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Winter released Fox and leaned forward to glare at his brother. “Apparently you weren’t listening. He said there are a dozen Aiden portraits. Invisible or not, how the hell do you expect me to carry them out of there?”
“And not all were done on canvas. I was still experimenting on poplar wood panels at that stage. At least four were quite large,” Ronan admitted. “Some can be rolled up, but not all.”
“Fire,” Fox simply said.
“What?” At least three people screeched, making Ronan wince. He really didn’t want this conversation to grow loud enough to capture the attention of Marcus or Aiden.
“Fire?” Rafe repeated.
“Sure. Winter sneaks in and sets fire to the paintings of Aiden before they can be auctioned off. At the same time, Ethan hacks into Christie’s database and deletes the photos that were taken of the paintings, effectively erasing them from existence.” Fox winced at the end and looked up at Ronan. “Sorry.”
Ronan shook his head, waving off his apology. Losing the paintings was fine with him if it meant he got to keep the real Aiden with him.
“That would work, except for the fact that Christie’s would have an impressive fire-suppression system to protect all the works of art they store. Also, assuming I can even get that turned off, if I burn the Aiden paintings, there will inevitably be damage to the other priceless works of art,” Winter listed, causing his mate to wince.
“Okay, not fire then,” Fox muttered. Winter wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in.
“What about acid?” River offered.
Ronan groaned and covered his face with one hand.
“Hey! This is how brainstorming works. You throw out ideas until something sticks,” Ethan called out.
“Actually, acid might not be a bad idea,” Bel said. “You don’t need something too toxic. Just strong enough to react to the paint.” He paused and cocked his head as he looked at Ronan, who was peeking out between his fingers. “I’m assuming you used oil-based paint. Just a basic paint thinner would likely work. Winter sneaks in with the acid, applies itcarefullyto the Aiden paintings, and sneaks out again. We just need those paintings destroyed to the point of the face being unrecognizable.”
“Acid sounds like a considerable improvement over fire. Knowing Winter, he’d probably set the entire building on fire,” Rafe mocked.
“Fuck you, Rafe!” Winter snapped. “I know how to set a fire. I got Fox out of Damon’s clutches using one.”
“Yes, and Damon’s little minions were morons. One does have higher expectations for Christie’s.”
Ronan rolled his eyes. This is how most of their discussions devolved, Rafe picking a fight with one of his brothers—usually Winter—and the bickering turned into shouting until Marcus or Aiden reined them back in. He drew a breath to do just that when Rafe suddenly flew forward, stumbling to catch his balance and not land on his face. Behind him, the door burst open, and Marcus’s large body filled the frame.
“Fire and acid,” he stated in a chilly tone.
“Oh shit,” Ethan whispered, seeming to sink behind the monitors on his desk.
Oh, shit is right.Marcus had found them. So much for their covert operation.
“You were going to keep this a secret from me,” he snapped, his eyes locked on his shrinking mate as he stepped farther into the room.
Ronan’s last hope shriveled up and died when Aiden strolled into the room behind him. His sharp eyes drifted over each of his children and their mates before finally coming to settle on Ronan. His expression was unreadable.
“This is entirely my fault,” Ronan claimed as he pushed away from the wall. “Not just the paintings and forgetting about them, but I was the one who went behind your back and asked for Winter’s help. None of them knew what they were getting into. They were just trying to protect—”
“You,” Aiden broke in, pointing at Ronan. “With me.”
The king of the American vampires turned on his heel and marched out of the room. That was a clear sign that he was truly pissed and needed to yell at Ronan, but he didn’t want to do it in front of his sons. Not that Ronan blamed him. He should have gone directly to Aiden, but he’d not wanted to worry him.
Okay, and maybe he hadn’t wanted Aiden to be disappointed in him. This was such a stupid, newbie vampire mistake to make. He should have known better. These paintings not only put Aiden at risk but all of the Variks. That was one thing that Aiden would not tolerate. He would not do anything that risked the lives of his family.
He walked behind Aiden like a man headed to the gallows. Would he lose Aiden over this? Probably not, but it could become a wedge between them that took years for Ronan to pry out. And he would. He would do anything to win back Aiden’s faith and trust.
His lover slipped into their bedroom and Ronan followed, closing the door behind them. He’d barely sucked in a breath when Aiden grabbed him and kissed him. For a second, Ronan could only stand there stunned, every muscle frozen.
Aiden wasn’t angry?
That thought was enough to get him moving. He pulled Aiden in even tighter and kissed him with everything he had. His heart felt like it was going to burst in his chest. So many centuries with his arms so empty without him. Now he couldn’t hold him often enough, or tight enough. The pressure of his lips, the slide of his tongue along Ronan’s. The kiss wasn’t hungry so much as desperate and maybe even tinged with sadness.
