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Wynter exhaled heavily, setting her glass back on the table. “Maybe. I wish he’d just attack me already so we can put him out of commission and be done with it.”
“I’d personally much rather he attacked Cain, since your dude has a better chance of killing Saul than you do,” said Delilah. “I also think . . .” Her nose wrinkled as a pungent smell wafted through the open window. Grumbling to herself, she pushed out of her seat and stormed over to the window. “Hattie, you promised you’d stop smoking that shit.”
“How else is an old lady supposed to relax?” asked Hattie from outside.
“I can think of a lot of ways that don’t involve smoking a joint,” said Delilah.
“They’re good for the soul,” claimed Hattie.
“They’re bad for your lungs.”
“My lungs are just fine, thank you very—Dammit, now I’ve got ash on my book.”
Delilah huffed. “It serves you right.” She closed the window and grabbed the cannister of air freshener from the cupboard beneath the sink, muttering beneath her breath.
Wynter arched a brow. “You do realize she’s only sitting out there so she can ogle the guards, right?”
“Oh, I know.” Delilah sprayed the air freshener, filling the room with the scent of lavender. “They don’t, though. They’ve fallen hard for the helpless, frail old woman act. And they adore her because she’s always plying them with free baked goods. They don’t realize that those goods do actually come with a price attached—they’re being constantly objectified.”
“George just thinks she’s being kind to them,” said Anabel, dumping her spoon in her empty bowl. “He has no clue that his woman is a perve.”
Delilah snorted, retaking her seat at the table. “Oh, I think he has some idea, considering the kinky stuff they get up to. I love that they’re so unashamed of it.”
“That’s how it should be.” Xavier ate the last of his sandwich. “It doesn’t always work out that way, though. My brother is convinced that anyone who’s into BDSM must have had a traumatic childhood and needs therapy. He said some cruel shit to me when my ex told him I used a paddle on her ass, like that’s even a big deal.”
“You don’t have a brother,” said Wynter. “You have a younger sister—that’s it.”
Shooting her a sour look, Xavier licked a crumb from his lip. “I hate how good your memory is.”
Her mouth tight, Delilah threw up her hands. “Why say it if it isn’t true? Seriously?”
“Maybe your bafflement is a balm to my soul,” he replied.
Delilah made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat.
Anabel flinched and hunched her shoulders. “Jesus, who’s whistling?”
“No one,” said Wynter. “You’re hearing things. Again.” She lifted her arms in the air to do a long, languid stretch.
Delilah’s eyes fell on Wynter’s wrist. “Given the serpent on that seal, Cain’s affinity for snakes, and those reptilian eyes his creature has, I’d say it’s got to be a serpent. Do you think your monster would stand a chance against it?”
Frowning, Wynter lowered her arms. “I’ve never even thought about it. Thanks for putting the horrible idea in my head.” The thought of the two monsters turning on each other . . . no, Wynter didn’t want to entertain it.
“So yours isn’t, like, possessive of his or anything?” asked Anabel.
Wynter shook her head. “It doesn’t consider him or his creature a threat to me, which is probably the best I’ll get.”
“His monster sure seemed fond of you,” said Xavier. “It rubbed its nose against yours and nuzzled your neck. Which should have looked sweet, but that thing gives off way too much menace to ever pull off ‘sweet.’”
At the time, she’d thought that the creature had simply been testing her, but . . . “Cain said it wants to keep me.”
“So it cares about you?” asked Anabel.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.” Wynter couldn’t really speculate much aloud without revealing details that Cain had trusted her to keep to herself. There was something he hadn’t asked her to stay quiet about, though. And it was time she told them. “Listen, there’s something I need to talk to you about. I’ve hesitated because I wasn’t sure what to do, and I worried you’d all take it badly that I was considering it.”
“Okay,” said Xavier, straightening in his seat, all curiosity. “What’s up?”
Wynter bit into the inside of her cheek.
