“Ro,” Gideon’s disembodied voice wafts out from the kitchen, where the water is running, and the clink of glassware means he’s still washing dishes and no doubt planning a coup.
“Sorry. What I meant to say is that if she tries anything, then Jamie can challenge her and boom, splat, aahhhhhhh.” He ends his high-pitched sound effects with jazz hands and then a thumb across his throat.
“Why do I even try?” Gideon says again, slamming a pot on the counter.
Elysia chuckles, whispering in her partner’s ear. “I feel the same way sometimes.”
Cracking his neck to relieve the tension that sits there every waking and sleeping moment, Jay finally agrees. “Okay. But I want regular check-ins. And I want your phone on when you’re around her, recording everything. Better yet, if you can avoid it, try not to be alone with her at all.”
“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.” Finn opens his email. “Antonio is arranging for a joint Were-Magical review based on our concerns that his schedule is intense and keeping Grayson from his family and other obligations. He’ll file a motion with the school’s administration first thing, and let them know Nix is coming.”
“Excellent.” Ignatius grins, rubbing his hands together.
Grayson is fast learning that the action means he is relishing some drama, about to drop a bomb—metaphorical or literal—or just warming his hands for a masterful feat of magic. He hopes to be that underestimated when he’s in his sixties, because despite the 1940s gumshoe suits and wild Albert Einstein hair, Ignatius Parvolio is a fucking badass.
With colored sparks from his fingers lighting up his gleeful face, he looks at Nix, his new best friend and partner-in-crime. “Shall we have fireworks now?”
“No!” All voices but Nix and Ignatius fill the quiet. Even Luca shakes his head, disappearing back into the kitchen like a frightened squirrel.
Nix settles for a game of Sparkler Charades once Luca finishes the dishes and Leo digs a pack of sparklers out of his birthday party supplies.
Grayson doesn’t tell the others that his mentor is cheating, the wily man prolonging his glowing words longer than the light would otherwise last, so he and Nix win. Leo and Luca, who—for as much as they can write a perfect lyric and melody—can’t agree on the correct spelling ofavalancheand don’t score a single point, finally devolve into a chase that tips them both into the heated pool, clothes and all.
Nimue and Elysia don’t comment on the cheating—which they can surely see—or the shrieking, already accustomed to the Rhodes Pack chaos. They’re absorbed in deep conversation with Finn and Jay about the hospital and record label.
Rowan, tired of being a man, lies with his wolfy head on Jay’s bare feet, occasionally drooling and twitching, asleep even with all the noise. Grayson thinks it’s so Jay will rub his ears and give him the attention he always craves but can never ask for.
For his part, Grayson sits quietly, absorbing the night of laughter with his found family, wondering if tomorrow will turn into the absolute shitshow his intuition says it will. Or if by some Goddess-divined miracle, they’ll make it home in time to bathe his kids, read them a story, and maybe, if he’s lucky…he’llgetlucky.
Nix
Nix can feel a warm hand in his when he opens his eyes. He knows it’s Grayson because it’s not cooler than his own, and there’s a single callus on his index finger where he holds his paintbrush.
He’d gone to sleep with Finn’s knot still pulsing inside him, but somehow, after all that happened, what he’d needed more than anything was Grayson’s hand in his to fall asleep.
Grayson’s teacher violating his soulmate’s autonomy has forced Nix to remember things he usually only drags out in therapy—memories he’s been working through, yes, but ones that still fill him with impotent rage.
After an amazing dinner, he’d smiled and played games with Ignatius, loving that his new friend relished getting away with being sneaky (cheating) as much as Nix did. He’d even chased Rowan around the yard. Still, it hadn’t been enough to distract him—not from the restless urge to creep away once the others had fallen asleep. His wolf wanted to track down Dahlia Kirwan and show her exactly what it meant to interfere with his pack. To remind her there were consequences beyond the law.
Karma had a name, and it was Nix Rhodes.
Gideon seemed to know what he’d been planning, or maybe it was that he, too, had thoughts about reminding her of her moral obligations to her students. After a not-so-covertdiscussion in the kitchen when Nix felt their eyes on him, Finn had become his shadow.
Shortly after the taillights of their allies’ taxi had disappeared down the drive, Finn had put Nix on his back in the upstairs nest, where his unique brand of physical and mental seduction had finally worked to calm Nix’s wolf’s suppressed rage.
Who knew orgasms could be as much mental as physical? Dr. Finn Merritt, that’s who.
Grayson had slipped in beside him not long after, warm palm and firm lips pressed to his bare shoulder, still smelling of oil paint, and it had finally eased Nix into a deep sleep.
Until he’d felt that weird pulling in their soul. The kind he feels when Grayson shares his dreams of places and times where their soul has lived other lives.
But this isn’t a dream, not like the others.
This time, he’s not on a rampart with wind he can’t feel in his hair. This time, he’s standing in the kitchen of a small apartment. There’s an old-fashioned floral teapot, an empty cup, and a saucer tipped on its side, spilling still-steaming tea over the pristine white countertop so it drips on the floor. The space is so organized that the two items and the mess are incongruous with the otherwise fastidious space.
A phone rings in another room. Two short rings and then it stops.
Turning his head, Nix sees Grayson in his paint-splattered black tank top and grey sweats.
