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She shook her head as the chuckles faded. “You sound like Papa.”
“He was prepared, too.”
“I never took him as the paranoid type.”
I frowned at the ground. “Yeah, I never took him as the heart problem type either.”
Solemn silence reigned over the patio, interrupted every so often by the chirp of a bird. I scrubbed the back of my head, sipped my coffee, and then set it aside.
As I steepled my fingers, I focused on Regina, her energy, her calm lips, and bright eyes. “The only instructions we have are to deliver the amulet to Méndez. Do you know what the jewel does?”
She shook her head. “Papa just told me to deliver it to you. That was it.”
That downcast look muted the cosmic gray of her eyes. And that just wasn’t acceptable. She had been through a lot this past week and some change. Add to that, trying to find a vampire who she didn’t truly know while working with her best friend’s dad, who kissed her after it was announced that we were mates…
And that was a recipe for disaster right there.
I cleared my throat. “I know that look.”
She directed her gaze to me. “What look?”
“You’re worried about something.”
“Ah, you’re deflecting. I get it.”
I smirked. “GG, I might have been single for a while, but I can tell when a woman is troubled.” I reached for her hand, running my thumb along the back of her knuckles in long, firm strokes. “So…” I held up the stone. “Black tourmaline for your thoughts?”Softness entered her eyes. A gentle grin stole her lips, turning her depressed demeanor into one of gratitude. To see her respond to me that way did more to my heart than just flutters.
It was practically a heart attack.
She calmly took the stone from my fingers, turning it around like I had just done. “I’ve been thinking about the whole mates thing.”
I hummed. “We can talk about when we get back.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
“About what?”
The frown returned much stronger this time. “Kiki—your daughter.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about that.”
“About what specifically?”
I reflected her frown back at her. “I don’t want her to think I stole her best friend.”
“I don’t want her to think that either.”
“And I don’t feel…”
I stared at how her hand fit snugly into mine—like it belonged there.
Like she belonged to me.
Her fingers curled around mine. “What is it, Eric?”
I met her gaze. How was I supposed to tell her I was suspicious of her association with vampires? They knew her by name. Not just any name, but a nickname that prompted images of power and domination. Mistress. They made her sound like a goddess being worshiped in the underground supernatural circles.
After a deep breath, I shrugged. “Why do they call you Mistress Artemis?”
