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North snorts. “Those were fae that didn’t know what was good for them. Cain and Raven aren’t like that. They know their limits. They’re not trying to unlock the future or read an entire past life.”
I suppose so. I still feel off-kilter about it. It’s just disconcerting to watch the two men as they sit there. They’re barely even breathing, still as statues. If I just walked into the room and found them like this, I’d have a bit of a heart attack.
“You want anything?” North asks. “To drink, I mean?”
He sounds a bit awkward, for the first time a little off-kilter instead of the confident leader that I’ve seen him be the rest of the time. It’s kind of endearing, actually.
I shake my head. “No, I’m okay.”
North nods. “I usually count on Cain to do the small talk.”
“No shit, I hadn’t noticed.”
He snorts in amusement, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Yeah. It’s sweet.
Cain and Raven sit perfectly still for about twenty minutes, and then Raven’s tattoos shift again, and their eyes go back to normal.
“Okay,” Cain says, looking over at Raven, who nods. “We’ve got a starting place. We’ve seen a vision of the building where the Aurora Gem is being held.” He looks over at North. “We’ll need to do more research before we can leave the safe house, figure out the location of the building, but it’s a start.”
I have to admit, that’s pretty damn helpful. If they have a building, that’s a lot more than I’ve been able to get over the last few weeks as I’ve scrambled for a gem.
For the first time, I’m starting to actually feel hopeful.
CHAPTER10
The safe house has a bathroom, so I take a shower while the guys settle in. It’s going to be tight quarters, and I’m tempted to tell them that I’ll take the couch, but I doubt they’ll accept that answer.
This bathroom is nice, I have to admit. There are three towels hanging up, one red, one blue, and one green. I’m guessing the green is North’s and the blue is Raven’s. The red is obviously Cain’s. Even this safe house, cozy as it is, is all tricked out and lovingly decorated. Lots of care went into this place.
There’s even a little painting by the bathroom mirror. It shows a sailboat on the ocean, I think up in Cape Cod or somewhere else in New England.
These guys have such a life carved out for themselves. They have their homes and their history. They communicate without speaking, half the time. How am I supposed to fit into that?
Do I even want to fit into that?
The shower really does help ease some of my aching and anxiety. The water pressure is amazing, and the temperature is just right, nice and hot to ease my aching muscles. There’s a tiny part of me that takes note of how big the shower is—it’s insanely huge—and wants to ask the men if they’d like to join me.
Warm water and three handsome, muscled bodies? It’s a perfect, and tempting, combination.
No, Kiara, for fuck’s sake,I tell myself sternly. My life is in danger, and I need to focus.
And as nice as the shower is, it also gives my mind the chance to race, to second-guess trusting these men. What do I really know about them, after all? Next to nothing. I know their heritage, but that’s about it. I don’t even know what their jobs are.
Clearly, they’re a family. You can see it just in how they interact. But can I trust them when they say that I’m their mate? Really? Sure, they protected me—twice—from bounty hunters, but they took care of those guys easily. It was like watching football players go up against twelve-year-olds. The preteens don’t stand a chance.
But what about when the chips arereallydown? When they’re put in a position where they might actually be in serious trouble? Will they stick by me then?
Nobody ever has.
You’ve never given anyone the chance,another part of me speaks up.
That’s… true. The closest I’ve gotten to anyone in years is, or was, Jason, and look at how well that turned out. So can I really expect them to trust me when I’m not trusting them?
Ugh, it’s like an awful feedback loop. I glare ahead at the tiles, as if it’s a mirror, and I can reflect my own glare back at myself. This is far too complicated. This is not what I signed up for. I signed up for getting my shit together and getting Donovan off my back.
“Thanks for that, universe,” I grumble.
“You all good in there? Need any towels?” Cain asks, rapping on the door.
