should stay. Darla
can handle Guinea. If Mirabelle needs me—”
“No. We’re good. We’ve
actually gotten lucky—” Jesus, could he have phrased that worse? “Ah, had some
breakthroughs with her memory. Mirage thinks the compulsions are just echoes. Do
you want to talk to her?”
At Lucien’s hasty yes,
Julian extended the phone to Mirage, avoiding her gaze as he felt color
stinging his cheeks. Blushing, like some horny thirteen year old caught ogling
the neighbor girls. He ducked into the kitchen, telling himself it was to give
Mirage and her brother some privacy and not because he couldn’t look at her
without thinking of her sweet, lithe body arching beneath him, so damn eager it
made his balls draw up tight just thinking of it.
He braced his hands on
either side of the coffee pot, trying to get a grip. What had happened with
Mirage was a mistake. One second she was out of it and they were fighting, then
he’d pushed his forced-truth into her. Suddenly she was herself again, her eyes
sharp and clear, and bam , she was kissing him and he couldn’t keep his
hands off her. It shouldn’t have happened. So why was he standing here thinking
of nothing but how he could make it happen again?
He poured himself
another cup of coffee, even though by now it was burned past the point of
palatability. He needed something to chase the taste of her out of his mouth. He
took a quick swallow and it scalded his tongue, bitter and dark, which suited
his mood just fucking perfectly. He was supposed to be building trust, not
taking advantage of it by trying to get into her pants. Lucien would kick his
ass if he ever found out—and he’d be right to do it.
“No, they’re definitely
echoes.” He heard Mirage come into the kitchen, still talking to her brother.
“The box was the same one that held the Apocalyptum I took the first time. I
think it must have triggered me so strongly because Kevin would have reinforced
that command several times… No, Luc, it’s fine. Julian was a real hero. He
punched right through it with his truth mojo. Snapped me right out of it.”
He flinched. She made
him sound so noble. Not at all like he’d taken advantage of her. Okay, yes, she
had been the aggressor, but she was in a vulnerable state. She didn’t know what
she was doing. He was the one who should have known better. Just because he ached
for her so badly he could hardly think straight—God, when had he started
wanting her like this?
“Julian.”
His diaphragm
contracted, forcing out his breath at the sound of his name on her lips. He
cocked his head to acknowledge her call, still not able to look at her.
“Luc would like to talk
to you again.”
Julian nodded, downed
the rest of his coffee and took the phone without meeting her eyes. Businesslike.
Impersonal. That was how he’d be from now on. “Lucien.”
“Belle wants me to go,
Darla wants me to go. It’s the right bloody thing to do and I’ll do it. Just
swear to me you won’t let anything happen to her while I’m gone.”
He’d been avoiding it,
but now he couldn’t help but look at her. She stood in the doorway, eyes large
and solemn as she watched him. “I’ll guard her with my life. You have my word.”
Mirage cast her eyes
down, shuttering her gaze, and slipped out of the room. Out of sight, a
graceful illusion.
“No one will touch
her.” Not even me.
“I’ll hold you to
that,” Lucien growled.
Good .
“If you see Eisenmann, have him call me, all right? We’ve made real progress and
I’d like his professional opinion.”
“He wasn’t at Trident
today, but if we see him before we go, I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks.” He tried not
to dwell on how strange it was to be thanking DemonSpawn Wroth for anything. The
world just looked different these days.
He disconnected the
call and set the phone on the counter, jarringly aware that he and Mirage were
now even more on their own. He was excruciatingly aware of her in the other
room. It
can handle Guinea. If Mirabelle needs me—”
“No. We’re good. We’ve
actually gotten lucky—” Jesus, could he have phrased that worse? “Ah, had some
breakthroughs with her memory. Mirage thinks the compulsions are just echoes. Do
you want to talk to her?”
At Lucien’s hasty yes,
Julian extended the phone to Mirage, avoiding her gaze as he felt color
stinging his cheeks. Blushing, like some horny thirteen year old caught ogling
the neighbor girls. He ducked into the kitchen, telling himself it was to give
Mirage and her brother some privacy and not because he couldn’t look at her
without thinking of her sweet, lithe body arching beneath him, so damn eager it
made his balls draw up tight just thinking of it.
He braced his hands on
either side of the coffee pot, trying to get a grip. What had happened with
Mirage was a mistake. One second she was out of it and they were fighting, then
he’d pushed his forced-truth into her. Suddenly she was herself again, her eyes
sharp and clear, and bam , she was kissing him and he couldn’t keep his
hands off her. It shouldn’t have happened. So why was he standing here thinking
of nothing but how he could make it happen again?
He poured himself
another cup of coffee, even though by now it was burned past the point of
palatability. He needed something to chase the taste of her out of his mouth. He
took a quick swallow and it scalded his tongue, bitter and dark, which suited
his mood just fucking perfectly. He was supposed to be building trust, not
taking advantage of it by trying to get into her pants. Lucien would kick his
ass if he ever found out—and he’d be right to do it.
“No, they’re definitely
echoes.” He heard Mirage come into the kitchen, still talking to her brother.
“The box was the same one that held the Apocalyptum I took the first time. I
think it must have triggered me so strongly because Kevin would have reinforced
that command several times… No, Luc, it’s fine. Julian was a real hero. He
punched right through it with his truth mojo. Snapped me right out of it.”
He flinched. She made
him sound so noble. Not at all like he’d taken advantage of her. Okay, yes, she
had been the aggressor, but she was in a vulnerable state. She didn’t know what
she was doing. He was the one who should have known better. Just because he ached
for her so badly he could hardly think straight—God, when had he started
wanting her like this?
“Julian.”
His diaphragm
contracted, forcing out his breath at the sound of his name on her lips. He
cocked his head to acknowledge her call, still not able to look at her.
“Luc would like to talk
to you again.”
Julian nodded, downed
the rest of his coffee and took the phone without meeting her eyes. Businesslike.
Impersonal. That was how he’d be from now on. “Lucien.”
“Belle wants me to go,
Darla wants me to go. It’s the right bloody thing to do and I’ll do it. Just
swear to me you won’t let anything happen to her while I’m gone.”
He’d been avoiding it,
but now he couldn’t help but look at her. She stood in the doorway, eyes large
and solemn as she watched him. “I’ll guard her with my life. You have my word.”
Mirage cast her eyes
down, shuttering her gaze, and slipped out of the room. Out of sight, a
graceful illusion.
“No one will touch
her.” Not even me.
“I’ll hold you to
that,” Lucien growled.
Good .
“If you see Eisenmann, have him call me, all right? We’ve made real progress and
I’d like his professional opinion.”
“He wasn’t at Trident
today, but if we see him before we go, I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks.” He tried not
to dwell on how strange it was to be thanking DemonSpawn Wroth for anything. The
world just looked different these days.
He disconnected the
call and set the phone on the counter, jarringly aware that he and Mirage were
now even more on their own. He was excruciatingly aware of her in the other
room. It
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