“If you see him, tell him he and L.W. are on my shit list.” Thosered lips smiled easily. “But you know me, I’m a forgiver. Especially if it’s L.W.”
Mharta disappeared into the crowd of sophisticates, and Lyric kept going on her own way, squeezing between males in silk suits and females in haute couture. As she went along, she was reminded of how she’d always found Shuli’s house to be stark and way too modern, especially when it came to his taste in art. Then again, if you were going to pack a couple hundred people into these rooms on a regular basis, you might as well leave enough free space to accommodate them.
After she made a circuit of the lower floor, she was about to give up when she glanced to the stairs. The velvet rope was in place, which meant that people were to stay on the first level.
Interesting.
Ducking underneath, she jogged up the white carpeted steps, then went down the hall to the primary bedroom suite. She could scent the red smoke waaay before she got to the door, and she hesitated before knocking. Knowing Shuli, she might be interrupting an orgy—
The panels opened, and her brother was on the other side, like he’d done that for her.
And she didn’t like the look on his grim face.
It couldn’t be theirgranmahmen. She would have gotten a call as well.
“Now’s not a good time,” Rhamp said gruffly. “I told you.”
Looking past him, she saw Shuli and L.W. lying side by side on the big king-sized bed, the former in satin PJs, the latter in hospital scrubs. A drop-down TV the size of a living room rug was blocking most of the view of them, some gunfight banging through the surround sound and drowning out the music from the first floor.
Obviously, the pair of them were going nowhere, even with everything that was happening downstairs—
As soon as Shuli leaned to the side and looked around whatever they were watching, the male came to attention, rising off the pillows he’d been sprawled on. “Lyric…”
L.W. shifted down so he could see under the TV for only a split second. Then he shook his head and went back to whatever they had on.
“We can talk later,” Rhamp said roughly.
Pushing him out of the way, she barged in. “What’s going on here.”
She’d known the three of them for far too long not to recognize the telltale signs they were planning something. Plus the tension was so high, the air in the suite was almost a solid.
“Care for a drink?” Shuli mumbled as he fell back into his recline. “I’d get you one, but I’m far too wasted to be able to stand. Rhamp—grab your sister whatever she wants?”
“She’s not staying,” her twin muttered as he took her by the arm. “Come on, I’ll see you out—”
Lyric yanked her arm free. “The hell you will—”
He glanced at the others. “Sorry about this, I didn’t think she’d show up—”
“Whoa, hold on,” she snapped. “Like I’m your little sister and I’m bugging you while you do big boy things? Screw you, Rhamp.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted her chin. “How refreshing. This a new leaf? ’Cuz going by your expression, I’m thinking it’s a resolution you’re not going to be able to keep.”
Her brother’s head fell back in dramatic fashion. “Your timing is like your taste in lovers. Bad, as usual—”
“Fuck you—”
Rhamp kicked the door shut with a clap. “No, see,youcalled me for help the night before last, and my friends could have died—all because you wanted to make sure your human toy didn’t get recruited and end up on the wrong side—”
“It’s yourjobto huntlessers—”
“To protect the species, Lyric,” he shot back. “Not your little fuckboy—”
The volume on the TV got much, much louder, L.W.’s outstretched arm pointing a remote at the flat-screen. But the guy didn’t otherwise interfere. Likewise, she had the sense that Shuli was content to just sitback and watch the drama. Or maybe “content” was the wrong word—he was looking sick to his stomach.
Goddamn it, the idea that they were both still so injured from the gunfight that they couldn’t go out into the field or to a stupid party made her guilt so much more intense.
