Page 105 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

“Can we look now?” she asked, leaning in and puckering her lips at their bird. Poe mimicked a kissing sound in reply.

“Not yet. You’re gonna be fucking proud of me,” Athan called from the stove.

“I already am,” Sarah grinned, scratching Poe’s ruffled breast. “We’re not choking on smoke.”

“That was hurtful, St. James. I’ve had a rough day, you know.”

Smoke sounded like an excellent idea, and she was quick to light a cigarette as she chuckled beneath her cupped hands and blew curls through her nose. Athan’s lighter flipped shut, and she set it on the nightstand. “Need some ointment for your sore asshole?”

“No, but you’re gonna need some for yours if you keep that shit up.”

“Oooo,” she purred, wagging her brows. Poe repeated the word ‘asshole’, and she and Athan both burst out laughing. “Note to self. Never have kids. We’d be horrible parents.”

There were a couple loud bangs of pots on the stove, but then he replied, “Says, you . I’d be a great dad. He’d be smoking a pack a day and playing with guns before he could walk.”

“Can they up someone’s birth control?” Sarah jested. Athan popped his head around the corner of the fridge, shooting her a defeated look. “I’m kidding. Calm down. You know I live my life on the edge, detective.”

“Remind me to come back to this conversation later.”

She took a long drag from her cigarette, and moved Poe to his perch stand by the bed. “Dude, I’m ravenous. Are you done yet? I’m about ready to ravage our little blood bank.”

“Don’t come in here! Get your sexy little ass back on that bed.”

She stubbed the cigarette out and smiled over her shoulder as she crawled back onto the mattress. “Remind me to come back to that conversation later.”

“I’m coming,” he insisted, and she heard a plate clink.

“Wish I could say the same.” Maybe it was just the heaviness of the day they’d all had, but Athan was walking into every single one of her jabs like he didn’t have a chance of seeing them coming tonight.

He laughed from the kitchen, and it made her chest warm.

At least she could give him that after everything that went on this week.

It was surprising that he was even in this good of a mood and offering to cook after swearing he’d never do it again.

“What is that smell?” she asked, crinkling her nose.

Finally, he approached her side of the bed carrying two plates and wearing one hell of a triumphant smile.

It was devastatingly beautiful on him right now.

Her own smile faded as he set the plate in her lap.

Sarah stared at it like it would grow its own set of fangs and snap at her.

“Bon’ appetit, my lady. My first ever unscathed dinner. ”

Sarah’s finger poked at the round black thing in the middle of the plate. “Baby…I hate to tell ya? But it looks pretty damn charred to me.”

He strutted happily around to his side, and scooched closer with his own plate.

Every single tattoo on the upper half of his body looked more delicious than whatever it was that he was about to make her eat.

“Actually…it’s supposed to look like that, thank you very much.

It’s called black pudding. And that there is beans on toast. Breakfast of champions. ”

“Athan…it’s eight at night. And I know what beans look like on a piece of bread.” His self-pride looked diminished for a second, and she leaned over, taking one side of his face with her palm and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You did great.”

“Thank you,” he humphed. “Now eat it.”

She looked back down at the plate, and picked up the black blob, dangling it over the toast with two fingers.

Her facial expression must have been hysterical, because he started laughing through the biggest bite she’d ever seen him take…

aside from her fucking neck . “What the hell is a black pudding?”

“ Blood sausage,” he mumbled, chewing. “Just fucking try it, and stop your bitching, woman. Trust me…please?” Those baby blue eyes softened pitifully, and he might as well have poked his lip out—no…he did . He did poke that luscious lip out.

Bastard.

Sarah’s face scrunched in agony, and she opened her mouth sliding the blob between her teeth and biting off a chunk. It was surprisingly good… really good. “Oh, my gahh …” she said, biting off a bigger piece. “This is amazing. Are you serious?”

“Told you to trust me,” Athan grinned, biting into his toast. “My mom cooked this almost every morning. She’d fry an egg, over-easy, and slice tomatoes on them too…but you know my history with chicken periods.” Sarah nearly spit out her food.

“I’m sorry… what? ” she cackled, setting the pudding back down on her plate and continuing to laugh as she held a knuckle to her lips.

“Chicken periods,” he smiled, chewing.

“Explain yourself!” she laughed, not able to help herself.

“What do you mean? That’s what it is.”

“Athan…no. No, no, no.” Sarah’s hand waved back and forth across her face and tears started stinging her eyes as she bent over her plate in laughter.

“It is! ” he argued. “All an egg is, is a missed shot. Tell me I’m wrong. We eat chicken periods. End of story.” He bit off another hunk of his pudding.

“I’m never eating eggs again,” she laughed. “You just ruined so much for me.”

“Hurry up and finish that so I can ruin something else.”

“Oh, uh-uh…my libido just crashed through the floor. Thanks for that.”

Poe danced on his perch, begging for a piece of their dinner, and Athan pointed up at him. “Asshole,” he trilled, shuffling a wing. Sarah erupted. Athan’s eyes boggled in shock, and then he lost his shit too.

“Dad of the year!” she choked, wiping her eyes, and heaving over her plate.

They finally calmed themselves and finished their dinner…

or breakfast…whatever. Poe got his share too and started curling up on himself for the night.

Athan lit himself a cigarette and held an arm out for Sarah to lean into him.

