7. Cassandra

CASSANDRA

Hands come down over my eyes, blocking my view of the book I’d been reading, hidden alone in the room. I frown, confusion and annoyance at being interrupted. While I’d been present with Eris throughout the time I’d been possessed, I still missed so much of the world as it changed. Eloise had found me a modern history book, while Deidre had told me about a pop culture documentary. Wren offered to tell me about technology, but that seemed much too overwhelming.

Not to mention, this all might not even be worth the effort if we can’t pull this off.

Still, I’d always loved to disappear into books, and reading about things I’d only gleaned is fascinating. I’m reading about the interspecies politics between the paranormal world and the human world after the Second World War made pretending we didn’t exist impossible.

“Guess who, little witchy?” A smooth baritone voice croons against my left ear. The words are filled with mischief, identifying the speaker immediately. My heart practically erupts as I shriek and push his hands away. The book falls from my lap to the floor with a hard slap as I leap up but I ignore it to whirl around, a smile stretching across my face.

“Rhys!”

I fling myself at him, stepping up onto the club chair I’d been lounging in, and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. His bellow of laughter fills a place that had been missing since I returned. I adore Ashe, and the rest of the Nightshades, but Rhys and Ezra were the two vampires who truly became my dear friends.

He hugs me just as tight before releasing me when I pull back. I’m still standing on the chair, which I’m sure would cause Ambrose to wrinkle his nose if he saw. I hold Rhys by the shoulders, pushing him back until he’s at arm’s length.

“Let me look at you!”

Rhys’ golden eyes sparkle as his lopsided grin appears. His dark hair is cut short, practically shaved on the sides, while the top is long enough to flow back in a small wave. Rhys looks like the supposed rock stars in Deidre’s movie. He’s got the lean, muscular frame, the slightly tanned skin, the leather jacket, and the cocky swagger. His golden eyes are rimmed in a slight red, but I’m not worried he’s about to sink his fangs into my throat and feed. While he might not be the model citizen, he’s not a mindless monster.

“Cassie,” Rhys breathes my name like a prayer, his smile softening into something more genuine. He pulls me into another hug, and I laugh. Rhys is an affectionate creature, and I missed that. Ezra, his pseudo brother, is the same way.

“You know I hate that name,” I growl in jest. He holds me tight against his chest and pulls me over the back of the chair. He only releases me when I’m steady on my feet.

“Wouldn’t want Ambrose to exile you for dirtying his furniture.” Rhys’ tone is teasing, but his eyes dull. It’s enough for me to know that Rhys still holds resentment and hurt from Ambrose’s decision.

Ezra had done the one thing Ambrose explicitly forbid all demons within the Barrows. Decades ago, the demons had been stirring up trouble in the Barrows—something Eris found amusing though stayed neutral in. Back then, the demons wanted to take the souls of humans, their new leader believing it was their due. Ambrose has only ever allowed bargaining and only on the strictest of terms. It nearly came to a civil war, the Nightshades against the demons. But Ambrose had been able to negotiate a truce. It helped that the upstart leader had been killed by his own supporters.

The night before the agreement was signed, Ezra violated the agreement. He claimed a soul. Rhys had begged Ezra to reveal who it was, but Ezra refused to allow them to be punished along with him. Ambrose, furious, exiled Ezra out of the city—a Nightshade no longer. Rhys intended to follow him, but Kasar and Malachi had stopped him. I still don’t know how.

I gentle my voice. “Still no sign of him?”

Rhys shakes his head in a pained jerk. “It’s like he’s not even on Earth anymore, let alone in the country.”

Rhys gives me and Kasar a pleading look, and both of us shrug. Rhys awkwardly pats his side, asking to be let down. Malachi doesn’t let him go once he’s back on his feet. Instead he grips one shoulder and the back of Rhys’ nape. The commander of the Nightshade vampire’s soldier’s face is grim; grim enough for worry to lift its head.

“Everyone around me is mated, Rhys,” Malachi intones. I let out a breath and roll my eyes. “Even Josephine is having a romance with Wren’s driver! Though—truth be told, I don’t think they’re mates.” Malachi grimaces and shakes his head. “That’s like picturing your mom having sex.”

He grips Rhys tighter, almost shaking him. Humor replaces my worry at the vampire’s antics.

“Seriously, though. I am the only unmated vampire in this house. It’s disgusting. They’re all so in love! I can’t escape the sickly stench of lust and heart eyes.”

Rhys tugs free of Malachi, whose eyes go wide with dawning horror. “Oh, fuck. Not you too, Rhys. Tell me you don’t have a mate.”

Rhys barks a laugh and shakes his head, which makes Malachi wilt in relief. “No, not mate for me. Too busy touring and sampling women across the country.”

Malachi slaps his palms together as if in prayer, his head tilted back as he looks to the ceiling. “Thank you; someone who still gets his dick wet.”

I cough, covering my mouth with a fist as I try to hide my laugh even though my cheeks flame. They are all so much more . . . explicit than I’m used to.

A rumble of a growl comes from beside me and Malachi rolls his eyes dramatically as he looks at Kasar. He cocks a brow, egging the Lion of the Barrow on. Malachi is on his own with this one, I think as I step away with a wry grin.

“If my dick is dry, it’s only because it’s being milked daily.”

