Page 32

“Mm-hmm. He worked for the Mageri, and they didn’t have a lot of Councils back then, so they were overloaded with work—especially in the larger cities.

Those were the early days. They were in the process of documenting Mage gifts and assigning everyone aliases every twenty-five years.

The crime was out of control. I organized and scheduled meetings, interviews, and everything in between.

We moved to a different state during the Civil War, and my father got more involved with freeing human slaves.

He said it didn’t matter that they weren’t Breed.

We’ve had our own long history with immortals owning us, so it’s our moral obligation to never turn a blind eye. ”

“It sounds like you two have done a lot of important things. I haven’t done jack shit.”

“You’re only in your eighties.”

“I watch a lot of cartoons and read. I’m not out there making a difference.”

“You’re a protector.” I leaned against him. “You make people feel safe in their homes. Don’t try to be a sword when you’re a shield. And don’t undervalue your talents. What did you do before?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. I was the misfit.”

“Why?”

After a beat, Lucian sighed. “My mother died giving birth to my sister, and I guess that messed me up.”

“How old were you?”

“I was grown. When she died, it shattered us, but since I was the youngest in the family?—”

“You were closer to her.” I touched his arm. “Of course.”

“The kids my age used to call my mom a whore. They said the only way she could have made someone like me is if she slept around, so I used to fight a lot as a teenager.”

“Are you close at all with your dad?”

Lucian scratched his jaw. “He tried exposing a scandal involving bribery years ago and didn’t have enough evidence to back his claim.

When the allegation went public, they accused him of slander.

It ruined his good name. That made it hard for us to get work.

He pops into town every so often, but I’m not that close to him. ”

I studied the bookshelf in front of us. “You need your own separate room. It’s not fair to squeeze you in with the security equipment.”

“Couples need space. I don’t.”

I chuckled. “Clearly you need your own room the way people come barging in.” Still staring at his bookshelf, I scooted to the edge of the tall mattress and pulled out a book with a familiar title and colorful cover. “Do you read these?”

When I looked over my shoulder, he averted his gaze.

“Sometimes,” he admitted, his cheeks still flushed from our passionate interlude. “I have smarter books on the other shelves.”

I traced my finger over the dragon illustration and silver font. “Fantasy books are my favorite, but I can’t carry around a physical copy since I’m always on the run.”

“How do you find time to read?”

“I do it on my phone whenever I’m between jobs or have a break. This is one of my favorites.” I patted the cover. “Did you read the sequel?”

His eyes lit up. “Where they find out the truth about the dragon’s origin? Hell yeah. That was a hardcore plot twist I didn’t see coming.”

I laughed and bit my lower lip. “I love that we have that in common. Maybe I’ll send you my recommendations, and you can send me yours.” Still sitting at the edge of the mattress, I returned the book before noticing Lucian’s shoelaces were undone, so I tied them.

“Do you believe in love?” he asked out of the blue.

After tightening his lace, I leaned on my hand. “I certainly see it enough with mating ceremonies, so yes.”

“But a strategic alliance is more important to you.”

“It’s a smarter move for a person in my position.

Maybe relationships work better when they’re a partnership.

I’m not skeptical about love, nor do I have an aversion to it.

Love is a luxury I can’t afford. My father once married for love, but they didn’t value the same things.

I have too much to lose, so I have to make the sensible choice. ”

“Yeah. Love is nothing but bullshit anyhow.”

Why would he say that?

Worried his packmate might return, I gripped the shelf. “I need to say my goodbyes and go home.”

Lucian stood and offered me his hand.

When I took it and rose to my feet, I was taller than him by a couple of inches. “Does it bother you that I’m taller in heels? I don’t want to make this awkward.”

He kissed the base of my throat, hands on my hips. “Nothing about this is awkward. I’ll grab a few containers out of the kitchen.”

“What for?”

“So you can feed your father.”

I threaded a wild tuft of hair behind his ear. “Despite your surly demeanor, you’re a thoughtful man, Mr. Cross.”

He frowned. “Surly?”

As I rubbed my thumb across the line between his eyebrows, I smiled warmly. “It’s the expression. I know that’s not who you really are.”

Why did my heart tug at those words the moment I spoke them? Was I developing feelings for Lucian beyond physical?

It’s definitely the alcohol talking. And probably the aftereffects of hot sex. I need to stop with all these fantasies.

But the way he tenderly gazed into my eyes filled me with compassion.

Leave it to me to get attached to a guy who thinks love is bullshit. But he has such pretty eyes, and those lips…

What would it feel like to have him kiss me? To fall into his arms and seal that connection? Then I realized the onion odor would knock me out like a heavyweight boxer. The thought made me laugh inwardly as I wrapped my arms around him.

Lucian sniffed. “What’s so amusing?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall by his desk. “Your silly clock.”

He leaned back and gave it a cursory glance. It had a cat dangling from the top number and Hang In There written in the center. “My brother sent me that when I was complaining about pack drama. He’s got a sense of humor.”

I scratched my fingernails over the back of his neck, and it was obvious by his slow blink that he liked it. “Why was that old T-shirt by your bed? Or do you always toss your clothes on the floor like a savage?”

He averted his eyes. “It had your scent on it.”

The thought of Lucian curling up in bed at night and pressing that balled-up T-shirt to his face to inhale my scent made my belly dip. “Well then. Since the shirt is ruined, you can keep my panties. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

My finger traced his Adam’s apple. “I better go.”

“Don’t leave yet. I’ll be out in a minute with your food.”

I listened carefully before slipping into the hall and hurrying outside. People were dancing and nibbling on desserts, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone knew what I’d been doing, and it made me examine my dress and pat my hair.

