Page 15 of The Last Wish (Lost Legacy #1)

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

SHEENA

I can't believe I agreed to this. It’s been almost a week since Gideon and I made things official, and ever since, I've been letting my rules slide to give this relationship a real shot at success. Now I'm buckled into the back seat of their SUV on the way to meet their parents, which even after half a dozen conversations, feels like an insane thing to do.

Maybe I've lost my mind.

The back tire hits a bump, jostling me.

Maybe it was just all the good sex.

Blood rushes to my face. I wonder if I’ll ever stop blushing when I think about the intimate details of my sex life. It would be easier if I could be more brazen about the entire thing, especially since I want to take that step with Callum too.

I squirm against the leather seats as I picture it. I mean—he's an actual sex demon, so I’m sure it will be phenomenal. Part of me worries I won’t be able to keep up, or that he’ll be disappointed. Another part of me can't wait to roll up my sleeves, drop my panties, and give it my best shot.

A month ago, I was in the middle of a yearlong dry spell with no interest in changing that. Now, I'm counting the minutes until I end up on my back again.

“What are you thinking about?” Callum asks, looking at me in the rearview mirror with a knowing grin.

“You know exactly what she's thinking about.” Gideon jumps in before I can answer. “And if she keeps it up, I’m going to wreck this car or pull over to join her in the back seat.”

He growls at me, and the sound immediately makes me wet. I cross my legs.

“How can you possibly know what I'm thinking?” I go on the defensive. “You can't read my mind... Can you?”

“No, Sheena.” Callum snorts. “But I can sense lust, and Gideon is basically an animal. My nose is nowhere near as sensitive as his, and even I can smell you.”

Oh. That's mortifying .

“Let's change the subject,” I demand, trying unsuccessfully to get my arousal under control. “Actually, let’s just go back home. I don't feel sick at all. This is completely unnecessary.”

“I promise they will love you.”

Gideon sounds sincere, but I don't share his optimism.

“You can't know that. I'm broke and broken—not exactly the kind of girl you take home to meet your parents.” Both of them start to argue, but I hold up my hand and cut them off. “Then, if they decide to be cool with the fact that I have nothing to offer... We’re just going to tell them their precious sons have to share me? I wouldn't be surprised if they throw me out.”

“You're not broken,” Callum whispers gently. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

“And they won't give a shit about the sharing,” Gideon says, thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “My mom already thinks I'm bending Cal over every night.”

“Wait. Why would she assume you're always on top?” Callum turns to him, laughing. “I'm an incubus demon for fuck’s sake.”

“Right. If you wanted it, all you’d have to do is ask,” Gideon teases, glancing at Callum in the passenger seat, then looking back at the road.

I'm not sure if he caught it or not, but I could swear Callum’s black eyes turned a shade darker at the suggestion. I don't blame him. The thought of the two of them together makes my desire come roaring back to life. I curse both of them as I shift in my seat.

“Someone likes that idea.”

Gideon's voice is pure sex. I close my eyes to pull myself together, but it doesn’t help. Instead, my brain supplies me with a lot of graphic sexual images of the two of them wrapped around each other.

“If you both don't stop, I'm going to have to introduce Sheena to my parents with a hard on,” Callum warns. “And if that happens, I'm going to make damn sure you both are every bit as uncomfortable as I am.”

“It's his fault, not mine.” I hurl the words at Gideon, pointing my finger at him in accusation.

My shifter seems like he's having a blast, dimples flashing as he grins and starts whistling tunelessly. He’s the picture of innocence, but I’m not buying it.

We stop talking then, and I focus on the best way to make a good impression, realizing I don’t have the first idea how to dazzle anyone’s parents.

Before I can get too worked up, we’re passing through a gate and veering left down an enormous cobblestone driveway. I catch glimpses of buildings, a fountain, and tall hedges as we go. We finally stop at another massive building. Gideon parks the SUV, then Callum opens my door. I slide out and do my best not to fidget or stare. This place is stunning. They definitely undersold it.

“You said this was a home,” I hiss, frantically scraping a spot of mud off of my boot onto the stone. “I’m not sure what this is exactly, but it's not like any home I've ever seen.”

Gideon looks at the sprawling structure as if he's trying to see it through my eyes. “Yeah, it’s big. Our families have their own living spaces, but a lot of other people live here too.”

“And many of them have nowhere else to go,” Callum explains. “There are a bunch of other areas used for operations and training, too.”

“Boring stuff like that,” Gideon says.

I think I hear Callum murmur something about dungeons under his breath. Before I can ask, I hear a set of footsteps coming up behind me.

