“Bless the Creator,” Selene cackled. “You like her. Either that, or you’ve finally met a female who’s not so eager to throw herself at you.”
“Both of those statements are false,” Ronin growled.
“Mmhmm. Now Ireallywant to come up there so I can meet her.”
“Trust me, she’s not nearly as fun as I’m making her sound.”
“Rook to d8. Checkmate.”
“Fuck,” Ronin exhaled, moving Selene’s white rook down the board. His sister had bested him. Again. In all the years they’d been playing together, he’d never been able to beat her.
A knock followed by muffled voices sounded through the stone. “I’ve gotta go, Ro. I’m having company over tonight.”
Ronin bit back a shocked grunt. Selene kept pretty much to herself, but he was pleased to hear she was making friends back home. “Good for you. Now, when you’re hosting an orgy, you’re going to want to?—”
Selene’s warm laugh settled over him like a comforting blanket. “You’re incorrigible. Trust me, it’s not that kind of get-together.”
Something about the way she said it made Ronin curious to ask exactlywhatkind of get-together it was, but the voices on the other end grew louder and he didn’t want to keep his sister from her guests. Especially since she entertained so rarely.
“Night, Leenie. Have fun at your orgy. Make safe choices.”
Selene snickered again. “Have fun with your ice queen. Love you, big bro.”
“Love you, too.”
Ronin removed the stone and tossed it onto the table next to his half-drunk Delirium and his lost game. He plucked up the bottle and took another long pull before glancing at the clock on his bookshelf. Just before seven.
He groaned, stretching his arms across the back of the cushions, and gazed out the window. Below the sharp, icy fangs of the Blackspurs, a turret of the Otto estate punched through a gap in the trees, bone-shard white through the black skin of evergreens. Ronin shivered. What awaited him and Mireille in that old mansion in the mountains?
He pushed up off his couch and strode into the kitchen to grab another Delirium.
Is that a good idea?his wolf asked in a bored voice.
“Fuck off, furball,” Ronin said out loud. “You’re the reason I need it.”
His wolf snarled, and Ronin headed to the bathroom to get ready for hisdate.
Amatu fucking spare him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mireille lingered across from Riashi’s, trying to will her feet into motion.
She rubbed her sweaty palms on her wool jacket, and up the street movement caught her eye. Her palms dampened further at the sight of the lone figure stalking through the snow.
Ronin moved like a knife through water, the blistering wind doing nothing to slow his pace. He prowled as if on the hunt.
He’s hunting for us, her wolf whispered with a quiver of excitement.
Since when haveyouever been excited about a job?Mireille asked.
The most she ever got from her wolf during assignments was a sort of begrudging obedience, only coming to the surface when Mireille needed to call upon her strength or sense of smell. Or to bring her out to shred through a throat. Her wolf rarely paid attention when Mireille’s assignments had necessitated a more intimate type of spycraft.
Run,her wolf begged.Maybe he’ll chase us.
Mireille snorted.You’d let him catch us.
Damn straight, I would.
