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“No need for that,” Claire said, flicking her hand, the broken shards of glass lifting up and falling into an open trash bin. “This wasn’t your fault.”
I started toward the door when the taller dragon with the full head of dark brown hair and proud stance stepped in front of me. His figure wasn’t exactly imposing, but his presence was. Like there was an invisible aura around him that pushed outward, demanding attention and respect. He was the kind of guy you didn’t say no to. The one who could likely use his charm to get what he wanted, but force wasn’t out of the question either.
I swallowed. “Yes?”
“Aren’t you curious as to why those vampires were after you?” His voice had a subtle gravel to it, like the sound of a very distant landslide.
“I’m thinking it was a common case of wrong place, wrong time. Happens to me quite a lot, actually.”
He glared at me, wrinkles forming between thick, dark brows. Why did I want to simultaneously shrink back and push forward?
“It seemed pretty targeted to me,” he rebutted, crossing his arms. Great, so he was gorgeous and annoying, the worst kind of combination.
Frankly, I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted to do the same thing I did with all my other problems: run from them. It was likely a one-off thing, and if it wasn’t, then I’d deal with it later. But for now, I had a few episodes of Survivor and a whole bunch of leftovers waiting for me back at home. It was the first time they’d allowed Marvels to compete, so it really wasn’t a season I wanted to miss.
“If anything happens again, I’ll reach out, how about that?” I grabbed my phone. He cocked his head, studying me for a moment before doing the same. We exchanged numbers, and I somehow resisted the temptation of putting a dragon and heart-eye emojis next to his name.
“Are you sure?” he asked as he slipped his phone back into his jeans. “If you feel unsafe, you can come with my brothers and I to our home. You’ll be protected around the clock until we can figure this out.”
I paused, my mind clicking into high gear. His proposition sounded seriously tempting. Being around a bunch of powerful dragons while they kept me safe was much more appealing than going home and lying around in my boxers, picking cookie crumbs off my chest.
Plus, I could spend a little more time with this red-scaled god. Definitely a perk.
…
…
…
“No,” I answered, the decision quickening itself like cement in my gut. Leaving with Damien and his brothers would be acknowledging that something was actually up. That this wasn’t just down to me walking under a ladder or breaking a mirror or having my Mercury be locked in a permanent retrograde. “I can’t. I don’t want to get involved in any of this. I really should be heading home. Thank you, though.”
Damien, to his credit, took my no and simply stepped aside. There was a slight set to his jaw, but it didn’t appear like he was going to put up a fight. I briefly wondered how many other people had said “no” to him before. Could probably count them on one hand.
And with that, I left, stepping out to a beautiful fiery red sun setting across the Pacific Ocean, painting it like an orange-and-red inferno lapping up onto shore, ready to turn us all to ash.
Chapter 6
Sibling Rivalries
Damien
The family gathered in the living room. The last rays of light cast fractured orange-and-red beams through the tall windows that were cut into the smooth stone walls like the gills of a fish. Xavier paced over the thick white rug, leaving a trail of darker-colored threads in his wake. He drank his wine and shook his head.
“A fucking curse. How the hell are we going to handle this?”
“By breaking the curse, duh,” my sister answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
And to her credit, it was.
Xavier rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant. How are we going to break the curse?”
Dawn flipped through the ancient-looking tome she had on her lap. “That’s actually what I’m working on right now. And what are you working on, little brother? Drawing crop circles into the rug?”
He rolled his eyes—again. “You all know I’m not great under stress.”
“You’re a bodyguard for rich Marvels. How the hell are you not great under stress?” Maddox asked, setting down the sandwich he was biting into, crumbs falling onto his blue shorts. He brushed them off onto the floor, which nearly made me light his feet on fire.
Xavier huffed. “Because I’m not stressed when I work. I’m in the zone. But knowing that Warrick is dying from a possibly unbreakable curse in the bedroom upstairs from me is stressful. Sorry if that upsets me.” His nostrils flared. He stared daggers at Maddox.
