Page 46 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane (Rise of the Resistance #2)

DELILAH

“ Y ou are planning a party for everyone that you hate and you want me to attend?”

I look at him in frustration. “Why is every single male in my life being a first-class asshat today?”

Stomping my foot, I stride to the bar and pour a martini. I down it in a gulp and try not to lose my temper. What happened to wanting to go out on the town and show everyone? Didn’t he want to be all ‘here we are world!’?

I guess he was game until it became real.

He blinks, looking confused. “I’m sorry, what?”

I might have overreacted to his question. I spent most of my day arguing with clones and droids about damned near everything, and I hoped that he’d be easier. From making the rounds with all of my mates and lovers to share my pregnancy announcement to joining the party planning meeting at my house, I’ve been disagreeing with men all day.

Wilde and Sari pretended to be supportive, but I don’t trust it. Constantine was also overly enthusiastic, but it didn’t make it to his eyes. Shea acted like it didn’t matter because he’s upset over the ‘peach incident’ and Mercury was more interested in role-playing pirates. After that, I had the party discussion at my house that made me want to tear my hair out.

I’m over men humoring, patronizing, and reminding me of things I am aware of.

“Every single male in my house, all the other idgits, and now you, are making me want to strangle someone. All of you have stopped conversations to make sure I haven’t taken leave of my senses... It’s making me crazy . Everyone is talking to me as if I’m a slow child. This wasn’t my idea, but I got on board—of course , I’m bloody sure. I said it, didn’t I?”

My shout sends the ferret on my shoulder skittering across the floor. Neither of us noticed his departure because we’re too busy arguing about damned near everything, and I hoped that he’d be easier.

“Woman, how am I supposed to know what you came up with? This is the first sodding time I’ve heard of the damned thing!”

I glare. “You never talk to me like that. What’s crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing!” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Except that I left for two days and I don’t see a shred of evidence that you missed me, much less pined. I’m feeling unloved.”

My brain feels like it might explode. That is why he’s being an ass? Goddesses save me from the fragile egos of the clones and droids. Hopefully, they do it before I murder them .

“I can’t knit, but I missed you! I pined! Happy?” I pour another drink, trying hard not to scream and push this silly argument onto another plane of anger.

Snorting, he shakes his head. “You did not. There’s not a chocolate wrapper in sight and no ice cream tubs—only party plans.”

I roll my eyes and huff. “I had ice cream, but I put the bowl away.”

His eyes widen and he looks shocked, clutching his chest as if that damned weak ticker he touts is going to give up the ghost. “You cleaned up after yourself? Holy hell, you missed me.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him. I’m not that big a slob. “Don’t make a big deal. Dirty dishes draw bugs and I hate bugs.” I’m so busy justifying myself that I miss the small rodent crawling all over the room from floor to ceiling as he explores the new area.

Taurus’ lips quirk as he gets comfortable. He peels off his clothes and chucks them in the dry-cleaning bin inside the closet. Moving to his nightstand, he puts his phone, cuff links, money clip, watch, and other sundries in the decorative bowl Hex added to help us keep our things in one place.

I’m not accusing anyone, but the re-organization of the room and its conveniences might have occurred after Taurus lost a set of important keys. What awful thing they belonged to, who in the hell knows, but during one of our more aggressive intimate sessions, they went missing. He convinced himself for days that Aradia ate them. We knocked the chair across the room when we weren’t paying attention, and there they were.

Hex came over to do a subtle assessment of our space and had everything settled by the evening. I’m not sure Taurus noticed. He used the bins, baskets, bowls, hampers and hooks Hex installed in various locations without being told to.

Perhaps Theodora does similar things.

“Are you afraid of creepy, crawly bugs and spiders, my delicate flower?”

My eyes narrow and I stalk towards him. “Bugs are icky and gross. I’m flat out terrified of spiders, so thank you very much for making fun of my phobia.” I huff, flopping on the bed to pout. “Rafe is, too. He’ll climb on a chair if he even thinks there’s one in the room.”

He bursts out laughing, dropping onto the bed to crush me to him in a hug. “You, love of my heart, are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, and your mate will never hear the end of that tidbit. I missed you like a hole in the chest.”

“You know, Lily’s droid Mercury is a mad scientist and he bred superbugs the size of dogs. Lily wouldn’t let him keep them. He named one Buzz, and it has a covert space in Sandrine’s back plate. The rest live in my pool house.”

“Note: never ever go to Sandwich's pool house. Also, do not make Sandrine angry—got it.”

“Rafe refused to go in the backyard for a week until I moved Aradia’s playground area. He figured that if she were close, and they got out, she’d squish them.”

“Who’d blame him for that?”

“No kidding. Buzz is enormous and the rest of them make him look small. I have no idea what the hell Mercury bred into them other than size. They’re a fucking weaponized army of insects for all I know. I couldn’t say no to the pout; I never say no to the pout. Therefore, there is a bug army in my backyard.”

