Obsidian could practically see the male’s brain working. “I’ll have Gryffyth keep an eye on him. See if we can figure out what she’s up to. And you? I assume you’ll be sticking close to the female?”
“As close as she’ll allow.” He smiled, thinking about Penelope’s abrupt departure this morning.
“Stig said she’s independent. But she’s a homebody. Doesn’t get out much, nor does she have much contact with her family. Including her brother. It’s only a matter of time before Perfidious gets bored, and we all know what that means.”
Yes, they did. And they were all aware of what the demon was capable of.
After everyone was caught up on the situation, Obsidian wasn’t in the mood to sit around, but he hung back long enough to catch up with his brothers, checking in, getting a sit-rep on theiramsouelots. They were still searching, following every lead that came in on the females destined as their mates. Though they were only three weeks in, the website was getting numerous hits and leads, mostly from vampires looking to get in their good graces.
Rather than wallow in the disappointment that his brothers had yet to get the satisfaction they sought, Obsidian headed out. No surprise he ended up standing in front of Penelope’s apartment door, hand raised to knock.
He’d seen her little compact car out front and he could hear her moving around inside, so he knew she was home. The question was, did knocking on her door make him look like a stalker? Technically, she hadn’t given him her address, which put his impromptu arrival in that category.
Never one to second-guess his actions, Obsidian rapped his knuckles on the door, then took a step back and waited for her to answer. He listened to her bare feet moving across the laminate flooring, her breaths as she paused and peered out through the security hole.
She opened the door, those big, beautiful eyes wide with surprise. “Obsidian. What are you— How did you know where I live?”
Yep. Stalker.
“I’ve got connections.”
She smiled sweetly. “So you said.”
“May I come in?”
Penelope stepped back out of the way. “Of course.”
He strolled into the small apartment, taking in the living room and kitchen in a single breath. Though she didn’t have much, her personal space was spotless and organized, clearly a place she enjoyed spending her time. Obsidian let his senses expand through all seven hundred square feet, listening for noises that might suggest someone was there.
He was greeted only with silence.
“I’m … uh … actually glad you came over,” she said after locking the door behind him.
Obsidian peered down at her when she moved around in front of him. She was wearing a thin tank top that showcased her smooth shoulders, her toned arms. And those little shorts gave him a great view of her sexy legs. Her little pink toes were painted a brilliant blue, which made him smile. Whoever bitched about the heat of summer being brutal clearly hadn’t caught sight of Penelope in her summer wear.
Her lashes fluttered, her eyes shifting to his neck as though she couldn’t look him in the face. “I was thinking about you.”
That single admission had every cell in his body roaring to life.
“I’d considered inviting you for dinner,” she added, a slow smile forming as her gaze lifted. “But I didn’t have your number.” Penelope motioned toward the living room. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry?”
Her nervousness was endearing.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, clearing the three feet to the living room.
“I bought lasagna. It’s frozen, but … well, it’ll take about an hour.”
“Lasagna sounds perfect.” He would’ve been open to eating raw meat if that was what she offered him.
While she padded to the other side of the island that separated her kitchen from the living room, Obsidian headed for the red sofa, ensuring he had a view of both the windows and the door. As well as Penelope.
“This is a nice place.”
Penelope glanced back over her shoulder as she punched buttons on the oven, pride making her face glow. “Thanks. It’s the first place I’ve had all to myself. A little small, but I like it.”
It suited her. The furniture was minimal, but it matched. The few knickknacks she had held a gothic flair, catering mostly to angels and fairies. He paused next to a two-foot-tall statue that looked remarkably like Acadia. Right down to the wings that resembled snowflakes.
Obsidian picked up a picture frame on the end table, stared at it. Penelope was standing beside a man, the Las Vegas sign behind them. They were both mugging for the camera. “This your brother?”
