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She glanced at him in question as she pushed a stud into each ear. “Something wrong?”
“I feel like I’m being watched.” He scanned the dolls in their frilly dresses. “By a lot of glass eyes.”
She grinned. “That’s why I like them. They freak Malakai out too—his fear kept him from coming into my bedroom when we were kids.” That was hilarious—Malakai, the leader of the Reapers, afraid of dolls? Gold. Pure gold. Jewels continued, “I used to tell him the dolls could talk, and he insisted I was lying.” She slid her feet into a pair of black platform sneakers.
Travis’s eyes flicked to the dolls again. “Can they talk?”
She merely smiled and shrugged.
Travis scanned her room again, avoiding the dolls this time. A framed painting of a giant purple jellybean hung above her four-poster bed. Her nightstand was cluttered with essential oils, a music box shaped like a carousel, and a bunch of bright-colored silicone objects—
“Are those vibrators?” he blurted.
She turned to grab her keys and phone off the dresser. “Yes.”
Travis’s blood electrified, his imagination instantly running wild. “Which is your favorite?” He couldn’t help it, especially not after he’d first walked into this house and glimpsed her nipples—pierced—under that white shirt she was wearing. No bra. And her heart-shaped ass in those painted-on jeans?
Damn.
Jewels snickered. “Whoa there, tiger, I think we’ll wait a bit longer before we discuss that.” She looked him over, a hint of scarlet lingering in her cheeks, her teeth worrying her full bottom lip. “Ready?”
His eyes strayed to the vibrators again—damn, was he weak. “What’s the rose-shaped one do?”
She breezed past him, her face a shade darker than usual. “Let’s go.”
“If you didn’t want me to ask about them, you should’ve hidden them.” He flicked off her bedroom light.
“I don’t mind being asked about them, I just want to keep my secrets a bit longer.”
“Hard to get—I like it.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
He followed her into the black-and-cobalt hallway. The only reason he’d been in her bedroom was because she’d invited him in while she finished getting ready. And the only reason he’d been allowed in at all was because Malakai wasn’t here.
Travis was looking forward to having a few days alone with Jewels to hopefully get to know her better. He’d have to thank Max for getting rid of that asshole. He knew it wasn’t the reason Max had invited Malakai to go with him to Foxhill, but to Travis it was as good a reason as any.
Jewels led the way down to the front door, shoes thumping on creaky floorboards. The house was constantly dark, even in the middle of the day, the narrow maze of hallways and limited amount of windows forcing them to keep the wall sconces lit with enchanted flames.
When they reached the front door, Jewels peeked through the small, grimy window beside it that was cut into the shape of a sickle moon. “Where are the others?”
“Lacey’s in the car. Logan and Sabrine are meeting us there.”
She swung open the door—and grinned. “Finally!” She skipped down the steps, tipping her head back to look at the blue sky. “A warm, sunny day.” She inhaled the fresh air with an audible breath.
Travis pulled the door shut behind him; it was so old, he had to slam it, the warped bottom catching on the threshold. “You like the sun?”
She snickered. “What, just because I’m pale and like the color black, you assumed I was some nocturnal creature that hisses every time someone mentions summer?”
He fought a smile and followed her across the yard. “Guess I was wrong.”
Lace was leaning against the back of the car, cigarette burning in her fingers, her other hand typing on her cell phone. She looked up as they approached. “Aspen said they stopped for a rest at Oaklyn,” she said. She blew a stream of smoke at the sky. “But it’s a straight shot from there to Foxhill.”
“No brawls?” Travis asked.
Lace gave him a crooked smile. “Not yet.”
“Front or back?” Jewels asked her.
