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He smirks. “Well, it’s in my bowl. It tastes amazing,” he taunts as he takes a mouthful, and I feel my stomach grumble in protest.
“I’m surprised you’re not still tasting your own balls considering how hard I launched them into your throat.” Now it’s my turn to smirk as he scowls at me, and I hear Theseus groan and my mother gasp again.
“Seriously, that is not princess-like behavior.” Surprisingly, both Miller and I roll our eyes at the same time at her scolding.
Before I can say anything else, she puts her body between the two of us, cutting off my view of the asshole who’s eating my home-cooked meal. She helps me shuffle back so I’m leaning on the pillows and then tucks the blankets around my legs. Finally, when she seems happy with her mothering and her successful attempt at heading off our argument—if her smug smile has anything to say—she steps back, and I can see Miller watching us very carefully, but then his eyes widen in surprise as I hear the front door open.
“Hey, that’s my fucking T-shirt.” He points his empty spoon at me as Dad and the rest of his team come into the lounge.
“Really?” I scowl at my mom before plastering on a smirk. “Well, it’s on my body. It feels amazing,” I taunt as I run my hands down the front of it.
* * *
Mom manages to hustle everyone out of the lounge before World War III can break out between Miller and me, but not before Uncle T slips me a gun to put under my pillow. I feel the tension drain out of me at the weight of the metal, and I give him a grateful smile. He just winks and follows everyone out. He and Dad both understand what Katie, Kiki, Flynn, and I have been through, and how even in my own house, I don’t feel safe unless I have access to a weapon. You don’t take out as many people as we have without constantly worrying about retaliation, no matter if it’s done secretly or not.
Mom comes back with my own bowl of mac and cheese, and I desperately want to ask her why I’m wearing Miller’s shirt, and why he was staying with her and Dad, but I’m so freaking tired. The painkillers Theseus gave me have kicked in, and although I still feel the dull remnants of it, they are working their magic for now. I let her fuss over me while I manage to eat half a bowl, and when Dad pokes his head in, I almost face-plant into it, so she takes it away.
“Come on, sweetie. Lie down now and get some rest. After a week or two of me looking after you, you’ll be as good as gold again.” My mother beams at me, and I see my father wince out of the corner of my eye. I haven’t heard any screaming yet, so I guess she’s waiting until our guests leave to unleash on him.
I scoot down, and she tucks me in. “Nope, I only have three days, and then I need to be in Summerville, Georgia, for my next assignment. I’m going to high school,” I tell her, hearing my words slur, and then I see her glare at my father.
He comes over and grabs her by the hand, helping her up. “Come on, Sadeen. Let’s let her rest, and I’ll fill you in.”
She huffs. “You have some explaining to do, Perseus Watson. She can barely walk, let alone go on assignment,” she berates my father as he pulls something out of his pocket then puts it on the bed next to me.
“Oh, my phone that was in my bag.” I struggle to keep my eyes open. “Did you get my rifle?” My mother huffs her disgust and storms out, and my dad leans in and kisses me on the head.
As my eyes drift closed, I hear him whisper, “Of course. I made someone go and get it. Rest now, my fierce warrior princess. Tomorrow will be better.”
* * *
My ringtone drags me out of my deep sleep. Normally I would ignore it, but it’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult, which I set for Katie—my best friend and fellow ghost—so I reach out and drag it to my ear.
“Yeah,” I mumble into it when I swipe across the screen. A soft chuckle has me cracking an eye open. Fuck, I’m on FaceTime.
“Well, well, well, my dear Phantom, I must say you’re looking a little worse for wear.” Katie’s posh English accent grates on my already sensitive nerves, so I flip off the screen. “Daddy says you got your ass handed to you. I never thought I’d see the day.” She’s practically gleeful. “Now you have to do what you agreed to and join the team that took you down. That has to hurt.”
“They don’t want me any more than I want them,” I mutter, not bothering to move because my painkillers have worn off. “We agreed to get through this assignment, and then I’ll be back to ghost status.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” The glee is gone from her voice, and she sounds completely serious—serious enough for me to crack open an eyelid again. “I overheard Dad and Uncle Percy talking. I think both you and your team can kick up a fuss, but as far as they are concerned, it’s a done deal.”
Groaning, I sit up and pick up the phone. “Well, I know that if we don’t get along, they won’t force it, and trust me, we don’t get along. I fed one of them his balls and head stomped another. The team leader looks at me like I’m just a honeytrap and worthless. They were skeptical about my resume too.”
“What does Uncle Percy have you doing with them?”
“Apart from not killing them? We’re trying to break up the supply chain of a sex trafficking ring. I’m going in as a potential victim. Oh, and guess what? I get to go to an actual high school.” I wake up a little bit more at the thought of my next assignment. As much as I love hits, I really love undercover stuff.
“Seriously? Well, I guess that could be fun. Beats that last undercover job you did as the side piece for that arms dealer.”
“Ah, Roman Bannister. That asshole liked to watch his guards fuck me before he would. I’m almost a hundred percent sure he was gay, and the only way he could get it up was by thinking about all the spunk that was already in my pussy before he shoved his dick in.” I shudder at the memory. That was the longest three weeks of my life. “At least some of the guards actually knew what they were doing and I got an orgasm or two out of a couple of them.”
“What’s your new team like?” Katie sounds curious and has a sly look on her face when she asks, “Are any of them hot?”
“Come on, you know the company doesn’t hire ugly agents.” I avoid answering the question, and I know I’ve made a mistake when a knowing grin crosses my cousin’s lips. “Fuck.”
“Maybe I should come out and visit with Uncle Percy and Aunt Sadie. I can keep you company while you recuperate and check out your new team.”
“Nope, no can do. I’m due in Georgia in three days. The bruises are a good cover story since I’m going to be a foster kid who was beat up by their last foster parents. I’ll be living in the halfway house in town. We think that’s where they are getting most of the missing teenagers from.”
