She laughs, harsh and bitter. “Why should I relocate when you’re the one who sucks?”
“I’m just saying, it seems like the obvious solution when youallegedlycan’t stand being in the same room with someone.”
“Allegedly?”
“Your smart little mouth says one thing, yet here you remain. Taunting me. Glaring at me. Perhaps you’re infatuated with me.”
“Perhapsyou’reinfatuated withme.”
“Not possible, Iassureyou.”
“No?” She leans across the counter, her grin malicious. Then, her sugary sweet voice dripping with mock innocence, “So why are you rocking a hard-on for me?”
“What? You think that’syourdoing?” I huff and shake my head. “Typical. Everything is always about you, isn’t it?”
“No one else is here but Lucinda and Huxley. So unless you’ve got an undisclosed bird fetish, then yeah, I’m taking full credit for the state of affairs between your legs.”
“You tell yourself whatever you need to, love.” I turn away from her and bring up my glamour, burying the monster inside the man.
It only makes her laugh again. “Oh, I see how it is.”
“Glad to hear it. For a moment there, I thought I’d need to draw you a diagram.” Turning back toward her, glamour firmly in place, I make a dismissive gesture toward the entryway. “Run along now, little mortal. The grown-ups have work to do.”
“Whatever.” She hops off the stool, bare feet slapping against the floor. “I’m going to the library to check on Rook.”
“You do that.”
“Happily.”
“Good.”
“Doublegood,” she snaps. “And in the meantime, you can go… I don’t know. Prepare for a call with the commissioner or polish your fancy briefcase or whatever othergrown-upthings need doing.”
She marches away, her birds hopping along behind her, the lingering scent of her desire wrapping me in an invisible choke-hold.
When she reaches the entryway, she turns to look at me over her shoulder, that malicious grin touching her lips again. “Oh, and Draegan?”
For fuck’s sake…
“What now?” I bark.
Her eyes rove down my body, stopping right on my still-hard, still-aching cock. Human, yes, but no less obvious.
“I think your glamour’s broken,” she says, again with the saccharine-sweet innocence. “Is it supposed to be sticking out like that? I mean, not to make you self-conscious or anything, but that lookssuperuncomfortable.”
And with a final know-it-all smirk, the little brat turns on her heel and marches out, once again leaving me to contemplate whether I should ignore her completely, put her out on her arse, or chase her down, throw her over my knee, and spank her until she’s begging me to finally fuck that smart little mouth into submission.
Chapter Thirteen
ROOK
After spending the first part of the evening compiling all the intel on the mages who hurt West, I’m more than ready to get back to work on the Cerridwen Codex. The book itself remains one of the most challenging unsolved mysteries we’ve ever encountered, but my approach to cracking the code is a familiar comfort.
And right now, if there’s anything that can take my mind off the atrocities our little witch endured, it’s the ever-reliable scientific method.
I’ve done the research. Formulated my questions and hypotheses. Made a few initial observations. But we still haven’t been able to open the damn thing.
So my next order of business? Reviewing the feeds on the new security cams I set up in the library last night. The Codex continues to exhibit strange physical properties whenever one of us touches it—a faint purple glow emanating from the cover, alternating flashes of black and purple sparks, an occasional electrical humming noise.