“Just think of it as an ostentatious, mixed-use development.” At the sound of the familiar voice, I spin around so fast I almost trip.

“Careful, bestie,” Ciprian teases, smiling as I rush forward to give him a hug.

“The house isn't the only thing that's ostentatious. Are you wearing slacks?” Callum asks, pointing at his brother.

Ciprian tilts his head cheekily. “I had these custom made to cup my ass just right. What do you think, babe?” He twists to show me the back of his tight, black pants.

“No one will be able to look away,” I assure him, choking on a laugh and giving him a thumbs-up.

He ignores his brother's scowl and throws his arm around my shoulder, grinning. “Come inside now, Little Red Riding Hood. It's time to meet the big bad wolves.”

I stop in my tracks, ice trickling down my spine.

“Wait, no one mentioned wolves.” I turn to question Gideon about what I'm walking into. “I thought your parents had an affinity for birds and cats?”

He smiles down at me, shaking his head. “There aren’t any wolves staying here that I know of.”

“He’s right.” Ciprian laughs. “Just some nightmare demons living next to an over-capacity, cage-free animal shelter.” He leans in closer. “And we’ve got fairies now.”

Callum twists his head toward his brother with a scowl. “How’s that going?”

“So far, it's been a heaping pile of painfully polite small talk.” Ciprian rubs his chin. His tone is light, but the tension I’m feeling from all three of them makes me certain I’m missing some kind of context here.

“I’d prefer we save those introductions for another visit,” Callum says, looking around the courtyard with narrowed eyes.

For once, Ciprian seems to agree with him because he nods his head and ushers me forward. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter about people I've never heard of while he leads me towards the nearest entrance.

“My family lives in this wing,” Gideon says, slipping his hand in mine as we climb the stairs.

At the top, Callum reaches for the heavy, ornate door, but it opens on its own.

A man steps out. He's tall, elegant, and full of stunning, sharp edges as though his entire body was carved from marble. I assume he has Asian heritage until I notice the gracefully pointed ears on display beneath his black, neatly coiffed hair. After spending time with Callum and Gideon, I thought I would never be stunned by another good-looking man again, but this guy... He’s so otherworldly flawless, it scares me.

Gideon's hand tightens around mine. Ciprian's arm, which was draped lazily over my shoulders, twitches twice as the man stares me down. He studies me like a specimen under a microscope. I shudder.

“Idris, it's good to see you again.” Callum breaks the silence. His words are perfectly polite, but his tone is cold.

This must be one of the fae I wasn’t supposed to meet.

Idris gives Callum a curt nod, but his icy blue eyes never leave mine. I take an involuntary step back, but I don’t dare look away from him. I know danger when I see it, and life taught me early on never to take your eyes off an enemy.

Our silent standoff shatters when Gideon lets loose a vicious, warning snarl and a tall woman bursts through the door. The fae just looks at Gideon and smiles, his lips slowly peeling back to reveal flawless white teeth. It’s not a friendly expression.

“Gideon, watch your mouth.” The woman steps gracefully around Idris with a boisterous, dimpled smile and plants an enthusiastic kiss on my mate’s cheek.

This is clearly Gideon’s mom, and god only knows what she thinks of this weird display. Her son is still squeezing my hand in a death grip, and Ciprian is glued to my other side, so I have nowhere to go when she turns her excitement on me.

“Darling, Gideon has told me almost nothing about you, so I know you're important. Please, come in. I'm not sure why you're all hovering in the doorway.” Somehow, she extracts me from both Ciprian and Gideon with no effort. I follow her into the house, blinking like a little lost duckling.

“Idris, are you heading out, or would you like to stay for tea?” She tosses him a smile over her shoulder and some of the malice melts from his expression.

“Sarah, your offer is more than kind, but this is a family affair. I wouldn't dream of intruding.”

When he speaks for the first time, it’s all old-world charm, tinted with a slight accent I don't recognize. His voice is smooth and thick. It reminds me of melted chocolate and rolling around on silk sheets. I blink that comparison away, wondering where it came from.

I’ve never even slept on silk sheets for god’s sake.

Idris bows low in my direction before gliding down the stairs.

Ciprian whistles and shudders dramatically. “That was weird as fuck.”

“Shut up, he can still hear you.” Callum smacks him in the arm.

Sarah smiles indulgently at both of them, interlocking her arm with mine and grinning down conspiratorially at me. “Sweetheart, it's obvious you're with two of my sweet boys, but what about my darling Ciprian?”

