“Do you want to talk about it?” the demon hogging my bed ventures cautiously.
“No.”
“Good,” Marlow replies. “I’d do my best and all, but emotions aren’t exactly my forte.”
Mine either.
I rake a hand through my hair, needing a moment to get myself together. Even though I keep telling myself the last thing I need is a werewolf mate, I’d hate if he were suddenly gone.
I pick up my guitar again, determined to stop thinking of the wolf. “Any requests?”
Iggy perks up but Marlow holds up a hand first. “Yeah, I’ve got one.”
“Lay it on me.”
“What’s really going on with you and Harper?”
Off-key notes fill the air. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Aren’t you supposed to be training me or something?”
“We’ll get to it,” he promises. “I’d rather pry first.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, cut it out.”
“Do you like each other or something?” he wonders casually, but when I chance a glance his way he waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously.
“No!”
“Come on, you can tell me.”
“We barely even know each other,” I point out.
He waves a hand. “We’re both deviants with ‘dark powers.’ You saved my ass from being stuck in the void between planes of existence. I was accused of killing you. Those are bonding experiences. Give me the dirt.”
“There’s nothing happening. No dirt. You’re seeing things.”
“Fine, whatever. You don’t have to tell me. I already figured it out anyway.” Marlow looks entirely too proud of himself as he declares, “Harper’s your mate.”
The guitar slips from my hands and hits the floor. Sorry, guitar. I whip my head toward the demon lounging on my bed. “Oh my god, how did you know?”
He laughs and whoops with delight. “What, seriously? I’mamazing.”
“You said you knew!”
“I was joking.” He shrugs. “But it’s not that weird. I’ve been there before when I got thrown in jail for killing you.”
I wince. “Sorry about that by the way.”
“Eh, it happens. It led me to this gorgeous, sanctimonious wolf who was way too good for me. Remind you of anyone?”
“No,” I lie. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“While I hate to prescribe some kind of order to a universe where reality TV and the turducken exist, maybe sometimes things do work out the way they’re supposed to. If you never faked your death and ran here, I never would have followed you and met Wynn, so all in all, the murder charge was totally worth it.”
Huh. Having a freakin’ fated mate does imply some cosmic force in the universe is looking out for us supernatural folk. But then again, what was the force smoking if it sicced Asher Rowan on me just so I could meet Harper?
Can’t say I’m totally convinced about everything happening for a reason. But it’s kind of nice having someone in the loop about the strange turn my life has taken. Maybe I could tell him the whole truth, the rest of the story I’m afraid to tell Harper.
My fingers drum a nervous rhythm against the bedspread. “What do you know about the necromancer attack that happened in Brighton five years ago?”
