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Dallas’s grin showed all her teeth. “How’d you know?”
Malakai Delaney was having the best dream. The kind that involved multiple women and wet pussy.
Which meant he’d probably be waking up soon with a raging hard-on. Which meant he’d have to whack off. Which meant it must be morning.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
He flipped onto his stomach and grumbled into the pillow. Bent a knee to help with that raging hard-on. Gods—when was the last time he’d taken a girl to his bed?
Bang. Bang. BANG.
His eyes snapped open. “What,” he began, “is going on.”
His giant room was still dark. Through the open curtains, stars glimmered in a clear sky.
The banging began again. Was someone at the bloody door?
He flung the blankets aside and got up, nearly falling over with exhaustion as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
And then he threw the door open and stomped down the hallway. “Anybody going to answer that?” he called into the quiet mansion. He scowled and walked faster. When he spoke again, he amplified his voice with every word. “I have to do everything myself, DON’T IIIII?”
The banging came back.
His bare feet slapped the stairs as he thundered down to the ground floor.
“Whoever it is better fucking run!” he howled. “Because I’m a grumpy son of a bitch, my cock’s half-hard, and I’m horny for blood.”
Travis Devlin stood in the dark front yard of the House of Souls as Max rapped a fist against the solid wood door. Dallas hovered on the steps behind Max, and waiting on the street out front of the house were Lace, Dominic, and Blue, the latter two unable to get past the spells on the gate.
It took a few minutes before they heard the thunder of approaching footsteps.
Yeah, that was Malakai motherfucking Delaney alright.
Travis scowled and shook his head. He was not looking forward to this.
Malakai swung open the door with such force that it blew his shoulder-length hair back. “What?” he gritted out. Max was in the way of Travis getting a good look at the Reaper’s face, but the tone of his voice was a dead giveaway for his irritation.
Travis felt his hands twitch of their own accord. Ever since his botched date with Jewels—his only date, thanks to her dickhead brother—he’d been aching to take it up with Malakai. Not with talking, but with fists.
Max spoke before Malakai had a chance to. “We need a favor.”
The Reaper peered around Max—
And scowled when he spotted Travis. “The answer’s no.” He shut the door—
Max blocked it with a hand. “Listen—”
Malakai stormed through the doorway, eyes flickering into orbs of shining black. “You did not just stop me from closing my own door.”
Travis threw his arms wide in welcome. “You got a bone to pick with me, Malakai, I’m right here!”
He bared his teeth, silver canines gleaming. “You’re not worth my time or Jewels’s.”
Travis scoffed. “It was you, wasn’t it? I knew it. You’re the reason she ghosted me!”
Malakai charged down the steps like a bull. “Say that one more time, Devlin, I dare you.”
“Least you could do is admit it like a grown man.”
