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“Only if you promise we will never talk about what just happened in my bed.”
“Deal.” Then he grinned. “Although, I bet Sunday would get off so fucking hard if she knew. Might be worth letting her in on the secret.”
“If we ever see her again,” I murmured as I pulled on a pair of boxers.
“Don’t fucking talk like that. We’re getting her back. She is ours. If I have to stake that fucking priest myself, she’s coming home with us. We aren’t losing her. We’ve lost too much already.”
The mood in the room changed instantly in the wake of his fiercely determined statement. God, we’d lost more than we’d won at this point. I’d forced myself not to think of Rosie, used my need for Sunday to distract me from the hole in my chest left by the loss of her and now my sister.
Kingston put his hand on my shoulder. “I know. I’m grieving too. But being sad doesn’t help anyone, especially those it’s too late to save. All we can do is find a way to end this.”
“Saving the world seems like the best sort of vengeance, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck yes, it does.”
“It’s a good thing we have a date with an archangel, then. If it’s biblical intervention we need, he will be the one to provide it.”
“Ah yes, our good buddy Gabe. Can’t wait.”
We stood there in silence, letting the determination to get our mate back sit heavy between us. Then I cocked my head and stared at Kingston.
“You really thought I was fucking some girl in here?”
He shrugged. “It seemed out of character, especially since you’re... you. But I heard sex noises.”
“And so you decided to what, come running? Is that like your mating call or something?”
“I figured it was either porn, or I’d finally have a reason to castrate you. Win-win.”
I shook my head, blowing out a breath. “You really are a wank stain, aren’t you?”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“For fuck’s sake, how old are you?”
Kingston hooked his arm around my neck and pressed a smacking kiss to my forehead. “I’m old enough to fuck our girl and jerk off with you in your bed.”
“I hate you.” He was never going to let me live this down. I still couldn’t believe I agreed to it, but, well, here we were.
“Love you too, Thorne.”
“Get out of my room.” As he headed for the door, I called, “Oh, and Kingston? The next time you hear sex noises coming from behind alockeddoor, stay the fuck out.”
He smirked. “Never gonna happen.” Then the arsehole blew me a kiss and shut the broken door as he left.
ChapterTwenty-Six
KINGSTON
“Are you sure this winged fuckboy is going to show his face?” I asked, staring daggers at Cashel. I shouldn’t have been so edgy, not after blowing my load only a few hours ago, but I was a shitshow as we waited on our last chance at saving the fucking world.
It had been two weeks. Two fucking weeks since Caleb had stolen Sunday. All along, that ass had been right under our noses. Plotting. I never thought it would take us so long to find her. If I’d known... I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself together as long as I had.
And after the week I’d had, the cracks were showing. I wouldn’t make it much longer without her. She was the glue that kept my broken pieces together. Without her, I’d fall apart. Shattered. Broken. Useless.
“You’re not very patient, are you?” Cashel asked, his expression unamused. “I summoned him only five minutes ago. The Messenger of God is not going to drop everything for this.”
“You scheduled the meeting. He shouldn’t have anything else planned.”
