Page 34 of Blood and Trouble

“Of course it’s Lycan,” I said. “And I haven’t really talked to him about it yet. It’s…complicated.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “This is amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“What? No! Stop it! This isn’t funny.”

My life was imploding. I’d gotten married. I was about to turn into a were-fox-shifter-sort-of-thing. I had missed four days of meetings and appointments, which would set me back substantially. Hell, there was probably an APB out on me. I’d have to bribe my assistant with a huge raise to rearrange my calendar over the next few days. I’d have to work nights to make up for it.

“Oh my God, this is hilarious. I’m happy you pulled that stick out of your ass.” Her gaze shifted off to the side before she grimaced. “Oh, shit. Oh, no.”

“Is that her?” came my eldest sister’s voice from off camera. “Let me talk to her.” Guin snatched the phone from Maeve. “Ava? How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” I said. “Maeve filled me in.”

“It’s a lot, I know,” she said. “But the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be. Listen, there’s a lot more to the story. Lycan can fill you in on the history between the Bastards and the Bloody Scorpions, but you need to be careful. Stay away from silver. It’s poison for us. Vampires can’t deal with iron, so carry something steel with you. A knife. Steel bullets. Anything.”

“The Bloody Scorpions are vampires?” A lot of our history made more sense now. “Marx?”

Guin nodded. “And Percy, too. Don’t answer any calls from him, and if he shows up in Europe, stay away from him.”

“Percy?” My own brother? A vampire? “How did that happen?”

She admitted it was a long, complicated story, but she was more concerned about me being alone in Europe. “The vampires over there are civilized, for as much as filthy bloodsuckers can be. I know you’re trying to save the company, but promise me you’ll come home if shit hits the fan.”

“I haven’t secured even half of what we need,” I said. “And Scott has agreed to meet me when we go through London.”

“Kodiak said he’s sending backup, but you’re still gravely outnumbered,” she said. “For now, listen to Lycan. If he says run, you run.”

I didn’t have an argument to that. “Okay.”

“As for this alleged marriage,” she said. “I’ll have Pruitt draw up the annulment paperwork. We have thirty days to finalize it.”

When I first woke up, that had been my immediate thought. Yes, get it annulled. No harm, no foul. But now, everything inside me resisted. This new urge rose like a monster, digging in its heels and demanding compliance.

“No,” I sputtered. “No annulment.”

“Excuse me, what?” Her pitch rose, and she blinked. “I must have misheard you in your freshly post-transition delusion. Did you say no annulment?”

Maeve’s high-pitched cackle echoed from somewhere behind Guin.

“No annulment,” I said. “Not yet. I need to figure out some things.”

I’m keeping him, said a new, growly part of my subconscious. He’s mine, and I’m keeping him.

Guin scratched her forehead a few times, squinting with frustration. “We’ll talk when you’re more well-rested.”

“Thanks, Guin. Thanks, Maeve. I needed this.”

My sister smiled. “Take care. Do good work.”

After we hung up, Lycan came out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his pecs and abs. He looked marginally better after the shower, but still not up to his former glory.

“I take it they gave you the rundown?”

“It’s…uh…unbelievable.”

“Understatement.” He bounced his brows and nodded toward the living room. “Get dressed. Locust brought us takeout.”

I put on a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt, Lycan’s by the smell and size of it, and walked into the main area. He sat at the dining room table with a spread of food in front of him—meats, cheeses, fruits, salad. My mouth watered, and my stomach growled.