"Good morning, brother," I offer dryly.
Kayden grunts something noncommittal and heads straight for the fridge. He grabs one of the blood cartons, pops it open, and drinks straight from it, loud gulps echoing in the quiet kitchen. When he finishes, he shudders like someone downing bad liquor.
"I don't know how you live on this crap," he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Direct contact's always better. More fresh." Then he shoots Sage a bloody grin, his fangs visible, and winks.
She quickly looks away, focusing hard on her coffee like it holds all the answers to the universe.
Something happened between them.
I noticed it as soon as I got back—her clothes from the dryer abandoned on the couch, the door to my study closed when I know I left it open. I'll have to ask Kayden about it, but not right now.
When I left last night, I wasn't sure if I should trust them alone. However, I needed to handle things. The bodies couldn't stay where they were—two men lying dead by the lake is a problem waiting to happen. And I don't want Darius's eyes turning toward Briar Hollow. If half of what Sage said is true, he's not just wealthy but powerful and dangerous, and not above sending supernatural hit squads into the woods to retrieve runaway assets. That kind of attention could blow the quiet sanctuary we've built here to pieces.
Disposing of the bodies wasn't difficult, but it was strange. When I returned to the clearing, the leshy corpses were surrounded by animals: foxes, crows, even a stag in the distance. Vines and roots had already started to pull them under, as if the forest itself had claimed them. Like they'd been there for weeks, not hours. It looked like a twisted fairy tale, since the guys looked more Serbian mafia than Disney princess.
I dragged both bodies to the car and drove them far out, beyond the edge of our borders. Found a bridge, added some rocks, tossed them into the river. The current and cold depths took care of the rest. One loose end remains—their car. We'll have to find it. If they logged their location before arriving, that could be a problem.
On the way back, I stopped at Astrid's. I knew the valkyrie would be up and training outside at four in the morning, hardcore as she is. She didn't ask questions when I told her I needed clothes for someone staying over, just tossed me a duffel bag.
Kayden strolls around the table to the far side where Sage is sitting, yawning and stretching. She deliberately doesn't look at him, but the current between them crackles just as loud, if not louder, than it did before.
I watch him closely as I place a plate with toast in front of Sage. At some point, I'm going to have to ask what the hell he did.
"What's up with the jungle explosion over there?" Kayden says, nodding toward the windowsill. "Not that I'm a green thumb or anything, but I don't remember your plants trying to colonize the kitchen."
I noticed it too—the sudden wildness in the leaves, the thick curling vines that weren't there yesterday. They've practically doubled in size overnight.
"Um, that's me," Sage says, her voice small as she stares into her coffee. "Sometimes I can't… control the effects."
Her cheeks flush a shade of rose that feels far too vivid for just plant growth. There's something more going on, but I don't press.
Kayden arches an eyebrow. "Should we be concerned about other little tricks you've got up your sleeve? Are we going to wake up as moss-covered tree stumps one morning?"
"I make no promises," she mutters, not missing a beat.
She shifts in the tall chair, adjusting her position, and winces. Kayden catches it instantly. His grin turns slow and wicked as he throws her another wink, the glint in his eyes pure mischief. Her glare in return could flay him alive.
"Anyway," she says tightly, trying to recover her footing, "you don't have to worry about me or my powers, since I'm leaving. You promised a lift," she adds, turning to me. Her voice is calm, but there's a flicker of doubt in her eyes, like she's still not convinced we'll actually let her go.
I nod, clear and certain. "Whenever you're ready."
She finishes her breakfast in a hurry, barely tasting it, and soon we're heading out. The morning is shrouded in mist, the aftermath of the storm still clinging to the air.
"I packed two canisters of gasoline—one to refill now, one for the road," I say as we climb into the car.
"Boy Scout Asher. Always prepared," Kayden mutters with a smirk.
"Thank you," Sage says quietly from the back seat, her voice soft. She doesn't meet my eyes. Guilt flickers across her face like a shadow.
I half expect Kayden to slide in beside her, keep the tension simmering. Instead, he takes the passenger seat without a word.
We find her car, a battered Toyota Corolla, easily, just where she described it. Beside it sits the dark BMW the leshy had used.
As I pop the trunk and pull out the gas canister, Kayden strolls over to the vehicles. He lets out a low whistle, then scoffs. "Well, we can do the refill, sweetheart, but I don't think our roadside assistance package covers this."
"What is it?" Sage calls, suddenly tense.
Kayden jerks his thumb toward the Corolla. "Swiss cheese. Your ride's riddled with bullets."