I replay her words three times before they truly compute, then my jaw drops, both from the insinuation and her casual acceptance.

“Shit, Sarah. Absolutely not.” Ciprian grimaces at her, taking a step out of Callum's reach to avoid another swat. “Sheena is my friend. Everyone knows if you bang your bestie, things get messy.” He swings his head around, wiggling his eyebrows at his brother and Gideon. They ignore his antics. Sarah looks amused.

“Mom, this is Sheena.” Gideon finally introduces us, sounding both exasperated and amused.

“It's wonderful to meet you, ma'am,” I sputter. “You have a lovely home.” I gesture to the empty corner by the door and immediately feel like a total idiot. Her lip twitches, but she doesn’t laugh at me.

“Oh, sweetie, there’s no ‘ma'am’ in this wing. Call me Sarah. I'm sure we're going to be the best of friends.”

She leads me out of the foyer then, and again I find myself moving without realizing it. It’s quickly becoming clear that Sarah is a force of nature all on her own. All three men leave me to my fate, trailing behind like dutiful puppies.

We walk through a series of lavish hallways and hop on a golden, ornate elevator. As I look left and right in astonishment, I worry my eyes are bugging out of my head more with each incredible thing I see. Sarah keeps up a steady yet calming stream of chatter, bringing each of us into the conversation seamlessly. Seriously, it’s like she has a doctorate in diffusing tension.

By the time we step into a set of rooms that look more lived in, I’m almost comfortable around her. This part of the compound has cheerful earth tones punctuated here and there by bright pops of color. It's tasteful, eclectic, and warm—perfectly matching the woman next to me.

“Boys, will you be staying in your rooms here or in the other wing?” She includes both brothers in her question, and I see them eye each other warily.

“I’ll be staying here with Sheena if that's alright with you, Sarah,” Callum says.

She nods, a pleased smile on her face.

“Unfortunately, I'll be heading back to the House of Horrors later,” Ciprian quips, earning a sharp look from his brother.

“The Hall of Nightmares,” Sarah explains for my benefit. “That's the official name of the demon wing, dear.”

Ciprian wanders away, clearly comfortable in the Therion home, while the rest of us settle around the cozy living room.

“No cookies this close to dinner,” Sarah calls out, ignoring the groan that comes from around the corner in response.

“What if I share with Sheena?” Ciprian asks as he stomps back into view. “Seriously, if she goes another minute without trying your chocolate chip cookies, it might kill her.”

Sarah shakes her head at his attempt to negotiate, then agrees with a smile. Ciprian’s smirk is triumphant, and he offers me what's clearly the smaller half of a cookie. I reach for it, only to change direction at the last second, swiping the bigger half from his other hand. He sputters, outraged, but I stuff the gooey treat into my mouth before he can retaliate.

“That's the last time I'll be sharing with you,” he whines, throwing himself down on the couch next to Sarah and looking to her for sympathy.

“You'll have to excuse him, Sheena. He's the youngest, so I'm afraid we spoiled him a little.” She smiles fondly at the blonde demon. “He was just such a darling little baby.”

Ciprian preens under her attention, throwing smug looks at Callum and Gideon. “Yes, Sheena, my birth was a blessing for the entire region.”

I groan at his antics, finishing the cookie and ignoring his giant ego.

“Sarah, I hesitate to agree with Ciprian—for obvious reasons—but that’s the best cookie I’ve ever had,” I tell her. “I would love the recipe if you're willing to share it.” Both Callum and Gideon perk up at that.

“Of course, dear. Do you bake?” There’s genuine interest in her question, and my guard drops another notch.

“Not as much as I'd like,” I admit. “But one of my diner jobs required baking pies every day. I got pretty good at that.”

We make small talk for the next few minutes until Callum clears his throat. We all look his way.

“Sarah, what's the deal with Idris?” His voice is wary, but Gideon’s mom seems unsurprised by the question.

“It's going amazingly well, dear. He and his companions finished moving in just a few days ago. So far, the alliance is holding strong.” She looks at me then, including me in the conversation. “I’ll admit I questioned the move at first, myself, but we're hopeful having the fae as part of the enclave will bring more stability.”

“I don't trust him,” Gideon grumbles. “And I don’t like the way he stared at Sheena.”

I’m glad I wasn't the only one who thought that interaction was strange.

“Oh, sweetie, I'm sure it was nothing.” Sarah pats her son’s arm. “He's just intense. After all that he’s been through, it’s not surprising.”

Gideon still doesn’t look convinced, but his mom seems confident everything is fine.

