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“Um, guys? Before we go, there’s something you both really should know.” Her gaze was zeroed in on Roth, and then Athon. Only one of them was paying attention to what their girl was saying. “You see, my dad, well, he’s?—”
“We don’t have time for chit-chat. We need to go and get this over with,” Roth’s words came out in an almost snarl as he shot to his feet and strode to the door. He flung it open with a thud against the wall and stepped to the side to reveal the empty hall beyond.
“Fuck, Roth. What crawled up your ass while you were gone earlier? It certainly wasn’t me, that’s for sure. Shame. Stop being a dick, Corazón.” Athon looked at Roth sternly, but Nithe could almost feel the concern which radiated off of him, even as the dragon beneath Nithe’s skin writhed and hissed his displeasure.
Nithe took hold of Jezzie’s hand and tugged her toward the seething mass of whatever the fuck was going on inside the brain of the meat-slab who resembled Roth. But as they went to pass him, Jezzie paused. She reached up one hand and caressed the hard edge of Roth’s tense jaw and the lines creasing the outer edges of his eyes. Before Nithe could react Roth had pulled her in hard against his chest for a punishing kiss. Almost brutal in its intensity and filled with so much heat. Through Jezzie, he felt Roth’s tortured pain, his heated desire and his desperation so intense it was as if he wished to crawl inside her and never leave. Then came the anger, the disgust, the conflict which warred within his head, and he abruptly pulled away, thrusting her from him and back into Nithe’s arms.
Nithe glanced at Athon who looked as confused as he felt, then back at Roth who shook his head and strode out of the room, leaving them to follow with a curt, “Let’s go.”
A sense of foreboding filled his chest with lead as they hurried after him.
They followed Roth through long, well-lit hallways and staircases, their footsteps silent on the flagstones. Elegant paintings adorned gray stone walls of, from what she assumed, was a very large, very old castle, and curved around every sweeping bend. The matching floor was well-worn and smooth beneath her booted feet. It was like something out of a fairy tale. An image skipped through Jezzie’s turbulent thoughts, and she was tempted to stop and look out of one of the tall, thin windows just to see if knights in shining armor were jousting down below. Or if maidens in medieval gowns strolled through a picture-perfect courtyard fluttering their handkerchiefs at potential suitors to show their favor. A silly, fanciful thought, but what the hell, right? Anything to divert her from mentally falling down the dual rabbit holes of Roth’s sudden strange mood and the impending confrontation that was all but guaranteed once they reached their destination.
The corner of her mouth twitched at the irony. Hell, the Devil’s home, was exactly where she was. Thinking of Roth, his behavior was definitely sudden and odd. It was confirmed by Athon’s uncensored thoughts as they raced one after the other along the link, the bond, they shared. She pushed a feeling of calm love and reassurance back to him, his confusion added to hers, but hopefully he felt a little better.
All of a sudden her face was plastered against Roth’s shirt-covered back, and she realized they’d apparently come to a halt. Athon laughed softly. Nithe steadied her as she bounced backwards a step. Even Roth turned his head and gazed down at her, concern and love shone briefly in his eyes and vibrated along the link like an arrow leaving the bow. In a flash it was gone, the sharp quiver of pain as the arrow landed its blow stung deep in her heart, and she knew a dread she’d hoped never to feel again . . .
“There you are, my dears. Right on time. Come here, child.”
A very short, rather stout, matronly old woman stepped right in front of her. She reminded Jezzie of the fairy godmother from the children’s films, only older and with more wrinkles. As the woman’s arms wrapped tight around her in a bone crushing hug, she felt both comfort and confusion. There was more here than met the eye. Bright eyes looked up at her with compassion and a shrewdness which belied her sweet little old lady appearance.
“It’ll be alright, my dear. He needs this as much as you do,” she whispered, before stepping back and releasing her.
“Mrs Briars, this is Jezzie.” Athon was the one to introduce them. Roth just stood there looking moody and impatient. “And this is her other mate, Nithe.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Nithe.” Mrs Briars held out her hand, which Nithe readily accepted.
“The pleasure is mine. What is such a charming woman as yourself doing in a place like this?” Nithe winked at Mrs Briars and threw a cheeky smile to Jezzie.
