“Azrames,” the woman purred, pearly teeth biting into her painted lips with sensual intentionality.
The entire group, armed with our sigils, witnessed his seizing.
Confusion sent the rest of us reeling. We needed to remain silent and cool while still responding to the obvious presence of another being who belonged firmly behind the veil. The fact that neither Az nor Silas had identified the woman as a supernatural threat before she was on top of us did nothing for my sense of calm.
She kept her fingers on his arm as she looked over his shoulder at his retinue. “And…my, my. What do we have here?” Her gaze returned to the demon as she asked, “Keeping company with a blasphemous author? We knew you worked closely with a human, but truth be told, this isn’t what I’d been picturing.”
He plucked her fingers gently from his arm, tucking his other hand behind his back as he gave her knuckles the same respectful kiss he’d extended to all of us. “I’m at a disadvantage, I’m afraid.”
His charm knew no bounds. Hell, everything this man did was so fucking sexy. I stood and watched with my jaw on its hinge as I tried to make sense of the interaction.
Priscilla bumped into me, giving me a pointed look before mumbling, “Conversation, conversation, conversation, words, words, words.” She then smacked my shoulder, laughing lightly as if I’d told the most delightful joke in the world. Her attempts to appear conversational while we were all blatantly staring did little to soothe the tension.
My eyes widened with comprehension. We couldn’t stand there dumbfounded. We were in a packed atrium filledwith humans, steps from the auditorium. A statue-still group of fashionistas gawking at a blank space would draw attention.
“Watermelon, watermelon,” I said, if only to communicate that she was right. We had to look occupied.
This probably wasn’t why Azrames had told us we needed a witch on our team, but it sure as hell didn’t hurt.
I laughed back, playing the charade of our joke as the others took our cue. Admittedly, I was not giving the lip-synced chitchat my best effort. I needed to know who had stopped Azrames, and why.
“Oh, you don’t know me? I’m hurt.” The mauve of her lower lip protruded dramatically.
He made a polite bow, giving a winsome, cocky smile as he said, “You’re a goddess, with or without the title. Though, given my inability to spot you, I assume it’s the former.”
I admired his smooth negotiation of unknown waters. He was smart, but that didn’t shock me. Exuding this much charm, he would have made a pretty penny in sex work ifavenging angelever failed him.
“Shri,” she said.
He straightened his back at that. “Shri,” he repeated. “A Sanskrit name with many meanings. Today, they’d tell you it means light, radiance, and beauty. But”—he dragged his eyes over her with complimentary intentionality—“I’m guessing you picked it because it meansluster.”
“Oh.” She squeezed the hand that still held her own. Manicured brows shot skyward. “You are good. Any guesses?”
“Rati, at long last,” he said with another bow. “It’s an honor.”
Well, shit. I recognized the name from my days scouring mythological texts for my next Pantheon book. She was not just a love deity. Azrames was holding hands with the Hindu goddess of love, lust, and carnal pleasure.
I looked over my shoulder to see how Silas had taken the greeting, but he’d gone into a warrior’s stance with his hands clasped behind his back, looking straight ahead as he ignoredthe exchange.
I loved and hated the display before me.
I admired Azrames to his core. And I despised any world where his character was questioned. But maybe that wasn’t what was happening. She didn’t appear angry. In fact…it seemed as though she was hitting on him.
I couldn’t pinpoint the spiking horror as years of mythological studies trickled through my veins. It didn’t quite feel like jealousy. There was an unfamiliar protective energy that urged me to wrap my arms around him, to drag him away, to do everything in my power to position myself between my friend and this literal goddess, but it sourced from nowhere logical. She wasn’t going to eat him—at least, not literally. And even if she did have him in her crosshairs, why should I care? She wouldn’t hurt him, probably. I wasn’t dating him. It couldn’t be the feeling of seeing someone hit on my friend’s partner, as Fauna was no longer in my life.
I shoved her freckles, her copper and silver curls, her irreverent smile out of my mind. My heart ached when I thought of her sweet tooth, the way she’d wrapped me in her arms or tucked me into her side as we’d sat on the couch. My heart bled at the memory of her laugh. I yanked the thoughts out at the root, tossing the weed of my love for her as far as I could fling.
Why should I guard what she’d abandoned? Particularly as she’d spent twenty years away from him, leaving him to patiently restock cookies, hoping she might return. She’d sucked and fucked her way through the realms as an icon of irreverent nonmonogamy. Azrames deserved someone who would show up for him. Someone present. Someone who…
I took an axe to my line of thinking.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I didn’t want to think of Fauna.
Azrames was in the company of the goddess of lust and passion, and that was no one’s business but theirs. At least, that was what I wanted to think.
Maybe I would have believed it if I were a better person.
But I wasn’t.
