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Is my Charming...jealous? “We were friends, nothing more.”
“The William I know doesn’t make friends with women. He draws them into his lair and the next morning they wake up in his bed, thoroughly seduced.” He stalked to the door and opened it, motioning for her to exit. “Let’s go have a chat about his intentions toward you.”
She remained in place. “If I get sick—”
His curse assaulted her ears and she flinched.
“If I get sick,” she repeated, “I’ll heal. I have every time before. It won’t have to damage the good thing we’ve got going.”
“Good thing?” he spat, incredulous. “Keeley, you might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. You’ve made me care, and there’s a very good chance I’ll kill you for it.” He walked away without a backward glance.
Tears welled up with surprising force, stinging as a sudden rain pattered against the window. He was worried. She knew that. And he was drowning in guilt. She knew that, too. A million times he’d asked how he could continue to do this to her, but maybe the real question was: How could she continue to do this to him?
Every couple has problems. They work through them.
We’re stronger than most.
Head high, she strolled into the hallway where an array of boxes was stacked against the walls. Each made from something different. Ebony. Ivory. Marble. Gold. Silver. Jade. The prezzies?
Hands trembling, she opened the one on top—and found a minion’s black heart nestled inside a bed of red velvet. Also a note. From Hades.
As I said. Never again. See you soon. Yours, H
One of the best presents ever, sure, but anger flourished like the flowers in the pots, sprouting thorns rather than petals, and the fortress shook. Deep breath in...out...she crumpled up the note and let it float to the floor. Another deep breath in...out...
The shaking stopped.
Torin returned. “Is that a heart?” He bent down, picked up the paper and stiffened as he read. “Never again what?”
Keeley flashed a large barrel of whiskey into the hall, removed the lid, and began dumping the hearts—boxes, too—inside.
“What are you doing?” Torin asked.
“Can’t you guess?” Regifting.
“What’s he doing?”
“Trying to romance me.” An impossible task.
As still as the most skilled of predators, Torin said, “He’s just begging for a war, isn’t he?”
With her, yes. But she didn’t like the thought of Torin facing off with Hades.
“He’s the one who gave me this body, you know. The previous owner was Persephone, a child of Zeus, but she had died, her spirit moving on. Hades preserved her body because he liked the look of it. And because of my ability to bond, I was the perfect candidate to take it over, but then I became more than he could handle, so he used it to destroy me.” She laughed without humor. “And he thinks I’ll give him another go?” Whiskey splashed over her arms, wet her gown. In went another heart. “There are only so many mistakes one person can forgive, and he reached his limit long ago.”
She had to flash in two more barrels to get rid of all the boxes.
When she finished, she flashed in a Polaroid camera, took a selfie with her middle finger extended, and attached the picture to one of the barrel lids. “Return to sender,” she muttered, flashing each one to the realm where Hades lived.
Swiping her hands together in a gesture of a job well done, she faced Torin. He’d gone pale, and his eyes were tormented.
“I’m not sick,” she assured him.
“That’s not what—” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Never mind.”
He feared something else? She sighed. Will I ever understand him? “William’s waiting, yes?” Determined, she plowed ahead, not really knowing where she was going.
Torin stalked in front of her, changed directions, and led her into a sitting room. As she studied her new surroundings, he strode to the wet bar and poured himself a drink. Four other men, each more beautiful than the last, were positioned in front of her. She recognized William the Ever Randy, aka the Panty Melter, aka the Dark, but not the others.
William sat in a plush red chair, holding a glass of amber liquid, his black hair disheveled and his electric blues glittering. Had he just come from some married woman’s bed?
Probably. Despite the centuries that had passed since she’d last seen him, he hadn’t changed. Sex walking. Or sitting.
The other males stood behind him, flanking his chair. One was bald. One was a blond, and one was a brunette. All were warriors. Clearly. Their bodies had been chiseled on the battlefield, and in their eyes swirled horrors no person should ever have to see.
Several of the Lords and their women were also present. They were scattered throughout the room.
“Keeleycael,” William acknowledged, his voice smooth and rich. Even more decadent than before. His wicked gaze traveled over her, stripping away her clothing, she was sure. He was a born seducer, simply couldn’t help himself. “You’re looking quite luscious this afternoon.”
“As I do every afternoon, evening and morning.” Confidence was as much a weapon as a sword. Not that she needed a weapon against William, but a girl had to keep her arsenal freshly polished.
“Liking her more and more,” the redheaded Harpy named Kaia said.
Her man, Strider, dragged her away, muttering, “Told you one word would get you evicted.”