“Not to change the subject, but can we get back to the party thing? The giant, mutant bug talk is making my skin crawl.” He shivers and I chuckle.

Who’s the big bad, indeed.

Distracted by his admission, I roll over to face him. Neither of us has been paying attention to anything but each other, so we don’t even notice the ferret scurry up the legs of the night table, grab a handful of objects, and scurry off again.

“If you like, we can. Will Talia be coming in the pretty dress she wore to go see Wilde the other night?” I ask, batting my lashes at him.

I phrase the question teasingly, but hearing about her visit to Wilde made my skin crawl in a much more sinister way than the bugs. Indulging Wilde’s fancy pants bullshit is paving the way to bad things.

I should know; I did it once.

When Wilde and I first started ‘dating’ last October, it was the heyday of another illegal bar called Dirty Deeds. It was like the cantina in our favorite space movie—a hive of all the rabble-rousing Resistance folks and some selected ex-Cabal members. DD was an invitation-only join: exclusive because of its encouragement of behavior not for public consumption in the Rift. Sari held court over us all, so not all the Resistance members were deemed acceptable invitees. DD was an all hours place for drinking, partying and flirting. That’s where I met Sari and Wilde. Eventually, it was where I met Rhea and Alistair.

Once that happened, it was downhill from there.

One day, we showed up, and the place had been demolished. From the look of the rubble from the explosion, it was not a gas leak. I guess the Company put the kibosh on the new world version of a speakeasy and didn’t tell anyone. By that time, I was dating Wilde, friends with Sari, and our journey was well on its way.

I digress. My point was that while I flirted and smirked at Wilde as a bad girl to ruffle his stodgy feathers, I also played into his sense of chivalry. I might wrinkle his suits or pull his hair out of the scholarly ponytail held by a ribbon, but in response, he made grand gestures. He took me on dates for picnics where I dressed fancy just to impress him or write me poetry. I couldn’t have known that his pedigree and politeness were all a skin he wore to draw me in.

Talia is falling victim to the same spider and the fly bullshit, and I can’t stop it. I’ve told them both over and over that dating him is a bad idea and they won’t listen. I can’t figure out why, but I also can’t force myself to face the reality of what my relationship with Wilde has become. The consequences of the Winter Incident are too scarring. I can’t force Rafe to do it, and without that, neither of us has strong enough evidence to stop her.

Is she that lonely without Taurus? Could I buy her another bloody hellhound?

Suddenly, it occurs to me he’s looking at me and words are coming out of his mouth. I might have missed something important.

Fuck. Am I supposed to be answering?

He sighs looking at me in disappointment. “I can’t believe you went there to tell them about your amazing news, and they spent their time throwing Talia and that nitwit in your face. It’s the only time Talia’s been out of death gear in weeks, and she goes to see him dressed like that. I guess you’ve heard every detail, huh?”

I shrug, my discomfort with her choice and my own secrets making it hard for me to speak. Clearing my throat, I mumble, “I heard a version. I still don’t feel like this is a good plan.”

There. Maybe that will do it.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Nor do I, but my goddess is nothing if not her own woman.”

Damnit! I can’t get them to see , and I can’t—I can’t—handle admitting why this is so dangerous to anyone.

I close my eyes for a moment, swallowing hard to push back the terror and pain that are threatening to spill out. Chanting my control mantras in my head, I visualize my room in my mind palace again and put everything back in its place. I store everything in its place inside me, cataloged like card drawers in a library. I tuck each thing in tight and mark it for reference. When I get a grip, I look at him with a troubled expression.

“They had to have something to spite me with. I destroyed their world view of clones, magick, and pregnancy while making sure they knew that they not only couldn’t be part of it, but they can’t replicate it. The amount of detail and excitement they shared about this ‘dating’ proposition seemed out of proportion. I was very nonchalant—which I always am about Wilde’s new lovers. They nearly tripped over themselves to apologize for not being suitable mates since they have focused on grieving Rhea, helping Amanda, and prepping for Beltane.”

I growl and pick at the comforter. I’m not comfortable meeting his eyes as I fight another wave of emotions. “I suppose it’s something new, and Wilde gets excited about new things.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that.”

Fuck. I can’t bald-faced lie to him—not here and not now, because it could save someone from what happened to me.

“I don’t believe they’ve been that busy with Amanda—she’s an amusement. They keep blathering on about Beltane, but I don’t think they care, nor do I believe that either of them is still grieving Rhea. Maybe they miss Alistair, but I doubt that. I also don’t believe that Sari put any work into Beltane. I think she convinced everyone it was touchy-feely horseshit. Guess I showed her.”