While waiting for Lucian, I looked over the deck railing and watched the crowd laughing and having a good time. A group of young people danced near the well, and grapes flew like artillery shells at the kids’ table.

Virgil marched up the stairs and smiled at me. “You have a glow. Was the security setup that intriguing?”

“It was certainly impressive.”

“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that…” He added a shot of tequila to his punch.

Salem Lockwood joined us and poured himself a glass. “Good evening, Miss Thompson.”

“How are you?”

I wasn’t certain if I sounded too sympathetic.

Salem and Joy had been a couple since they first arrived in Storybook, but now Joy was with Atticus.

I didn’t know the details of how her relationship with Salem dissolved, only that Salem had never struck me as bitter or cruel.

He had trustworthy eyes, a compassionate gaze, and worked hard to help people in the community.

Obviously they had no qualms with him if he was still living with the pack.

“I’m ready for bed,” he replied with a suppressed chuckle. “We’ll be up all night cleaning and putting away supplies.”

“You did a wonderful job. This is the best peace party I’ve ever attended. No violence, great food, and it gave the community a chance to cut loose and make new friends.”

He gave a tight-lipped smile before sipping his drink.

A scream pulled everyone’s attention toward the side of the house. It didn’t sound like a playful one, like earlier when a mischievous kid tossed a frog on a woman’s plate. A group of men closed in on the commotion.

Lakota emerged from the huddle and shouted, “Doc!”

Salem’s drink spilled when he hastily set it on the table before bounding down the steps and rushing to the scene. I watched anxiously as the crowd gradually dispersed.

Walking at a brisk pace, Salem headed back with a woman in his arms. When I saw the red hair, I recognized her immediately as a local artist.

Virgil backed up. “Holy cannoli! What’s with all the blood?”

“Someone broke a bottle and didn’t clean up the glass.” Salem set the woman down in a chair and dropped to his knees. “Get my bag. Hurry!”

“Take it out, take it out!” she whined, burying her head in her arm.

I grimaced at the shard of glass in her foot.

“It’ll bleed,” he informed her. “Can you shift?”

“No.” With her body twisted to one side, she kept her face buried. “Will I lose my foot?”

Virgil barked out a laugh. When Salem gave him an admonishing look, he jogged inside to retrieve Salem’s medical bag.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

Salem examined the bottom of her foot while she whimpered. “I need more light… and a footstool.”

Not knowing where either was, I ran inside and caught Lucian in the kitchen. “Salem needs a footstool and a flashlight.”

With Tupperware in his hands, he gave me a perplexed look before setting them on the counter and heading to a supply room. By the time he found the footstool, Virgil was outside with Salem’s medical bag.

The crowd had resumed their festivities.

Salem put on a funny pair of glasses that looked like binoculars and reached for the shard of glass in her foot. “This will hurt.”

I couldn’t watch, so I went back inside as she screamed. A motion-activated light in the hall guided my path to the front porch. Once outside, I spotted two cars speeding down the long private drive.

With Marcus still on the loose, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my father alone for too long.

Lucian had installed an alarm system that would alert me if anyone got within ten feet of the house so long as the sensors were activated, but even though I hadn’t received any security alerts, it didn’t erase my worries.

I called my father on video chat.

“Hey there,” he answered, in good spirits. In the background, the television blared.

“How are you holding out?”

“Just fine. How’s that party?”

“ Lots of food, dancing, and alcohol.”

He gave a mirthless smile. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. You’re still young. Enjoy it while you can before you’re laid up in a bed like me.”

He wasn’t wearing his nasal cannula.

“Is your breathing okay tonight?”

“It’s not bad,” he said, the video moving when he switched the phone to his other hand. “You know how it goes.”

“Put that pulse oximeter back on. If the alarm beeps, you need to wear the oxygen whether you want to or not.”

My father balked about how the tubes annoyed him and got in the way. He didn’t always need oxygen when sleeping, but more so lately.

“I’ll be home soon, Dad. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll come down to check on you before I go to bed. If you’re still awake, I’ll tell you all about the party. I’m also bringing home food, so you’ll be all set for tomorrow.”

“I hope it’s something good.”

“Don’t you worry about that. I love you.”

After ending the call, I turned to greet Lucian, who noisily kicked open the front door.

He handed me a plastic sack. “These are extras we were keeping in the fridge for leftovers, so they haven’t been sitting out all night. I also added a few other things.”

“Like what?”

“Oranges. They boost the immune system.”

My heart clenched to know Lucian was thinking of my father. “He’ll love it. Thanks.”

“Walk you to the car?”

I glanced around. “Best not.”

As I drifted toward the steps, Lucian blurted, “I heard you’re going out with Deacon.”

I descended the first step and twisted around. “Where did you hear that?”

He folded his arms. “Word gets around fast.”

“I’ll say.”

Then I remembered Deacon had spoken to Lucian after asking me out. There was no sense in denying it, but it felt incredibly awkward.

“He asked me out respectfully, and I said yes. We’ll see how it goes.”

A silence hung between us, as thin and delicate as a spiderweb. His withdrawn demeanor left me wondering once again if this was just sex to him.

That should’ve relieved me since it would make ending our affair easier, but it didn’t.

I wanted to know why Lucian Cross didn’t believe in love.

I wanted to peer over his walls and see the other side.

The more I got to know him, the more he revealed his true self, and that left my feelings scattered like puzzle pieces thrown to the floor.

Laughter rang out when a small group emerged from the side of the house and crossed the yard toward their car. Those delicate spiderwebs between Lucian and me broke and drifted away.

After an earnest smile, I said, “Good night, Mr. Cross.”

He inclined his head. “Councilwoman Eden.”