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“If you can’t kiss me, you can’t think of my boobs.”
Slowly … so slowly it made him ache … Nero looked up at her. His eyes caught the curve of her breasts, and he was suddenly very hungry for something else.
For her.
For his mate.
He’d done it to himself.
Why was he sitting there thinking about boobs? What was he? Twelve? With a sigh, he shook his head. “Eat your pancakes. We’re burning daylight.”
As he expected, using her words against her worked wonders.
Valentine started to eat her meal. “Waffles would be better.”
Nero tried not to be amused by just how adorable his mate was. They ate in silence, and Valentine didn’t speak to him again until they were back in the truck and heading toward the interstate.
Of course, that meant they hadn’t done much planning. “So,” he said. “I figured we should start with the nearest property your father owns.”
“New Orleans,” she said. “But honestly, I think we should go to his favorite spot. Not the closest.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I know the council has a place there. In New York. They don’t have anything in New Orleans.”
He frowned. “You’d think it would be the vampire capital of the world.”
“It sort of is, but that’s why they don’t have a place there. Vamps go there to blow off steam or live their lives. If the council ever had a spot there, all they would ever do is have exposure hearings.”
“Exposure hearings?”
“They summon you and give you shit for exposing, or almost exposing, the existence of vampires to humans. The vamp population is so dense that everyone there just assumes vamps are real.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Note to self: never go there.”
“I think we need to go to New York City,” she said as if he weren’t in the truck with her.
His jaw dropped down. “That’s going to take forever.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you offered to take me.”
Despite himself, he laughed. What else was there to do but chuckle because she was right?
Just like Atlas had been.
NINE
VALENTINE
“Lil, it’s me. Again. I don’t even know how many messages I’ve left you at this point, but I do know you must be listening to them because your mailbox isn’t full. That means you are listening to my messages. You know how freaked out I am, but you’re still choosing not to call me. That’s mean. I didn’t do anything to deserve this cold behavior. I’m so disappointed.”
She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “See? Now you’ve made me go all Ceecee on you. Just call me back. Text me. Post something on social media. Just anything that lets me know you are okay.”
Valentine ended the call and sighed, leaning her head back into the seat.
“The worst thing is someone could be listening to her messages, but it doesn’t mean it’s her. It could be our father. It could be that creep, Nikolas. Maybe Lilliane has a magical mailbox that never gets full.”
“I don’t think those exist.”
