In a shaky voice, Tanner says, “There was a coffin. An altar. It looked like they were preparing for some kind of ritual. They sensed we were there. They didn’t see us, but we had to run.”
“A coffin?” Mack rubs his beard as if he’s trying to put the pieces together but coming up blank.
“We couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying, but there’s something in the air.” Tanner visibly shudders. “Evil, Mack. Pure evil.”
“It’s seeping through the town,” Kole adds, his large Viking-like grasp tightening on my waist. “Making people behave strangely.”
“Then this must be it,” Mack mutters. “It’s starting.”
* * *
We talkfor what feels like hours, going round in circles until we’re so tied up and exhausted we can’t think straight. Eventually, I tell them we should go to bed.
“We need to sleep.” I run my hands up Tanner’s arms. While Kole seems to have shrugged off the darkness they felt at The Hollow, Tanner is still sickened by it. “Youneed sleep,” I tell him.
When he agrees, we leave Luther in the living room and go upstairs. There was a time when I hated sleeping with anyone else. With Johnny, I used to dread the nights he decided not to pass out on the couch and came crawling into bed with me. But with four burly mages curled around me, I feel safer and more loved than I’ve ever felt in my life.
My sad existence in Johnny’s apartment in Ridgemore feels like it happened centuries ago and, even though I’m probably in more danger now than I’ve ever been, I would choose this life a million times over.
This life, and these men.
They all fall asleep before me. I like it that way. I try to keep my eyes open, so I can learn the lines and grooves on their faces, and the way their bodies feel against mine. But as my breathing slows, and warmth envelops me, sleep finally has its way with me.
When I wake, everyone else is still asleep. Kole’s arm is across Tanner’s waist, and my head is on Tanner’s chest. Sam slept at the foot of the bed, hugging my legs, not yet comfortable enough with the other guys to be part of our night-time sandwich. Behind me, Mack is the big spoon. His strong arms encircle my waist. Wriggling back against him, I feel his morning erection stir in his pants. I look over my shoulder to see him open a sleepy eye and smile at me. “Nova,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep. We’ve barely had a few hours.”
I wriggle again but, when he refuses to play back, I stroke his face, kiss him, and say, “I’m going for some water. Don’t move.”
Sliding out of bed, I turn and look at them. The four of them. My heart swells. Not that long ago, I didn’t think I’d findoneman who would treat me the way they do, who’d make me feel the things they make me feel, let alone four.
I stop at the door and grab my long gray cardigan, pulling it on over my tank top and red underwear. There are four of them, but the prophecy saysfive.
At the top of the stairs, I look down into the living room, expecting to see Luther asleep on the couch. He’s not there. I pad quietly down, then cross the room to the kitchen. His empty whiskey glass is still in the sink, and now the whiskey bottle is empty too. How much did he freaking drink last night?
After drinking down a glass of water, I fill the kettle and put it on the stove.
I’m spooning coffee into a mug when the door opens, and Luther enters. He’s covered in sweat, wearing running shorts and a gray vest that clings to his torso. His arms bulge as he leans onto his knees to catch his breath. When he notices me, he stands up straight and reaches for a towel that’s hanging on a hook by the door.
“Running off the hangover?” I glance at the whiskey bottle.
Luther doesn’t reply, just pushes past me, grabs a glass, and fills it with tap water. As he drinks it down, I watch his throat. The movement of his Adam’s apple sends a fizzing sensation through my veins. I look away and turn back to the kettle.
After a moment’s silence, I say, “Have you and Mack made up yet?”
“We’re fine,” he replies gruffly.
Turning around, I lean on the counter and fold my arms in front of my stomach. Luther’s eyes flit to my chest, then my legs, catching on my red underwear. I pull my cardigan closed around my middle, and he looks away. “You don’t seem fine.” I raise my eyebrows at him then shake my head. “I don’t get it, Luther. What’s going on? Why are you so against me going to the gala? You took me toSpine; you didn’t mind that.”
“Spinewasn’t crawling with Bureau agents who want your blood.”
“And you care because…?”
He frowns.
“Luther, you don’t even like me, so why do you give a crap?” I step forward, glaring up at him.
“Because you’re supposed to save the world, and I think Mack is being pretty careless with you, that’s why.”
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Careless with me? Like I’m a delicate vase he might break?”