But her grandpa, Reaver, had pulled her aside once, after her father had given her the choice-fate lectureagain. “Scotty, someday you’re going to face an impossible decision. There will be no winner if you choose. So, let fate make the choice.” He’d lifted her off the ground and hugged her tightly. “Sometimes, the right decision is the one you don’t make.”
He was apparently such a strong believer in fate that he’d sent Mace and Blade gifts of daggers with the wordFATEengraved in the hilts when they were hired by DART.
Rade looked at each of them in turn. “Maybe you guys should make an agreement not to get involved now. Save yourselves the trouble later.”
She was about to say it wasn’t necessary when both Mace and Blade nodded.
“Probably smart,” Blade said.
Mace responded with an agreeable, “Yup. We gotta swear to be friends only.”
They both gave her expectant looks, and her heart sank. She’d kind of thought that they’d all just…be together. Always. For everything. In every way.
She’d been a fool. She was exactly what Aleka always said she was. A silly girl who lived in another reality.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Friends only.”
Mace produced hisFATEblade and slashed his palm before handing the knife to her. “I swear…”
Chapter 2
Greed is not a financial issue. It’s a heart issue. – Andy Stanley
Present day.
The stench of blood, pain, and evil hung in the air like an acidic fog as Blade crept through shadowy rooms and narrow halls, his boots making the old church floorboards creak. Ahead, the outline of a mystical doorway beckoned him with a flickering glow, promising an epic battle with supernatural creatures and—
“I think I’m ready to lose my virginity.”
Blade tripped over his feet at Scotty’s announcement. The concealed doorway in the basement of the abandoned church forgotten, he wheeled around to face her. His cousin and DART teammate, Mace, popped upright from where he’d been bent over the body of a demon, his knife dripping with the monster’s blood.
Mace glanced over at Blade. “Did she say what I think she said?”
“You heard right.” Scotty made her summoned sword—also dripping with greasy, inky demon blood—disappear. “My birthday is only two weeks away. I don’t want to be a thirty-year-old virgin.”
Unsure what to say, Blade and Mace just stared at her as she stood in a dust mote-infested beam of sickly light that squeezed between the slats of a broken, boarded-up window. They’d been sent to root out a nest of demons causing trouble for the new propertyowners, but given the rundown condition of the building, Blade figured the demons were the least of their problems. Black mold and the possibility of the roof collapsing in on them seemed like more pressing concerns.
Huffing, Scotty jammed her fists onto her hips, her bare, toned arms streaked with gore. She looked like a badass in black, from her leggings made from the impenetrable, flexible scales of a Sobek demon’s head, to her combat boots and form-fitting tank that showed off her sleek, muscular physique. A weapons harness and various sheaths crisscrossed her body, ensuring she always had a killing tool at the ready for every occasion, every species of demon, or, in the rare event that her ability to summon a sword failed.
“Well?” she prompted. “Will you guys help me?”
Help her? Lust flushed through Blade’s body. He’d fantasized about being with Scotty for years, and what she’d just asked for was basically his dream come true.
There was only one problem with that.
Years ago, Mace and Blade swore an oath that they would never—ever—have sex with their best friend. The three of them had been tight since they were kids, first playing together, then training together, and now working together. Their bond was too important to fuck up with sex.
But he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be with her just once. To agree to her shocking request. His hands would probably shake as he peeled off her clothes, and his heart would race at the sight of her naked, hard body. He’d seen her in a bikini a million times, but he’d sell his soul to know what secrets she hid under the stretchy fabric. Were her breasts sprinkled with as many freckles as her nose and cheeks? Was she smooth between her thighs, or were her curls as red as her fiery mane?
Would she let him worship her with his mouth and tongue before he sank into her willing body?
Or would Mace be the one who got to be with her for her first time?
A hot surge of jealousy tore through him, followed by instant shame. They’d sworn their pact for this exact reason, long before Blade had developed feelings for her. He was a jackass for hoping for something that couldn’t happen.
He looked over at Mace, who slowly, methodically, wiped the blade of his knife on his pants and slipped it into the sheath at his hip.
“Scotty,” Mace said, his voice low and rough, “we swore an oath. We can’t help you.”
