“What do you have behind your back?” he asked, his brows furrowing.
Oh no.
Not again.
The little girl’s arm whipped around, holding a child-sized pillow and smashed it into his foreboding face.
Then with a delighted scream, she tore off, leaving the pillow behind. “Vivien made me do it!”
I thought we might be beyond this, but the great pillow war raged on between Vivien and Grim. I believe the fight started as a way for her to unwind and focus on something other than the crushing duties of being Master Vampire and dealing with the tragedies and trauma of all the humans who were turned against their will and now learning to navigate a life with fangs.
But neither Vivien nor Grim did anything halfway, and their creative, sometimes almost lethal pillow attacks would come at the most unexpected times.
“That was... weird,” Xander said, his brow deeply furrowed as he stuck his hands in his pockets.
I was going to explain the great pillow war, but standing next to him, after the things we did, robbed me of my voice.
Grim scooped the pillow off the ground and handed it off to one of his employees who walked by. His face now seemed to be made of stone, but his eyes gleamed with a fire that made me very, very concerned.
Chapter 11
The Beast
Because Miranda didn’t reply, I couldn’t be sure if what just happened was actually weird, or if I’d been kept below so long I didn’t observe the normal social practice of swatting each other with pillows.
Would Miranda like that?
Getting used to living above ground among humans was more disconcerting than I ever wanted to admit. I chanced a sideways glance at Miranda. She’d showered off the sweat and sex I was still coated in. It intensified her clean bergamot scent which made my dick twitch even as a warmth spread from the center of my chest.
Instead of her combat clothes, she now wore high-waisted jean shorts, and a black, long-sleeved crop top that displayed a thin band of her taut, glistening stomach. I wanted to drag my tongue along that strip of flesh, but there was no chance of that between Grim’s cock blocking presence, and Miranda being locked down tighter than a bank vault.
She didn’t let a single expression or tell escape her stony expression, and I knew she was doing it on purpose. Miranda’s poker face was top notch, but I was learning to read the small twitches underneath that gave her away.
“Apologies for the interruption,” Grim said through gritted teeth as he stopped before us. “Let us go somewhere where we won’t be interrupted by my wife’s insanity.”
“Good luck with that,” Miranda breathed.
Okay, someone would have to explain the pillow thing to me at some point, but everyone was acting as serious as a heart attack so it would have to wait for now.
Grim led us toward Wolf Town Club, the most exclusive club on the Strip. This early, it was deserted.
I could see why this place was so popular. The centerpiece was a massive 360 degree bar, surrounded by a dance floor that I could feel the ghosts of writhing bodies on. Levels of balconies arose on all sides for those who wished to drink and look down at the fray.
Grim rounded the bar and pulled out a bottle of brown liquor and set it on the bar top.
“Can I offer either of you a nightcap? Seeing as all three of us just got off our duties?” The deep timbre of his voice echoed through the massive empty room.
Grim spent his nights judging souls for the Afterlife. But despite performing his duties, he looked as put together and slick as if he’d just arisen for the day.
I held up a hand. “None for me.” There was no fucking way I could keep my sanity together if I dripped even a drop of booze on my broken brain. Miranda needed to see I’d changed, that I could be whole. No matter what. She needed that stability.
Though we’d fucked like mindless, out of control animals, so we backtracked just a little.
It was hard to be sorry.
Miranda shook her head, declining a drink as well.
Grim shrugged and poured himself a small glass of the stuff, though he didn’t take a sip.
