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“No, Ares. try again.” Bash rolled his eyes.
“Sharing with your best friend is caring, and of course you were going to share her at some point?” he asked with hope.
“No, Ares! I said that I’m not required to share anyone I meet with you, but I do so out of the goodness of my heart. The fact that you think you’re entitled to it is beyond annoying.” Bash shook his head and sighed again. I commiserated with him. Sometimes I felt like the things we said to Ares went in one ear and out the other.
“I remember telling you multiple times that you can’t just replay people’s memories without their consent. You’re not allowed to dig through our psyches on a whim.” I cleared my throat to get this debriefing back on track. “We can’t do anything until we find out what’s going on.” I laid the law down, making sure to keep eye contact with Bash.
“I still don’t know how it's okay for Bash to visit her in her dreams, and I can’t find her in real life and see exactly what she is… if you get my drift.” Ares waggled his eyebrows.
“Research,” Sebastian stated tersely. “We need to know our target. I would fancy finding out why I was so drawn to her to begin with.”
“Well, Desmond may know why. Seems he was drawn to her too. Bashy-Boy, do you know that Des kissed her hand, and she felt him up all over her motorcycle as he drove her home?” Ares said, trying his hardest to stir the pot. Sebastian was a possessive, jealous fuck and Ares loved exploiting that to start shit.
“Shut the fuck up Ares,” Bash growled. Mal cackled, watching the show and eating his pizza. He loved to watch them fight.
“And the way Des touched her when she was unconscious. The thoughts he had about her naked body. Tsk tsk tsk. You’re so naughty, Desi. Seems like you’re not the only one with a crush on the Little Goddess, Bash.”
“Stop exaggerating, Ares. I needed her to be in a calm state so I could try to get a better read on her magic. That seemed like a prime opportunity,” I stated flatly, letting him dig his own hole. A hole that he unwittingly dug to my benefit. “Her skin isreallysoft, though. I know you appreciate that in a lover, Bash-a-Smash.”
Sebastian glared at me in challenge, and I leveled him with an intense stare. Ares just had to get his wooden spoon out and stir counter-clockwise. Someone needed to spank him with it so he’d learn to mind his own business.
“I don’t care if she’s cute or how fat her ass is,” Mal’s harsh voice cut through the tension. “She’s already as good as dead. It’s not up to us whether or not she lives or dies, and we’re wasting our time stalking her for intel. I say we just kill her, end this impending shitshow. I don’t feel like suffering Red’s consequences if we don’t succeed. And how are we even going to pull this off? He wants her corpse as proof.”
“Mal, we discussed this,” I said. “Red has to go. He grows more unpredictable everyday. He’s starting to attack his supporters and has been ruining the Underworld. And one day, he’ll turn on us. I suspect Diana could be the key in getting rid of him for good.” There had to be a reason he put a hit on her.
“We can always work out a way to fake her death so she can train here.” Bash had a point.
“You want her in our home, ourfortress?” Mal asked in disgust.
“Great idea, Bash, and sooner rather than later. We aren’t the only ones stalking her for intel. I ran into a reptile shifter who was watching her at her house tonight. Has been for the past two months. Someone else knows about her.” Bash and Ares both looked concerned.
“Or Red put out multiple hits on her,” Mal and Ares said at the same time.
“Jinx, Mal, you owe me a blow job.” Ares winked up at Mal from his spot on the floor.
“Only if you give me one first,” Mal teased back. “Or we can sixty nine. Haven’t done that in a while.”
I cleared my throat again to get everyone back on topic. “Pay attention, fuckwits. Red is too paranoid to have multiple hit crews, although if he did, we’d be less busy. He wouldn’t work with reptile shifters either, they’re not the most discreet or reliable.”
“Regardless, her power bind is broken. She gives off a stronger signature than before–it’s a beacon. Others will feel it, and she’s in danger no matter what.” Bash said, his worry cutting through his usually level tone. “She’s not a secret anymore.”
“We have to move the timeline up.” I didn’t feel good about rushing this. Successful plans needed to be thought out, executed with precision and care. But too much was riding on this for us to lose her.
“I’ll keep an eye on her tonight, make sure she’s safe. We need to work out what the next step is soon,” Sebastian said as he got up to get changed.
Mal picked up another slice of pizza, shaking red pepper flakes on it before folding it and bringing it to his lips. He winked at me before he sank his teeth in, continuing to stare at me with a devious gleam in his eyes as he took a massive bite. My cock stood at attention. It had been too long since I spent the night in Mal’s room. Or maybe Sebastian was influencing my pheromones… or it could be that I was thinking of Diana. I had to keep myself under control. I wasn’t going to let this girl–who I had a funny feeling I was going to have to train–ruin the plan.
I didn’t know who Diana was, or why she was being targeted by someone as cutthroat as Red, but I knew she would be a huge player in our plan.
Clink, clink, clink. Ice cubes tapped against the rocks glass I carried, swirling in dark amber liquid. Toffee and fig notes twirled and danced around my nose. I would recognize the smell of Macallan whiskey anywhere. I stood in a crowded room, in the middle of a raging party. Rock music was blaring through a record player on a high-top table. Bombastic organ and bass notes gave the song a manic, bubbly feel that contrasted with the singer’s raspy voice. Men and women were dancing freely around the room, drinking and smoking to their hearts’ content. Dim mood lighting gave the party a warm, cozy atmosphere. Everyone was dressed in 70s clothing. Baby doll dresses in bright primary colors and loud patterns, flared bell bottoms, tiny crop tops, big lapels, and chunky boots were everywhere. One man had on a maroon paisley suit and a cream dress shirt, his curly hair flowing down to his collarbone. Somehow he seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put a finger on why. He smiled at me as his warm honey eyes lit up.
This must have been a themed party. Waitresses were walking around the room with mirror-trays piled high with shots, tightly rolled joints, and white powder. People sat on the couches, bent over the coffee table cutting up neat, skinny lines. They were taking the 70s theme very seriously here. Across the room, women were giggling around a familiar, tall man with black hair. He gazed my way and excused himself to get out of his crowd of admirers, promptly taking a few steps toward me. It was my Mystery Man. He held my gaze and smirked at me like he was daring me to approach him. He seemed more…devilishthan usual, like he was up to no good. Something about him seemed frenzied, out of place. Color me intrigued, because I desperately wanted to know why. He winked as he strode over to me, linking his arm through mine. He guided me in the direction of a hallway.
“Come with me,” he commanded.
The hallway we walked through was dark, but there was enough light from the main room behind us that some details were visible. The sage green walls were filled with older, grainy photos of the same man and woman. In every photo, they looked so happy together, but one photo stood out to me. The couple was standing on a sandy beach, with the ocean in the background. They held each other in a tight embrace. He had long hair that reached past his ears and a kind smile. He wore no shirt, showing off his lean, muscular chest. She had long feathered hair parted down the middle and wore a vintage, high-waisted bikini. Her beautiful aviators were perched on a long, straight nose that showed off the perfect symmetry of her face.
The further we walked, the longer the hallway seemed to stretch. It rolled around us, like the fun tunnel at an amusement park. Orbs of light floated around just above us, allowing just enough visibility to see where we were going. Each door looked the same: tall, oak-colored, innocuous. When we stopped at the last door on the left, Mystery Man waved his hand across it, opening it with a soft click.
