Chapter Twelve
Half an hour later, marginally refreshed from his shower, Sam walked into the kitchen. The feverlike chills and shakes that’d plagued him earlier were gone. He wished to the devil the same could be said for his massive headache, but at least it was something he could deal with.
Cass had moved her quasi work base from the dining room to the kitchen island. She glanced up from her laptop and swept him with an appraising look as he ventured to the coffeemaker. A frown tweaked her brow. “You’re not glowing anymore.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yeah, it’s just…weird.” She pillowed her chin in her hand. “Other than that, how are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve got one mother of a hangover.”
She gave a considering hum as she tapped the computer keys. “I’ve been digging deeper into the research, but so far no luck with what might be happening with your body’s odd reaction.”
“Does it matter? My seal’s broken. It’s worth a damn headache for life, if it comes down to it.” Which, for all intents and purposes, might not be very long anyway. He snagged a mug from the cupboard and topped it off with the steaming coffee. He started to take a swallow but stalled short, giving the murky liquid in the cup a wary glance. “Your sister didn’t brew this, did she?”
Cass snorted. “Please.” She held up a mug identical to his. “Would I be drinking this if she did? I’m not that much of a glutton for punishment.”
Satisfied his gut wasn’t going to rebel at the contents about to be introduced to it, he gulped down a healthy swallow of the joe. His empty stomach made no further protest beyond a loud gurgle.
“I sent Nikki out for food,” Cass said, obviously commiserating with his near-starved state. “Knowing her, she’ll bring back donuts and Mountain Dew. Breakfast of champions.” She rolled her eyes.
He didn’t give a rat’s ass at this point. Hell, he was so damn hungry he’d eat a rat’s ass.
Okay, maybe not. Ravenous or not, he did have his limits. The mug warming his hand, he joined Cass at the center island. While he kicked the stool back with his foot and straddled it, she offered him a strangely sly smile before returning her focus to the laptop screen. Five seconds later, she shot him another covert look. Lips twitching, she took a dainty sip of her coffee.
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” She uttered the two words in that innocent way all women do when they’re holding a cherished bit of information they can’t wait to stab you in the back with when you’re least expecting it.
“Good.”
As he’d predicted, Cass’s cagey grin morphed into a frown. “You’re not supposed to give up that easily.”
Yes, he was. Especially since he suspected he didn’t want to hear whatever she was dying to say.
Giving a stubborn twitch of her nose, she wound a coppery strand around her forefinger. “You mumbled all kinds of things about her, you know. While you were delusional.”
Fuck. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t— “Who?”
“Bella. Or as you were fond of phrasing it…sweet Bella.” The sappy way she said Marabella’s name left no doubt at how idiotic he must have sounded.
Son of a bitch. If only the Quints had finished him off. He wouldn’t be dealing with the fallout of his damn delusion-based chattering now.
Cass’s smile returned. “I think you liked her. A lot.”
“My brain was mush. Anything I said then can’t be held against me now.”
Cass made a noncommittal noise that caused his gut to cramp. He cleared his throat. “What did I, uh, say exactly?”
“A bunch of stuff.” Her cheeks reddened. “Most of it I don’t want to repeat.”
Ah. Sex ramblings. He could live with that.
“But there was one thing that kind of surprised me. You called her moyet.”
The demon equivalent of mate. Shit, he really had been out of his fucking mind if he mumbled that bullshit. As a general rule, most demons didn’t partner up. It went against their nature to share living quarters day after day. Now a nice tumble in the sack whenever the mood struck—an entirely different beast. But cohabitation? The mere idea was enough to make any demon break out in a cold sweat. He honestly didn’t know how his aunt did it. Probably her only saving grace had been marrying a reaper. Because shit knows, two demons thrown into unholy matrimony would inevitably result in one strangling the other to death, and likely just for leaving the toilet seat up.
“Do you think you’ll ever see her again?” Cass asked, bringing him back to the moment.
“Who?”
Cass edged her cup safely away from her laptop. “Bella.”
He stared at her. “Are you out of your damn mind?”
“I don’t mean right now. Obviously with everything going on, that would be stupid. Not to mention it’s kind of hard to make a relationship work when you’ve got bounty hunters gunning for your ass. But maybe once things die down…”
He hefted from the stool and shoved an accusing finger in Cass’s face. “You’re supposed to be the sane and stable Lassiter sister. Don’t go all batshit crazy on me now.”
Her shoulders fell on a heavy exhale. “Is it so terrible that I want you to be happy, Sam?”
“I am. For Devil’s sake, my seal is broken, and I’m finally free of Pricilla and all those asshole council members.” He tossed his arms up. “I’m so fucking happy right now, I can’t stand myself. What more do you want?”
“We both know that doesn’t change the past. The things you were ordered to do to serve Antoinette…it affected you. Changed you.”
Remnants of memories threatened to barge into his brain, and he fought them back. He’d given Nettie forty-eight years of his life. The bitch deserved no more time in his head. “It was my job.”
“But—”
He gave Cass a hard look, silently conveying that the subject was closed. Huffing out a breath, she transferred her scowl to her laptop. He used the opportunity to return to the coffeepot and refill his mug. A phone rang—not his—and he glanced over his shoulder just as Cass lifted her cell to her ear.
“Nik, if you’re calling to ask if pizza goes with donuts, the answer is no.”
Relieved to have Cass momentarily distracted, he started to walk toward the living room. A sharp inhalation behind him halted him mid-step. He shot another look toward his cousin and noticed her staring at him, her cheeks unnaturally pale.
“Who is this? Where is my sister?”
Dread cemented inside his stomach. Even without the benefit of the other end of the conversation, he knew where this was headed. His suspicions became confirmed when Cass gulped and tightened her grip on the cell phone. Her gaze remained riveted on him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sam barely communicates with any of us.” Conviction laced her tone, but a distinct tremor ran through her arm. “So help me, if you’ve hurt my sister…”
Sam crossed the room and plucked the cell from her trembling fingers. “I’ve got a bullet with your name on it if you harm one hair on her head,” he offered to the faceless person on the other side of the line in a deadly calm voice.
“Really, Samael. Your rude manner of speaking to me is getting out of hand.” Pricilla’s chilly anger leached through the phone. It was a damn miracle the device didn’t turn to a block of ice. “I’ve been calling you for the past day and a half.”
“My line’s been disconnected. Guess that’s what I get for not paying the bill.”
As predicted, his sarcasm didn’t amuse Pris. “I don’t know how you severed our familiar ties, but count on this—the punishment I have in store for you will make you beg for the gentleness of Toran’s whip.”