A ghost of a smile crosses my lips and I take a breath, heading into the tricky part. “Wilde is far too involved with Talia in his mind. That will be nothing but problems; I’ve seen this before. I think they’re conspiring with that Southern twat over more than that stupid ass bar, which worries me. I believe adamantly that Sari and Wilde don’t give a rat’s pizza-eating ass what I’m feeling about any of it—including my news—because it doesn’t involve their needs.”

He studies me, tilting his head. Lifting my face up, he looks at me with a concerned expression. “You’ve changed. You didn’t use to talk about them like this.”

I shrug, casting my eyes down. “Perhaps Beltane provided the clarity that I needed to see things through the right lens.”

Surprise filters through our bond. “Isn’t that interesting? You’ve piqued my curiosity now, kitty.”

It’s true.

When the Goddess chose him—not Alistair or Wilde or anyone else—I knew that the Universe was telling me something. It was telling me to fix old mistakes and be happy. I’m powerful in my own right, but when I’m joined with the right person, there is no limit to what I can do. Bast showed me that my light shines brightest when the surrounding people are not trying to put it out.

“Once I’ve had some more time to process it myself, I will.” I give him a small smile, not wanting to get his hopes up. It’s not fair to even hint at the things I’ve been considering since Beltane until I’m ready to commit to them. Otherwise, it’s cruel. “Let’s go back to the party stuff, hmm?”

Rolling his eyes, he flops on his back and groans.

“Okay, Mr. Dramatic. Yes, I expect you to attend. Given your insistence that you want to show us off in public, I hoped that Talia and the rest of your crew would come. Everyone in my house will be there and our community has a history of throwing enormous, wall-rattling shindigs for birthdays.”

“There’s a ‘but’ hidden in there. I sense it in the pause, woman. Out with it.”

“Only the theme, but we’ll talk about it later.” His eyes narrow and I grin, hoping to distract him until he sees the invitation on the community blog. “Did I mention that we only have four days left before we do the test?”

He beams. “Getting closer, aren’t we?”

I nod, rubbing my hand over my tummy as if I have every reason to assume something is growing there. “Much.”

“Well, mate, I can’t have you catting around without me! To the party, we will go. I’ll tell my goddess she’s expected. Maybe Theodora and Damien will come, too. Theodora’s not been out and about much, so that would be fun.”

I smile and ruffle his hair. “That sounds lovely, baby.”

The ringer on his phone echoes off the walls and he turns to the nightstand, his hand scrabbling in the bowl for it. When he doesn’t find it, he sits up and growls. “What the sodding hell? I bloody put— Minx !”

I blink and give him a confused look. “What? I didn’t do anything!”

“I put my phone, the Romanov cufflinks, and my brand bloody new Meterois watch in this bowl. The bowl I did notice appeared after the key incident that we will never speak of again. I like all the little touches your git put in and that’s why I’ve been using them. However, the better part of eight figures is missing in action from the sodding nightstand!”

My confusion and amazement war inside me. On one hand, why in the hell did he have eight figures worth of crap in a tiny bowl on our nightstand like it was a bunch of stuff from Target? I didn’t do a damned thing to move it, even as a joke. It’s not like a goddamn ninja broke in unnoticed and whisked away from his?—

Oh, fuck.

“Um, I am telling the truth.” I bat my lashes at him, having realized what the problem is.

He glares at me as the phone rings again.

“I did not take your stuff. Now that I know what it costs, I’m not even sure I want to look at your stuff.” An eye roll is my only answer, so I forge on. “However, I might know what happened.”

“Out with it, woman!”

Letting out a piercing whistle that makes both Taurus and Aradia wince, I look around. No luck. It used to work when Aradia was little, so I thought it’d work here. Okay. What the fuck could that droid have taught the little bugger to get him to?—?

Christ. How could I not know this?

I take a deep breath and start singing, “Yo ho, ho ho…”

Taurus looks at me like I’ve taken leave of my senses and I shrug, waiting.

From a cranny above the fireplace, a flash of light, and then motion. Within a blink, the unusually colored coal black ferret scampers up the bed and dumps his loot in front of me, almost smiling. Taurus’ eyes widen and he looks ready to implode as I chuckle. “Meet Twist. He’s the first mate’s trusty sidekick.”

“He’s a sodding hat when I get my bloody hands on him!”

The growl makes the sleek rodent take off like a shot, filching the watch on his way. I wince, knowing that it is the most expensive item and ferrets, like kitties, love shiny things.

“You hurt his feelings, baby. He’s only doing his job. Filch and pilfer, like the song says.”

The phone rings again and my mate gives me a death stare. “You, my minx, are lucky I love your arse more than breath. Find that rat and appropriate my watch and then teach him some bloody manners before I do.”

I beam up at him and then look up to see Twist on the mantle. He’s standing like a meerkat, waving the watch at me.

Guess Mercury won’t be getting a fruit basket.