Rune had seldom questioned what his liege did, believing Orion had cause for all his actions. Now his first instinct was to confront Orion. But if the Undoing had targeted Apparitia, it must have been for a reason. What if he’d planned to assassinate two hybrid children?
If Rune alerted him, Orion might finish what he’d started. . . .
Josephine laughed and tossed a pillow at Thad. He caught it telekinetically and sent it right back at her.
Where did this night leave Rune? Was he to interrupt this bonding when all her dreams were coming true?
That mortal woman had described Josephine sobbing at the window as she’d given up Thad. Now Josephine had been embraced by this family. No longer was she gazing in from the outside. Rune was.
He burned to talk to her, to be with her. But she’d given Thad a week; shouldn’t Rune give her the same? He told himself seven days was nothing in an immortal’s life—even as he dreaded the prospect.
Yet that didn’t mean he’d leave his mate and his brother here unprotected. Rune would take up residence in the carriage house by the pool, scent-and soundproofing it. From there he could watch over this family, contemplate what to do about Orion, and allow Josephine’s temper to cool.
Unless she called for him, or wondered where he was. Or needed him for blood. Otherwise . . .
I’ll give you one week, little mate.
SEVENTY-ONE
Jo lay in bed, head on her pillow, staring at the talisman on her nightstand.
Sleeping in this big bed without a towering dark fey still felt weird, even after so many days had passed.
At first, the excitement of seeing Thad—and her efforts to live in this household—had overshadowed her grief from losing Rune. She was still psyched to be with her brother, but now she pined for her ex.
Her first day here, Thad had gotten a call from Regin, detailing what had happened at Val Hall after he and Jo had vanished.
Jo had been blown away. Apparently so had Val Hall, thanks to a primordial werewolf.
And Rune had defeated the Scourge. “Somehow your archer scored a phoenix feather!” Thad had excitedly told her. “He used it for the flights on an arrow and shot the wraiths to kingdom come.”
With a surge of nausea, Jo had realized the feather was the key he’d earned from Meliai in exchange for great sex.
Then Rune had threatened Nïx and all her immortals, the “Vertas MVPs” as Thad called them. But in the end, Rune had made a vow never to kill Nïx—so he could neutralize Jo’s vow.
He’d done that in front of his allies. For her. . . .
Thad had also told Jo he wanted to help Regin and the others rebuild Val Hall, explaining, “The Vertas is more than just Nïx. Besides, she isn’t even there. She told everyone she was taking a vacation for a while.”
Jo had tried to make light. “Vertas, Møriør. Hey, let’s let the freaks work this out in the schoolyard on their own.”
“Regin and the others didn’t know you’re my sister. Nïx told them you’re a hardcore Møriør here to unleash monsters and enslave us all.”
Nïx, you bitch, that’s how rumors get started. Then Jo had frowned. I did have strong Møriør leanings.
Because I fell in love with one.
After that day, she and Thad never talked about Rune specifically. She tried to hide how badly she yearned for the dark fey, but didn’t know if she was fooling anyone.
Rune had once told her Darach Lyka could find anything in the worlds; Thad hadn’t traced Jo too far from Val Hall. Rune had to know where she was. She’d thought nothing could keep a Lorean from his mate, yet he’d never contacted her.
She figured he must have returned to Tenebrous with the other Møriør. Even if he’d headed back to Earth directly, the journey would take a while.
Not that she would ever resume things with him. But it would be nice to return his talisman, get her bullet necklace back, and find some closure.
Was closure possible between mates?
Anything is possible in the Lore! she thought bitterly.
Hanging out with her brother was the only thing that could have kept her distracted. Over the last week, she and Thad had laughed. They’d watched movies. They’d swum. Jo had demonstrated how to ghost into shells and go fully invisible.
Soon she would show him how to delineate one’s territory and protect it—and how to crush fight-stealing pimps.
If Jo had been a feral cat at the beginning of the week, the Braydens might have domesticated her a scoch. For Thad, Jo had been making the effort to get along.
The first day, he’d awakened her abruptly. “JOOOO!” he’d yelled from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready!”
She’d shot upright in bed, disoriented because she’d never had a wakeup call before and had barely slept. She’d dreaded dreams of Rune, hadn’t wanted to see any more of his past when she couldn’t handle his present.
Bleary-eyed, she’d gotten dressed, snagged the talisman she’d set on the nightstand, then stomped downstairs into the kitchen. “What the fuck is this, Private Benjamin?”
Gram had been there along with MizB and Thad. Oops.
MizB had told the woman, “Ma, I want you to meet—”
Gram had already shuffled over to Jo. Before Jo could hiss, the woman had kissed her forehead. “Hello, child.” Then she’d shuffled back to the stove, all no-big-deal.
Over breakfast, MizB had asked if they had any plans.
Jo had rocked her chair back, balancing on two legs. “I was thinking about teaching ole Thad here how to roll drug dealers for coke-dusted cash. Maybe pummel some pimps. Don’t they give Eagle Scout badges for shit like that?”