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Teague pursed his lips. “Yeah. And let’s not make it easy for them. It’ll add to their puppeteer’s frustration and prod them to show here. I don’t suppose anyone has any black salt lying around?”
“You’re thinking we should surround our land with it,” guessed Archer.
Teague nodded. Shadowkin were unable to cross black salt. A circle of it—large or small—would form a barrier so potent it would even act as one between realms, preventing shadowkin from entering the camp either by foot or by a shadow they’d hitched on from hell itself.
“I can buy some from—don’t you dare, Dutch.” Archer protectively hugged his bag of mushrooms against his chest. “The little shit just lurched forward to steal my goods. Go lie with Hugo or something,” he told the dog, tipping his chin toward where the old bloodhound was sprawled in front of the fireplace, but Dutch didn’t move.
Teague cleared his throat. “There’s something else we need to discuss. Something you’re not going to like.” He paused. “As of today, I’m playing the part of someone’s boyfriend to keep matchmakers off her back.”
Everyone exchanged looks.
Gideon snickered in amusement. “You? Do you even know how to act like a boyfriend? I mean, do you know what it entails to be one?”
Teague lifted his shoulders. “Not really. I’ll make it up as I go along. It can’t be too hard.”
“You said we wouldn’t like it,” Saxon noted, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”
Teague sat up a little straighter. “Because the woman in question is Knox Thorne’s sentinel.”
A grim silence met his statement.
Finally, Gideon broke it. “This is a joke, right? Of course it is.” He grimaced. “I don’t get it.”
“No joke,” Teague told him.
Slade shook his head fast. “Why would you do this? There’s a lot we need to keep hidden. If she gets even a whiff of any of it, she’ll relay it to her Prime.”
“Larkin’s not gonna find out anything,” Teague stated, confident. “It would require her to get close to me, and she’ll never do that. She’s a person who holds back from everyone outside her circle. I’m not part of it.”
Tucker folded his arms. “She’s hired you to be her fake boyfriend. Doesn’t sound like she considers you an outsider.”
“Firstly, she didn’t hire me—”
“Wait, you’re not even getting paid for this gig?” Tucker’s face scrunched up. “Then why do it?”
“Two reasons. One, it will keep the female hellhorses with baby-fever off my case for a while—I need the break.”
“They are frustrating as all hell,” muttered Slade, who was often pestered by them—they were drawn to the strength he displayed when taking part in the Underground’s pit fights. There, opponents were not allowed to use their preternatural abilities but could otherwise fight as dirty as they liked.
“Two,” Teague went on, “I owe her a debt.”
Tucker shrugged. “So?”
“So I don’t like being indebted to people. Makes me antsy. And Khloë wants me to repay Larkin by doing this for her.”
“Khloë had a hand in this?” Tucker’s lips thinned. “See, this is why I don’t want an anchor. They complicate things. I like shit to be simple.” He looked at Leo. “Would you want to find yours?”
Fiddling with his cap, Leo frowned. “I don’t know. Would she iron my clothes? I hate ironing. If she’d be up for that, maybe.”
“I’m not looking to find mine,” declared Slade, scratching at his short blond hair. “She’d want to know my business. It would be hard to keep any secrets from her.”
“But you’d be able to trust her to keep them,” said Archer, chewing on another mushroom. “Khloë’s never shared Teague’s secrets with anyone. Not even her own mate.”
Gideon let out a sigh of longing. “I miss her. You should bring her to see us again sometime, Teague. She’s the best drinking partner.”
“All right, we’ve wandered off topic,” Saxon interjected before pinning Teague with a skeptical look. “I’m not buying that you agreed to play the part of Leanne’s—”
“Larkin’s,” Teague corrected.
“Yeah, her,” said Saxon, waving off his error. “I’m not buying that you agreed to act as her boyfriend just to put off female hellhorses and wriggle out of being indebted to her. There’s more to this. What?”
Archer lifted a hand like a kid in the classroom. “I’ll bet I know.” He pointed at Teague. “You’re hot for the harpy. You want an excuse to get your hands on her.”
Teague dug his teeth into his lower lip. “Basically, yeah.” And if this was the most he’d ever get to enjoy with Larkin, he was going to let himself have it.
“How long is the gig gonna last?” asked Tucker.
“At the longest, it’ll be five months.”
“Five?” Leo echoed, frowning.
“She’ll bow out way before then,” said Teague, scratching Reggie behind his ear. “She doesn’t like being around me. And she’ll soon feel bad lying to the people she cares for.”
“Why?” asked Archer, his brow knitting.
