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Shithe was quoting Mean Girls… he really was off his rocker today.
“Oh yeah,it looks so sexy pushed back.”
Ares was caught off guard by his own laughter, giving Bash the opening he needed to pry Ares’ remaining hand from his throat and flip them over, so Ares was on the table. Bash put both of his hands on Ares’ head, and within seconds Ares was screaming. Bash played dirty, so he was probably diving through Ares’ subconscious, showing him clip after clip of him catching Aphrodite fucking other men or his own parents ridiculing him in public. Those were the things that got under his skin the most.
Eventually, Ares broke free and beat the shit out of Bash. Food, shards of glass, porcelain, and blood flew everywhere. Diana screamed as she dodged a bowl of hot oatmeal.
Ares took a piece of avocado toast off of the only remaining intact platter and smashed it in Bash’s face, slapping him with the toast afterward. “Eat your fancy fucking breakfast you uppity, posh wanker,” he teased Bash in a fake British accent.
Mal’s cackling rang throughout the room. He loved watching Bash and Ares destroy everything and anything they could. Diana got up and ran over to stand behind my chair with her felt bag. Smart girl. They would never purposely hurt her, but she could get caught in their crossfire. These two couldn’t go at it to the death but fought like they were. Eventually one of them would tire out and give up.
“Bash, is there something you’d like to tell Diana?” Ares said, right as Bash broke a champagne flute on the table. “How did she get that–” Bash used a broken piece of glass to slit Ares’ throat in a neat curve, from jaw to jaw. Blood from Ares’ neck sprayed all over Bash’s face and sweater, with huge spurts of blood landing on the table and broken dinnerware.
Ares’ psychotic fuckery, Sebastian slitting his throat mid meal, and Malcolm sitting back and feeding off of all the emotions with a smile on his smug face.A typical weekend brunch.Diana would have to grow some thick skin and an iron stomach if she was going to eat at this table. She screamed, running out from behind me and blasting Bash out of the way with a rush of magical energy. It hit him square in the chest, and he flew back to hit the far dining room wall.
“Oh my God! Ares! ARES?!” She cradled him in her lap. Blood squirted all over her cotton t-shirt. She ripped it off–exposing a flimsy lace bra–and pressed it to the slit mark on his blood-soaked throat, trying to staunch the bleeding. “Sebastian, what the fuck is wrong with you?! He was trying to be nice and thoughtful, in his own way. Obviously he isn’t all there–I’ve only known him a day and can see that–you’ve known him forcenturies...”
Bash was already by Diana’s side again, wincing as he knelt down on the floor next to her. “Diana,he kissed you, and you’re mine–” he started.
“–I don’t care. I could have handled it myself!” she interrupted. “Also, this possessiveyou’re mineshit needs to stop. It’s one thing to say it during sex, but outside the bedroom it’s fucking ridiculous. I’m not property!” Diana’s face turned red with frustration as she screamed, trying to put Bash in his place.
I had a feeling she didn’t know Bash had claimed her. Ares knew too, based on what he was trying to ask before his throat was conveniently slit. I caught a quick glance at the scar on Diana’s inner right thigh, and it was indeed Bash’s bite mark.
Bash rolled his eyes at Ares, smacking him on the cheek a few times. “Diana, he’s fine.”
“No he’s not. Look at him, Bash! The poor man is bleeding to death!!!” Mal shouted, causing Diana to start crying. The evil in his eyes was commendable, but so petty. I bet all her sadness and fear were a fucking buffet for him.
“Malcolm, stop it. That’s not fucking funny,” Bash growled.
“Can’t someone do something?” She sobbed.
After everything she went through in the past twenty four hours, I thought she had enough emotional trauma for now. I was about to say something, when Ares nuzzled his face in Diana’s breasts, startling her.
“Oh Little Goddess, don’t cry for me,” Ares rasped to her as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. “The four of us are immortal. I can’t die. But knowing you did your best to save me, and gave me such a beautiful sight to wake up to, means the world to me.” His beard left red marks on the parts of Diana’s breasts not covered in lace.
Diana watched the skin on Ares’ throat knit back together. When it was done, she touched it, testing out its sturdiness. With a ghostly white face, she turned to look at all of us with a dead stare, trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. She stood up, holding her felt bag.
“Good to know you’re all unable to die,” she said in a quiet, shell-shocked voice. “Thank you for the gifts, Ares, and for being so thoughtful. After everything I’ve gone through in the past day, it really helped. Desmond, is there somewhere I can be alone for a while? I don’t want to go back to Sebastian’s suite.”
“What do you mean you don’t want to go back?! You LIVE there!” Bash shouted.
I’d had enough of their bullshit today. They ruined Diana’s first brunch with us and scared her to tears, so I muted them all. I didn’t want to deal with any more drama this morning. “Come with me, we have a lot to discuss, and I can just fill these three in later, when they’re not acting like fools.”
I led her out of the kitchen, my hand on the small of her back. Her skin was scalding hot. Tears flowed down her face once we were further away from everyone. I wanted to hold her and tell her that eventually, everything would be fine. But holding her in my arms, even for a minute to give her the comfort she so desperately deserved, was a risk I couldn’t take. I couldn’t fall for her or form a romantic attachment. She’d just have to rely on her own inner strength to comfort her.
Desmond led me away from the dining room, through a hallway. “While we make the trek to my office, I may as well give you a tour.”
One of his friends literally just fake-killed the other right in front of him, and he acted as if it was completely normal. Who the hell did I get involved with?These guys are crazy.
He showed me a cinema room, home gym, sitting room, and a greenhouse. There were other hallways where he said I could find additional rooms used for a variety of purposes that seemed excessive to me.Who needs all this space anyway?He insisted I use the house like it’s my own, but after what happened over brunch, I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel comfortable here.
As a Sagittarius, I was all for taking things to the limit and living your own adventure, but these men had some serious issues. Sebastian was one of the most possessive men I’d ever met. Part of me cringed every time he saidmine, but another part of me preened knowing he wanted me that badly. No other man had been that into me, that committed, and it felt so good to be wanted. He made it a point to know everything about me, simply because he wanted to know. I loved feeling like I was the center of his world as much as I hated his possessiveness toward me. I couldn’t explain why, but he drew me to him like a magnet. The electricity that thrumbed between us lit me up every time I was near him, and the sex was a complete mind-body experience.
Ares was complete chaos in male form. I barely knew him–and he scared me sometimes–yet I felt this weird connection between us. His mental bag was one hundred percent missing more than a few marbles. The man was the very definition of certifiable, but he was also compassionate. I was floored that he spent all night torturing someone who wanted to hurt me and went back to my house to get the only items of my mother’s I still had. All because he saw them in my memory. Yes, him giving me a severed, charred finger wasn’t normal, but I think that was his way of showing me how much he cared. And as creepy as it was for him to place a dead man’s ring on my finger, I didn’t have the desire to remove it. He barely knew me, yet did more for me than the only man I ever seriously dated. Him hunting me down when we got to the house was fucked up, but he apologized. I could also admit that being chased had been a bit of a turn on. I had played up my feelings about it at the table because sometimes I liked to stir shit up.What is wrong with me?
When Desmond and I reached his office, he sat down behind a sleek, modern desk with a woven iron and tungsten frame and glass top. It made for an intimidating structure. His extreme organization was also off-putting. There were no piles of papers or stacks of books like my desk at home. A closed Mac sat in the center of the table, alongside a single leather bound folio and a fountain tip pen. Everything had a place, and the whole vibe made me feel edgy.
“You’re so organized,” I commented as I lowered myself into the leather chair across from his desk, crossing my ankles.