Oh, goddesses. I slap my hands over my ears, my face flaming even brighter. Something I thought impossible. Thankfully, I’m saved.

“I’m sure you aren’t talking about our sex life,” Deidre says as she strides into the room, a tablet in her hand and Lan behind her with his own. She gives Rhys a once-over before quickly dismissing him. As if she hadn’t just reprimanded her mate, Deidre walks up to Kasar and boldly grabs the messy hair he’d tied back and yanks his head down for a kiss. A kiss that is entirely too inappropriate in public.

“Malachi is simply envious he isn’t having as much sex as the rest of us,” Lan drawls, making Malachi sputter and try to claim he’s having plenty of sex.

My blood has been replaced by sheer mortification at this point and I’m ready to melt into the floor. I do -not- remember these males being so open in conversation. If Eris knew this was happening, I’m sure she’d be rolling on the floor, cackling at me.

Ashe appears at my side, his hand on my lower back as he looks down at me with concern.

“Cassandra?”

Without thought, I bury my face in his chest, thankfully hiding against my mate. His arms come up around me, and along with his warm, campfire scent, I can smell grease and gasoline. He’d been working with the cars as Ambrose had asked earlier.

More voices join the din and, somehow, my mortification grows at my display of nerves and clearly being a woman new to this time. Ashe cups the back of my head, coaxing me to look up at him.

There’s some amusement in his face and I scowl pointedly.

“I believe you all owe me,” Josephine announces and the room goes silent. We all turn to look at her, even Ambrose and Eloise, who I hadn’t realized joined us. Josephine looks smug, like the cat who got the cream and the canary. She inclines her head towards us before casting her gaze around the room. “Did I not say they’d come back together within the day?”

My eyes go wide and my throat dries enough to choke me as her meaning hits me. Even Ashe stiffens before chuckling lightly and moving me until I’m tucked against his side.

Everyone—Malachi, Lan, Kasar, Ambrose—and even the women, Eloise, Deidre, and Wren nod, different expressions across the group.

“You couldn’t have held out one more day,” Deidre grumbles accusingly at my mate as she slaps a fifty into Josephine’s outstretched palm.

It takes a moment, but then a shocked expression takes over my face—one that probably makes me look like a squeezed frog. “You all placed wagers on Ashe and me?!” My voice was a shriek by the end, making Ashe wince. I glared around the room and no one had the grace to look chastised. Only Rhys holds up his hands as if surrendering.

“I didn’t know about this,” he quickly defends.

Kasar rolls his eyes. “Which is the only reason why you didn’t have money in the pool.”

Rhys drops his hands and his grin tells me Kasar is absolutely right.

I ball my fists, irritation replacing humiliation. I want to stomp my foot but I refuse to give in to such a childish urge.

“To be fair, the topic of you and Ashe’s reunion has come up sometimes,” Eloise says from where she’s beside an amused-looking Ambrose. I’ll admit they make an adorable pair, not that I’d ever say that to the vampire king’s face. He is tall and regal, wearing a tailored black suit that oozes wealth, and dominates the room as a quiet promise of death and power. Eloise only comes up to his shoulder because of the mess of black hair bundled on top of her head, and wears what I recognize as leggings and, if I’m not mistaken, one of Ambrose’s button-down shirts. She’s not thin, but thick and soft with curves—the perfect opposite of Ambrose’s hard cut lines. With her, he’s more expressive than I’ve ever seen. He’s looking down at her like she’s a sweet morsel he wants to devour. It’s enough to make my stomach twist, the need for my own vampire to hunt me down growing.

“And with how Eris liked to taunt Ashe, some of us thought he’d hold out to be sure it wasn’t just another joke on him,” Malachi added, in a way that made it clear he was one of those.

“Oh, leave the poor mates alone,” Josephine tuts even as she tucks the folded bills discreetly into a pocket. She looks at me, giving me an understanding yet beseeching look. “Unlike the rest of these fools, I remember how devoted you two have always been to one another. I knew that your love would pull you together, no matter the reasons why either of you tried to resist.”

Before we can discuss anything else, Ambrose clears his throat, taking control of the room. “I believe we have much to discuss and organize. I suggest we move to the dining room.”

“Food, tea, and coffee will be out as soon as you are all settled,” Josephine says over her shoulder as she leads the way. Ashe holds me back, pressing his nose against my temple and breathing in deeply. My eyes flutter shut, my heart becoming a warm spring, soothing my irritation away. I lean into him, the slightest pressure, and let him ground me to the earth and my body. I release a shuddering breath and straighten, smoothing down my linen blouse and skirts out of habit.

“Thank you,” I murmur, turning just enough to press a kiss to his lips. I meant it to be brief, but Ashe lingers. He sups at my lips, never deepening them, never pulling me tighter. It’s a gentle worship, an adoration, and it turns me to a puddle quicker than snow falling on a fire.

“Are we fucking or are we planning to kill an angel?”

Lan’s shout ruins the moment. Well, not entirely, as we pull apart. The bond between us is still open, something I thought would take me more time than we had to earn back.

“Ready?” Ashe asks, lacing his fingers through mine.

“Together,” I reply, squeezing his hand.

He grins, the one that captured my heart the first day I met him. I beam back. “Then let’s go figure out how to kill this angel.”