“I like this one, Jezzie. Keep him around. Head on in. I’ll be around if you need me.” Mrs Briars made her way down the hallway and away from the imposing black double doors Jezzie only just noticed were at Roth’s back. Mrs Briars looked back over her shoulder to check out Nithe’s ass, she tossed a double thumbs at Jezzie in approval, causing a snort of laughter to erupt from Jezzie at the old woman’s unabashed cheekiness.
Shaking her head she looked at each of the guys, but before she could speak Roth grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. Nithe gently took her other hand, for which she smiled thankfully up at him. Always a gentleman. Athon stepped up to cover her back, and after a quick hug from behind, placed his palm on her left shoulder, his fingers fiddled with a few errant strands of her hair which had slipped free of her braid.
“We will discuss this later, Roth,” Nithe growled low in his throat, a hint of his dragon having seeped into his words.
Roth just raised one arrogant brow and pushed open one of the doors, leaving Nithe to open the other, and strode forward. Dragging her with him into the Devil’s lair.
If she’d been expecting open hostility and an angry Lucifer to come charging at her, throwing her immediately out on her ass, she was thankfully mistaken. And yes, it had been high on her list of probable outcomes to be honest. Instead everyone in the room froze as every set of eyes spun their way, smiles were thrown at Athon and Roth, while Jezzie and Nithe received a multitude of reactions. Like the green-eyed guy in the corner who watched her as if awaiting a viper strike, or the brown-eyed guy slouched on the couch who had an almost wicked glint of mischief in his gaze as his lips twisted in an amused smirk. Each one held something different. Confusion, mistrust, worry, cautious welcome, and for each of them the emotions she felt matched what was written on their faces. Each one open, but why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like they knew what she could do. She didn’t pry beyond the surface level, skim reading the room only. But as her power brushed over the tall male with strange white irises rimmed in red, his shoulders shifted as if shaking off a chill, and he straightened from his lean against the wall. Wariness entered his gaze as he searched for the cause of his uneasiness and Jezzie quickly drew her power back into herself to avoid detection. Something which had not happened in a very long time, and definitely not from such a small taste.
“Roth, Athon, welcome home.” The one who reminded her of a sad, but excitable puppy with big brown eyes came bounding over and gave them a bro hug. “Introduce us to the pretty lady and her bodyguard, please? I’m in the mood to make new friends.” He winked, and in the split second it took for his eye to shut and open again Jezzie felt the twisted pain he held locked inside and the chains of a fate he had lost hope of ever escaping. It hit her in the chest with a force which took her breath and left her gasping as if air could no longer sustain her.
“Dante,” Roth warned. “Play nice.” His hand slipped down her wrist and his fingers seemed to curl around hers of their own volition. Either that or he was staking his claim. A thought which brought her comfort and hope, despite his earlier behavior.
“Always, Roth. Especially with such a pretty one.”
The one named Dante seemed to delight in teasing Roth, his true intentions were as platonic as a brotherly hug. Jezzie liked him immensely. She’d always wanted a brother. A sister too. Or either. A sibling, that’s what she’d longed for, but her mother only had one true love and never the two had bumped uglies again since her conception, so her childish wish had remained unfulfilled.
“I’m Jezzie, and this is my mate, Nithe. You already know the other two, obviously.” Jezzie laughed lightly, then looked at him seriously. “Want to be my big brother? Or is that too weird? Like, I always wanted one, and you seem like you’d be a great one to have. You can say no, I won’t be offended. Sometimes I have impulse control issues. Just ask the guys. I’m usually right though. So . . . I’ll just shut up now, shall I?” Jezzie felt her face turn pink, heat warmed her cheeks and she bit her lips together. What the fuck was up with her lately? Word vomit, that’s what. Stupid fucking brain.
“You want me as your brother?” he asked, stunned.
“Well, only if you want. And you may change your mind before the day is done. Won’t blame you,” Jezzie muttered.
Dante leapt forward before she could take another breath and gave her a big bear hug. His arms held on tight as he twirled her around.
“I’d love to be your brother. See that, guys? I’m her brother.” He smirked at Roth and Athon as if he’d just ripped the rug from underneath them as he shook Nithe’s hand. “Nice to meet my brother-in-law.”
“Looks like you’ve now gained three of those, not just one,” Nithe laughed. “Nice to meet you too, Dante.”
