
Modeus stops when he reaches his motorcycle. It’s a beast of a machine, much like the rider. “I can think of one thing.”
“What is it?” I press when he doesn’t seem inclined to divulge more.
“He was helping me.” His icy blue gaze meets mine.
“Helping you with what exactly?”
Modeus flicks his eyes down briefly, then he captures my gaze again just as quickly. It’s arresting, and I can’t decide if it’s because I think he’s about to lie to me, or if he’s just so fucking attractive that I don’t know how to handle the seductive look.
“I told you I’m no longer bound to Hell, but I didn’t tell you that finding mybashertis what severed the bonds.”
Bashert. He has a mate? That information should be reassuring, but then why am I imagining ripping the horns off some pretty little demon?
“Harlow is helping you with your mate?” I sure as hell don’t think he needs lessons in pleasing her, he’s the Prince of Lust, for fuck’s sake, but that’s my first thought.
Modeus’ brows pinch. “I am learning there is more than carnal needs.”
Shit,why did I think this line of questioning was a good idea? Now all I can think about is Modeus fucking his way in and out of trouble with a side of orgasms for dessert. “Oh, I hope he was able to…help and that it goes well for you,” I finally say. I don’t know how else to end this conversation.
“I’ll let you know,” he replies, still watching me closely. At least now I know it’s just his presence that is enthralling and he probably can’t help that, just like I can’t help that I’m a gargoyle.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. We should go.”
CHAPTER4
Modeus
I’m still thinkingabout that hot little spike of anger she felt when I mentioned I had abashert. Harlow cautioned me from telling her what she means to me many times, but it was nearly impossible not to voice the truth then.