When we head over to the Hall of Nightmares for dinner, I’m still thinking about Idris’ cold, blue stare. Even now, as we navigate the dim labyrinth of corridors, I can still feel his eyes on me.

IDRIS

There is a djinn at the enclave.

Walking across the courtyard, the click of the stones under my shoes grates on my nerves. The expensive leather pinches my feet. I feel a pang of longing for the lush grass of my homeland and the way my bare toes would sink into the earth there. Suffocating that insipid sentiment, I remind myself forcefully that those days are behind me now.

As for the djinn... It's been decades since I’ve seen one. I thought they had all been hunted to extinction. Why would she reveal herself to a compound teeming with supernaturals?

I could feel the creature's power radiating across the threshold. It was on the tip of my tongue to test her and make a wish, but if she were bound, those words would have been the last ones I ever uttered.

With the way those boys clung to her like vines to a trellis, it's clear she's under their protection. It will not be enough. She's not safe, nor is anyone in her immediate orbit. An unbound djinn—gods, if she were to fall into the wrong hands, her magic could destroy realms.

Which begs the question: how can I use this to my advantage?

After I ensure I’m seen entering the fae section of the compound, I wait for a few hours to pass, then cloak myself in a heavy glamour. I’m nearly invisible. If anyone looks directly at me, they won't see anything, except perhaps a slight rippling of the air when I move.

Satisfied with the disguise, I sidle soundlessly back to the shifter domain. The gods are on my side for once, and I encounter the group just as they're walking toward the Hall of Nightmares. A pretentious name for what's essentially a gauche, gothic shrine to a bygone era.

They keep up a steady stream of chatter as they walk, so I trail after them, hoping to learn something interesting. The young demon is trying desperately to get attention from the older one. It could be interesting to find the source of that familial tension and exploit it, but I don't have the time for side projects right now.

“Ciprian, keep your grubby hands off my girl,” the incubus demon snaps. What was his name again? Calvin or Cornelius or something?

“Dude. Why so greedy? It's not like you aren't already sharing her.”

Both the incubus and the enormous shifter swing for the blonde, but he dodges.

“Stop trying to rile them up,” the djinn demands, groaning. Her voice is low and melodic in the dim corridor. Hearing it for the first time sends shivers down my spine, but that’s nothing compared to how the calculating gleam in her eyes affects me.

“If you keep antagonizing them, I might let something slip about your winged problem.” That veiled threat obviously hits its mark because the nightmare swings his head around, glaring down at her.

“I told you that under the best friend confidentiality clause. It's a binding contract, in case you were unaware,” he insists, making a laugh bubble out of her. It's rich, throaty, and entirely too sensual for a woman wearing dirty hiking boots.

“I don't remember signing anything.” She taps her chin with her pointer finger. “You also never said it was a secret.”

“Oh my shit, Sheena. It was implied. Like the time you told me about what Gideon can do with his tongue.”

The djinn cringes, but the shifter seems amused. “My mom is right there, man,” he says.

Sarah laughs at that. She's been a quiet but shrewd observer up until this point, much like myself.

“It's okay, dear. It's comforting for me to know my son isn't a selfish lover.” She pats him on the back and beams down at the djinn.

“Umm. Nothing to worry about there, Sarah,” the djinn says. Her face is so red now her blush is visible even in the dimly lit corridor. She looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

As soon as Sarah turns back to lead the group on, the three of them converge on the blonde troublemaker, hissing and swatting at him. He has the nerve to look aggrieved, and I'm surprised to find myself genuinely amused by their scuffle.

Unfortunately, I've learned almost nothing helpful, except that two of the males are sharing her physically. That is not uncommon in the supernatural world, hardly worth even noting, but the variable does interest me. Perhaps she will have a better chance of survival if she collects a powerful group of lovers.

“Sheena, my son tells me you've had some trouble recently. Are you feeling better?” At the question, I immediately perk up, eager to hear her answer.

“Yes, it's been a hard few years,” she says. A shiver rolls down her spine. “I do feel better, though. Thank you for asking.” The big shifter steps closer to her, rubbing his chest and looking pained by her reaction.

I smell fear in the air.

“We're hoping you might have information that could help us keep Sheena safe, mom.” The shifter wraps a protective arm around her. Sarah promises to do whatever she can, her curiosity bleeding through her polite tone.

I watch them disappear into the Casanell’s private residence and consider my next move. If they have questions for the leaders of the enclave, that includes me now.

It seems tonight is the perfect time to take the demons up on their standing dinner invitation.