“Perfect ending to a shitty day,” she sighed against his chest.

“It’s not over yet,” he exhaled, blowing a line of smoke towards the ceiling. She glanced up at him, admiring that chiseled jawline. “There’s a reason other than the fact that I can’t cook that I made that for us tonight.”

“Lay it on me, detective.”

“Since we’re kind of running on ‘destination anywhere’…I wanted to ask you something.” He held the cigarette between his fingers and rested it at his side as he looked down at her.

“Okay?” Sarah asked, propping herself up on her elbow, and resting her chin on her knuckles. “I’m intrigued.”

His eyes were so sincere, and she could tell whatever his reason was, really meant a lot to him. “I wanna take you to London. Back home.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Athan…”

“If you don’t want to, I’ll understand, and I’ll be perfectly fine with it, but—”

“No,” she cut him off, dropping her palm to his chest. “I would—I would love that.”

They got caught up in their infamous stare, and his smile was so breathtaking that she forgot what the hell they were talking about for a moment. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” she clarified. “But I hope you’re a stronger swimmer than whatever rooster failed those poor chickens,” she snorted. “That’s a long way to go without a plane.”

“I’ll do it for you,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” Athan nodded, and she leaned forward, kissing him. “London it is, then.”

He was absolutely stuffed. Evie had outdone herself tonight, and Reese snored under his rocketship blanket on the couch while they drank wine by the lit fireplace. Nick snickered into his glass.

“You can’t make it up,” Evie laughed, taking another swallow. “He was so proud of himself, and the teacher had absolutely no idea that he’d colored himself standing next to a giant turd.”

“He’s proud because we’re proud,” Nick chuckled, glancing over at his sleeping youngster. “Mama told him he was a good ‘ortis’ .”

“I wish you’d hurry up and turn sixty. I’m not ready for you to go back to work. If I got a part-time job, would you consider being home more?” she asked.

“You’re not doing that. We talked about this.”

Evie sighed and set her glass down. She opened her mouth to say something else, and his computer dinged from the coffee table. Their eyes darted over, and then she looked at him sadly before rolling her eyes and staring back at the fireplace.

“Evie…come on.” He reached for her, and she slid her hand away.

Alright then…

Nick picked up the glasses and walked them to the kitchen before stopping at his laptop and opening his email.

His stomach dropped when he saw Sarah St. James’ email address, and below it, one from his bank for suspicious activity that required verification.

He lowered his brows, and dread pooled in his stomach as he clicked the email open.

Boss man,

I regret to inform you that I no longer have any interest in working at your shady company, and I’m taking my astounding expertise elsewhere. I also apologize about the lack of notice. My criminal record is becoming impressive, and I’m sorry to say that it thrills me beyond measure. I’ve gotta go.

Detective Kane and I understand the hardship we’ve caused you and your family, and the lengths you were willing to go to make everything right earned you a gold star.

Before we disappear and spend our time outrunning lengthy prison sentences, we felt we needed to have our affairs in order.

I couldn’t think of anyone safer than the shadiest employer I’ve ever had.

After battling it out with an agent that’s well-above your pay grade, I’ve made an arrangement I’m sure you’ll adjust well to.

You, and your wife, who I’m also sure is ready to divorce you by now.

Our work is sacred, Nick. You understand better than most how important this science is to me.

You’re a brilliant doctor, and I want you to continue our research—but I do know that the only thing more important to you than the science is your family.

I know that’s why you sold me out to the lowest bidder in the first place.

Between you and I, we’ve made discoveries one could only dream about.

I was once told that O-negative blood was liquid gold.

Now we both know better. You now sit on a gold mine of knowledge that I’m sure your slippery ass will keep a closely guarded secret for both our sakes.

All amazing works deserve to be rewarded, Nick.

Unfortunately, the price that the government demands for that knowledge is to shut down your company and hold you responsible for your dealings with naughty individuals.

EverLife has now been sold to the lowest bidder.

Also unfortunate, that none of us get to have our cake and eat it too.

I know…it sucks. But don’t fret, Nick. I know that your wife will enjoy you being home more often, and the compensation for your immaculate brain should be a nice, plushy cushion to land on as you recover from this healthy ass-kicking.

Check your bank account, and at the top of this email, you’ll find an encrypted link that will open a routing number to an offshore account in which you’ll find a future as bright as your ugly office. The password to open said link is your old badge number from the lab.

Take care of yourself, Nick.

Your Darling Ex-employee,

-Sarah L. St. James-

Nick’s throat went dry, and he tried to swallow, but to no avail, as he clicked the link and typed in his badge number.

Specter Labs, LLC.

Balance - $5,000,000.00

His stomach tightened, and Reese shuffled under his blanket on the couch. As he glanced back at him, he caught sight of Evie staring quietly into the fireplace, and his eyes welled with tears. Nick logged into his bank account next.

Account (68249556)

Balance - $582,645.88

“Jesus Howard Christ,” Nick whispered, covering his mouth. Evie looked over her shoulder, and her brows furrowed at his stunned expression.

“What’s the matter?” He closed the laptop softly, smiling to himself, and went back to the kitchen to refill their glasses. Evie didn’t wait for him, instead padding her concerned slender body into the kitchen as he turned and handed her the wine. “Nick? What happened?”

“I just got fired,” he smiled, clinking her glass with his own.