“Lasagna, Keradoc. It’s lasagna, and it’s what I need from you right now, whether you understand it or not.”
He clamped his mouth shut. Closed his eyes. Muttered a whole string of curses under his breath, some in a language I’d never even heard before. The sound of it, even at a whisper, cast my whole body in goosebumps.
Goosebumps? Really? Since when am I the type of girl who falls apart over a sexy foreign accent?
“We’re also going to need food, water, and clothing,” I continued, straightening my spine and forcing myself to break free of whatever dark fae magick-mojo he’d obviously used on me. “And not the cheap stuff either. I can’t be expected to work magick if I’m not comfortable, protected, and stylish.”
“Stylish?” He scowled and shook his head, but when he finally opened his eyes again, there was no more fury there. The tiniest smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, there and gone again, but his eyes held the ghost of it, glittering mischievously beneath those dark lashes. “Very well. Will there be anything else, little thief?”
Beside me, all three of my guys stiffened at the sudden informality in his tone.
“One last thing,” I said firmly, refusing to show him how that nickname, that tiny bit of teasing was already worming its way into my chest, trying to spark up a little fire that needed to stay cold. “I’m spending the night with my friends.Everynight, actually, for as long as we’re here.”
With a laugh, he said, “Your friends will be sleeping in the dungeons, and trust me—the dungeons are no place for a woman. Especially not a woman whose spellcraft requires her to remain in top form.”
“Top form?” I fisted his fancy, metal-tipped lapels and grinned. “Then I guess you’d better upgrade the boys to the executive suite, Keradoc, because along with fresh bedding, hot bubble baths, and green smoothies spiked with gin, your new favorite drug dealers are an integral part of my self-care regimen. So I suggest you unchain them, hand over the fresh towels, and escort us to those luxury accommodations, or you’re going to find out why everyone says Scorpios are the craziest bitches in the zodiac.”
17
JAX
I’d just settled into a steaming-hot bath in one of the suite’s massive onyx tubs when she appeared in the doorway—my angel of darkness, freshly scrubbed and polished, damp hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head, some kind of short, black lacy little number clinging to her curves.
My heart almost liquified, though I couldn’t say the same for my cock, now standing at full attention beneath the water.
“I should probably apologize for barging in on you,” she said with a dreamy smile, “but I’m not actually sorry to find you naked and wet. Not. At. All.”
“Nor should you be. Damn, angel. Aren’t you a sight for sore—” I grunted as I sat up straight, taking in the sight of her smooth, unmarred skin. “—everything. I take it Saint healed you?”
“Yep. Vampire blood,” she said, shrugging. “Hell—”
“—of a drug.”
“Exactly. So why doyoustill look you fell into a wood chipper?” Her smile faded as she perched on the edge of the tub, her eyes scanning the mess of cuts and gouges on my arms and chest. “He promised me he’d heal you too.”
“Yeah, well. Give him points for trying.”
“Trying isn’t doing.”
I shrugged a shoulder, skimming my palms along the surface of the water. “He annoyed me, so I staked him.”
“Jax!”
“What? It wasn’t a lethal hit—just a jab in the thigh. Believe me, he had it coming.”
“Healwayshas it coming, but…” She swung her bare legs over the edge and dipped them into the water, toes gliding along my thigh. “You two can’t keep going like this.”
“Wanna bet?”
“You went back for him. You could’ve left the Sanctuary with me and Hudson, but you risked your life to go back for him.”
“Don’t read into it, angel. I told you I’d get him out, and I did.”
“Did you see Oona again?” she asked, her voice softening to just above a whisper.
I nodded. “They were both still in the cell, but we split up after I let them out. We all agreed it was best—couldn’t risk her getting caught helping us escape. She’s still a soldier of Midnight—our history doesn’t change that.”
“Do you want to talk about it, or…?”
