Suppressing a full-body shudder, I fix my arms close to my sides and abandon my ghost form. Every single one of those things will fry when I glide through them. It’s only a matter of time. We’ll be replacing them constantly.
How is the Arcanaeum even powering all of this?
The building helpfully nudges my attention to the roof, where brand new solar panels have been installed on the Welsh slate. There’s no sun here, but there must be enough diffused light to produce energy. Of course, the fog is probably impacting their efficacy, but there are so many that I doubt it’s an issue.
“We are going to talk about this later,” I hiss under my breath.
“Later,” Pierce agrees, misinterpreting my threat as being aimed at him. “I take it my room is up there?”
He’s already heading for the staircase along the far wall, shrugging off his suit jacket as he goes, followed by his tie.
Artfully dishevelled is a good look on him, but his posture is stiff and uninviting, so I force my gaze away.
“Make yourself at home,” I grumble as he disappears.
The Arcanaeum distracts me by tugging me up to the clock room.
I dread to think what awaits me up here, but as I rematerialise in the middle of the room, I relax incrementally.
Some small part of me expected there to be a sex dungeon, or something equally obscene, but that’s not the case.
Sure, the bed is a lot bigger than it was, and the heart-shaped throw pillows are obnoxious, but the essence of my room remains the same. The belfry above is hidden by a fresco of starlit clouds. My armchair has been replaced by a modern monstrosity, which promises to swallow me so completely that I never want to leave.
“I suppose you think this is terribly clever.” I cross my arms over my chest as I address the building.
Far from being quelled, the clock hands whiz around on the four dials with amusement.
“We may as well open a hotel.” I pace the room, ignoring the comfortingthunksof the timekeeping mechanism. “Andwhyare there rings on the headboard? What kind of?—”
In answer, one of my racier reads—one with the alpha heroine staring out of the cover beside her black wolf—appears atop the quilt.
“Just because she tied her men to the bed doesn’t mean I have plans?—”
Another book falls on top. Then another.
All of them containing bondage. And the pile just keeps growing.
“Stop it!” I grumble. “Just because I have a fantasy does not mean?—”
“Fantasy?” Lambert interrupts, his voice too close for comfort. “What fantasy?”
With a snap of my fingers, I summon a throw blanket over the pile that just keeps growing on the bed, then whirl to face him.
“Cute room,” he says, grinning.
He’s ready for the game, I notice, taking in his man bun and his uniform. His jacket is slung over his arm, and in his hand is a familiar piece of paper.
My cheeks blaze with heat.
“Did you send that contract toallof them?” I demand furiously of the shelves on my left. “I cannot believe?—”
“Hey, boss, it’s cool. Don’t worry. I already filled it out, and Google helped with the long words.”
That isnotwhat I’m worried about, and it only gets worse when Lambert pulls me into a hug and adds. “North is filling his out downstairs, and I think Jasper finished his already.”
“Lambert. Stop. Talking.” I take the paper just to silence him, all too aware of the books that are still falling onto the bed behind me. “This wasn’t ready. I was going to…”
I trail off, because the truth is I was mostly finished. All I probably would’ve done was reword some parts. And over-thought it. And maybe ripped it up and never looked at it again.
