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“You’re staring,” she said, half shy maiden, half enchanting temptress.
He took a long lick. “And sampling.”
She slid a leg out from between his and pressed her booted foot against his pec. “Do I meet with your approval?”
“What do you think?” He lowered his hand to stroke his straining fly, the metal teeth soon to split.
Her gaze dropped. “Mmm,” she cooed and nibbled on her bottom lip. “I think—” She gasped, confusing him. A second later, her irises turned glassy, and she peered far beyond him.
He frowned. “Neeka? Carrot?”
Silence greeted him. Was she having a vision? Not knowing what to do, he waited exactly as he was. One minute flowed into another, leaving him in a state of suspended agony. Finally, she blinked into focus, the exhilaration she’d evinced only moments before gone.
“We can steal the ilium from the Astra, but we must leave now,” she stated, already wiggling out from under him.
“Nownow?” he all but roared, nothing else registering.
“Oh, good. You didn’t misunderstand.” Appearing utterly unaffected by what they’d just done—and wouldn’t be finishing—she jumped to her feet, righted her uniform, and held out her hand. The slight tremor nullified him somewhat. “Time is of the essence, and I’ve got to show you something before we confront the big bad.”
“Iam the big bad,” he snapped, flashing to tower in front of her. “And I—you—” His hands fisted and unfisted. What did he mean to say? What, what?
She blinked up at him, vulnerable again. And yet, he also detected a thread of guilt. Why? “Youdowish to fetch the bone, yes? You still plan to resurrect Lore?”
The stolen bone. His wife. The Song of Life. Neeka’s warning computed at last, and he forced himself to nod. Because there were too many unknown variables. Because he needed the oracle far too much for it to be anything other than dangerous. Because he couldn’t discern the truth concerning his forever queen until he brought Lore to life.
Neeka’s shoulders shrank in the slightest bit, making his chest clench. “Thought so.” She brightened up a second later, beaming a smile at him. “Shall we toast to the wisdom of your decision before we go then?”
“We shall not.” He took her hand, twining their fingers. “Know this. I meant what I said. I want all of you. Long-term. I don’t know what I feel for Lore. There’s a chance she played and betrayed me, and if so, she will suffer the consequences.”
The oracle softened, leaning into him, only to stiffen, straighten and pale. “We should go.”
He’d stated his piece. Now he would give her time to think. “Where are we going?”
“Back to Harpina. Sorry, Ruby Fury, but you’ve got to do something you hate. And you aren’t the only one! I’m moving into Roc’s dungeon. But don’t—”
“Worry,” he interjected with a resolved sigh. “I know. You’ve got things covered.”
Azar paced in front of the ilium that rested upon the dresser in his bedroom. His new tracker had collected the piece on his behalf. A situation he hadn’t liked, but he couldn’t deny the results. Even better, the female had a lead on the remaining bones.
“Show yourself, Lore.” He knew she could appear wherever the smallest fragment of her skeletal system happened to be.
She did not show herself.
A mix of frustration and anger scratched at him. A familiar sensation when dealing with the goddess. She loved this game. Had enjoyed it since the beginning when he’d won her skull from a demon prince. Something Azar shouldn’t have done. But he’d been unable to cease pondering the brave beauty he’d slain so ruthlessly. She’d gotten her hooks in him, and he’d been too much of a fool to see it.
He stomped with more force. “Show yourself. Now.”
She didn’t. Because Lore.
He’d read reports of Rathbone’s dealings with Neeka, and there’d been mention of unnamed favors. Apparently, females responded to those. “Show yourself, and I will grant you a boon of your choosing, as long as it doesn’t affect my task.” He’d never lowered himself to bargain with anyone—until her.
As hoped, Lore materialized within seconds. Smirking. “Such an easy mark.”
He ground to a halt. Well. He’d just discovered the downside to such negotiations. They worked.
“Oops, did I say that aloud?” she asked, turning and bending over. “I’m bad and should be spanked.”
His hands balled into fists, as his blood boiled with things he didn’t wish to name. Once, to torment him, she’d disrobed in his presence. Now, no matter how many layers of clothing she wore, he still saw her soft perfection on full display.
