Page 10 of Paramour of Sin

“Please don’t lace my drink with silver,” Remy requested. “I’ve been on good behavior.”

Gleason glanced at him with a curious look, then shrugged. “We’ll see.”

I smiled. “He doesn’t have silver powder. You’ll be fine.”

“Will he, though?” Gleason deadpanned. “Not wise to make promises you can’t control, Gwen.”

“I miss Heaven,” Xai decided out loud, heading for the door. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be outside, admiring the smog-induced sky.”

“It’s not that bad,” Eve called after him.

“It’s not home, Evangeline,” he returned.

“He’s welcome to go back there,” I said, meaning it. “I won’t miss him.”

Eve gave me a look. “I might.”

“You’d get over him.”

“Have I ever gotten over him?” she countered.

I sighed. “No. A failure I take responsibility for as your wing-girl.”

Eve nodded. “Yes. It really is your fault, isn’t it?”

She didn’t really mean it, as was evidenced by the twinkle in her eye, but I agreed with my own solemn nod. Then we giggled and Gleason rolled his eyes. Remy, however, stood fascinated by the sight. Like he’d never seen girls converse before.

Or perhaps he’d never witnessed Eve relax.

She was an intimidating Fallen angel. But she didn’t scare me. Unless she had a blade—which she had thankfully stowed for now.

“You know you’re not off the hook on the whole Zeb and Zane convo, right?” she asked, as she wandered over to supervise Gleason making drinks. “I want to know everything, Gwen.”

“There’s not a lot to tell,” I promised her.

But I’d give her the quick summary.

Which really only included some details on kissing Zeb here and there.

And maybe I’d tell her about my waning attraction to Zane, too.

Then I’d demand to know about what happened with Xai.

Afterward, I’d decide if he could live or not.

Not that I could actually kill him. But a succubus could dream.

Chapter Four

Zebulon

“You called for me, my lord?” Zane’s voice reverberated through my bed chamber, the incubus well-versed in the art of sensualizing his tones.

Tax had found too many auras at the crime scene to be truly helpful. Which I’d expected would happen given the location of the body. So I’d summoned Zane shortly after, knowing I needed his assistance and an outlet for my frustration.

I finished removing my shirt before stepping out of my closet. Zane knelt near the closed door, his dark head bent in requisite reverence. “How many times will I have to repeat myself regarding formalities in my bedroom?” I asked him on a sigh that would make most cringe.

But not the playful male on the floor.