“Weary of your punishments already?” he teased.
“I kind of love how your idea of punishing me is giving me the most epic orgasm of the century.” She adjusted the pillow beneath her head and sighed. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Exhausted.” Gabriel laughed. “And you?”
“Just trying to figure out what’s so damn funny all of a sudden.”
He rolled back on top of her and lowered his mouth to her earlobe, capturing it between his teeth. With a soft growl, he said, “What’s funny, little moonflower, is that you think one epic orgasm of the century means I’m anywherenearfinished with you.”
Chapter Nine
By the time the late-morning sun roused Gabriel from a dark and dreamless sleep, Jacinda and the rest of his family were already gathered in the Ravenswood kitchen, the remnants of a monstrous pancakes-and-bacon breakfast scattered across the table, all of them laughing at something Cole had just said.
A welcome sight.
“The stoner wolf returns to the land of the living,” Gabriel said. He’d meant it as a joke, but his voice broke at the end, an unexpected surge of emotion tightening his throat.
“Good as new and twice as handsome.” Cole raked a hand through his scraggly hair, revealing an angry red scar on the left side of his forehead, slicing down through the eyebrow. “Jacinda tells me the ladies love a man with sexy battle scars. It’s a good thing, too, 'cause I got about a dozen more in places that ain’t suitable to show at the breakfast table. But if you ask merealnice—”
“Total health code violation,” Charlotte said. Then, to Gabriel, “Be grateful you slept in. Took Dorian half the morning to wrestle him into his pants.”
“A traumatic experience I’m still trying to scrub from my memory,” Dorian said.
Cole laughed. “You two never let me have any fun.”
Gabriel nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to share in their laughter. It was his damn fault the wolf had been captured. Tortured. Carved up like a fucking pot roast. If not for Jacinda’s quick thinking and absolute disregard for her own safety, the wolf would probably be dead.
“You and little miss hot-pants over here saved my ass,” Cole said, winking at Jacinda across the table. When he looked up at Gabriel again, his face was stern and serious. “So whatever bullshit story’s runnin’ through your skull, Little Red, let it go.”
The wolf held Gabriel’s gaze for a beat, making him hot and uncomfortable. Didn’t matter what Cole said. Logic wasn’t a remedy for guilt—not in the hundreds of years Gabriel had been trying to make it so, and certainly not today.
Still, he smiled and smacked Cole on the back, then took a seat next to Jacinda and grabbed her fork, spearing a blueberry pancake she’d abandoned on her plate.
“Cole’s right, Gabriel,” Isabelle said over the rim of her teacup. “You and Jacinda saved his life.”
“Seems to me you and Colin had a role in that as well,” Gabriel said. “Cole was a hell of a lot uglier when we brought him in yesterday. Well, uglier than usual.”
“Cole’s condition has improved tenfold,” she said. “He’s getting stronger by the hour.”
“Damn straight I am.” Cole curled his hand around the side of his mouth, pretending to whisper. “If only Nurse Ratchet here’d serve me my breakfast of choice, my condition would be perfect.”
“Whiskey and cigarettes aren’t breakfast,” the witch said. “Especially for a wolf who spent the last few days getting pumped full of silver.”
“Yeah, zero stars on that one,” Cole said with another laugh. “Donotrecommend.”
Gabriel glanced around the room, noticing a few faces missing from the group. Colin’s absence wasn’t unusual—on the occasions he visited Ravenswood, he spent most of his time down in the crypts in their father’s old laboratory. But Aiden and Sasha had become a somewhat permanent fixture around the breakfast nook, especially now that Charlotte was living here.
“Vampire Ken and Underage Barbie aren’t joining us this morning?” he asked.
“Sasha just got back from a ski trip with her roommate,” Charlotte said. “She’ll be here tomorrow morning, weather permitting. Aiden’s keeping Colin company in the crypts. They’re monitoring Duchanes and reading through some of your father’s journals.”
“Dear Diary,” Gabriel mocked, shoveling in another mouthful of pancake. “Today I frightened off some children at the park, stole an old woman’s diabetes medication, and bit off the head of a live barn owl. Sadly, I still haven’t received my #1 Supervillain medallion from the Association of Deplorable Twats.”
Dorian rose from the table and headed for the fridge, retrieving two bottles of blood. Passing one to Gabriel, he said, “They’re looking for more intel on Azerius.”
Azerius. The very name sent a shudder down Gabriel’s spine.
They’d first learned about the demon a couple of months ago when Charlotte discovered an ancient dagger hidden in one of Dorian’s sculptures. An expert in art and antiquities, she’d thought it was Russian in origin, but after piecing together some of the demonic lore from Isabelle and the cryptic notes Augustus had left behind, they learned the truth. The dagger was actually a hell-forged weapon crafted by a demon called Azerius—a demon whom Augustus had called upon centuries earlier for help usurping the throne from House Kendrick.
