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“Me?”
“They didn’t mention Slash at all.”
“Are you all right?”
Why was he asking that? I already knew that my guys killed, tortured, and ate people. And I – we – still loved them. What some foster mothers said couldn’t be any worse than that. “Yeah, I’m good.” And I was. No panic attacks here.
“Killian.”
“Seriously. Daemon kinda scared the shit out of them.”
Aeron chuckled, and I relaxed slightly, but I was still worried. “Stay away from them. They broke Slash, nearly broke me too.”
Broke Slash? That didn’t even begin to compute. Aeron was crazy, sure. Samael was violent. And Slash was twisted. But if someone had broken Slash’s spirit once upon a time? I wanted nothing to do with them. “Um… well, they’re back to… fix you. They wanted my help.” I mentally kicked myself, wondering why I couldn’t speak in full sentences. It was as if innocence was still a part of me.
“Excuse me?” I remained silent for a moment too long, Aeron’s tone turning forceful. “Killian.”
“They think you’re forcing me to stay with you. I don’t know what they’re going to do.” I knew exactly what they were going to do. I had met people like that along the way, especially having a mother who was crazier than I was and a detective for a father. These women would do everything in their power to ensure that I was ‘safe.’
But safe didn’t mean in one piece.
It just meant away from them. And like hell was that going to happen.
“Come home. Now.”
“I can’t. I’m at work—”
“I’m calling Samael. Don’t fucking go anywhere.”
Click.
I didn’t even have time to process what just happened.
Shit, K, you messed up. We messed up.
We’re fucked.
I had the good sense not to chuckle this time.
SAMAEL
Slash and Aeron were furious, standing three feet from me in my basement amongst shattered glass and shards of wood. Tensions were high, and anger was flowing through the dimly lit room. My hands clenched and unclenched with the urge to throw or beat something, but I wouldn’t lose it around them.
I couldn’t.
“They met up with him?” For the first time in a while, I was terrified. Like bare-bones, skin off my back, terrified at the prospect that someone would rip Killian from me because of a life we three had chosen to live. Those fucking foster mothers were way out of their depth.
Slash kicked one of the larger wooden shards, obviously pissed. “Who the fuck is after us, Samael?”
I pressed my lips together, eyes trained on Slash. He was hanging on by a thread, and this last phone call hadn’t helped. Killian had called him, hoping that he was the safest bet. Slash had, in fact, been the worst bet.
I didn’t know if I was ready to unearth my mountain of problems on these two. They were dealing with enough already, but I knew they could read my expression.
“I told him to come home, but—” Aeron started, but I cut him off.
“We can’t keep upending his life. He’ll be okay at work. I’ve… got someone on him.”
Aeron’s eyebrows rose with concern. “Excuse me?”
