Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“You ran into Nessa.”
“Don’t think I can make that deduction on my own, huh?”
“Not with any certainty, no.”
Tristan took a deep breath. “Edgar told me he’d seen his shadow. I went up to investigate, since I figured Elliot wouldn’t be playing for keeps. She escaped—not that I tried to stop her.”
Brochan looked at Tristan for a long moment. “She deserves better than you.”
“There is no one better than me. Not for her.”
He huffed. “Have to love that ironclad self-confidence. You’re wrong, though. She deserves better. Than you, than me…”
“She just wants to bang you. You should let her.”
Brochan shook his head and turned a little so that he was looking into the guts of the house, where the others were probably still talking to the mages. Or calming them down.
“She’d cease to exist for me if I did that. I’d cut off all my feelings for her.”
“Do you have feelings for her?” Tristan asked.
“She’s beautiful. She’s fun. She’s a light in a dark place.”
“She’s a buoy you’re trying to cling to in a storm, you mean.”
“Yes,” Brochan admitted. “It isn’t fair to her.” He paused for a moment. “Truth be told, it’s hard for me, her being a mage. It’s harder knowing what she does for a living. I don’t respect it. I can’t think too hard about it because…then I worry I might not respect her.”
“Speak along those lines again, and I will make good on the impulse I’ve been fighting and beat the living piss out of you. She does what she does to survive. She’s light and bubbly to hide her pain because, unlike you and Sebastian, she doesn’t have a buoy to cling to. She’s everyone else’s buoy. She hates what she does, what she is, because people like you look down on her for it. But make no mistake, she and Sebastian are a huge component in why Jessie and Austin and Kingsley and his whole pack are still alive. Have a little respect for the sacrifice she’s making to ensure the people she loves stay in the world of the living.”
“I didn’t know. I apologize.” Brochan rocked from foot to foot for a moment. “You want to claim her, but you’d advise another male to bed her?”
Tristan chuckled. “It’ll get you out of her system, and then she can focus on me. Gargoyle culture isn’t like shifter culture. We experience sexual pleasure for what it is—a damn good time. If she wants to see a sword fight, or be sandwiched between two men, I’ll oblige. If she wants to double-team me with a female friend of hers, no problem. A few friends? I’ve proven adept at multitasking. Until she allows me to officially claim her, I’m fine to help her experience the pleasures of the flesh she has yet to try.”
“Until you officially claim her?”
“Yes. Because while I am part gargoyle, I am also a possessive motherfucker. Once she fully submits to me, she will be mine and mine alone. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Brochan grunted, and Tristan knew that was a yes.
“What’s the status with this dinner party?” he asked.
“Jessie can’t seem to catch a break. Another dinner party cut short. She and Alpha Steele are talking the mages down from hysteria, and then we’re going to head out. We’ll either pick up dinner on the way home or make it when we get there.”
“I’m ready for this trip to be over.”
“Same. One more battle to go, though.”
“The ex-in-laws,” Tristan said.
“Yeah. And I get the feeling it’ll be the worst of all.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Jessie
We strolled along a tree-covered pathway early the next morning. Austin had wanted to see my favorite spot from when I lived here, and I’d wanted to show him. Given today was Christmas Day and we’d have festivities from early afternoon until late, and tomorrow was the ex-in-laws’ holiday party, we’d had to rise with the roosters to knock this out.
I inhaled deeply as we made our way to the beach, the winter bringing a chill but the fresh sea air clearing my senses.
“I haven’t been up this early in a long time,” I said. “I used to love it. I’d get up at five or so, before Matt went to work so someone was home with a sleeping Jimmy, and go out for a walk. I couldn’t come here at that time because it was too far away, not until Jimmy was older, but the early mornings were always so peaceful. No crying kid. No demanding husband or huge list of chores. Just me, the fresh air, and a little time to think.”
“When were you able to make it out here?”
The path turned a little, emptying onto a little-known beach in Malibu. The waves crashed down, the white foam crawling up the wet sand. A couple of seagulls flew by, looking for food.