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Mason put a strong hand to the back of her neck and massaged. She loved his hands. She’d have claimed him for his hands alone. The fact that they were attached to the rest of him . . . easiest decision ever. She couldn’t wait to make him hers. If Webb or Brand would just call her back so that she could claim Fletcher, too.

“This is not the first time a fae has crossed,” Mason said. “Segue has had experience with several others. Now that the wraith threat is somewhat under control, their time is taken up more and more by the fae. There are resources. We have a base of knowledge to draw from. We need to assemble a team of people we trust. And we’ll come up with a solution.”

“There’s an obvious solution.”

“Even Xavier thought better of it. And you were pretty wicked looking.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

Was wicked good?

His eyes lit as he bent his head to kiss her again. “Oh, yeah.”

She guessed it was.

His mouth moved against hers in a caress. With his hand at the base of her skull and his lips pressing hers, her tension eased. Maybe it would all work out. They’d faced an ancient angel. What was an immortal insane fae, really?

“We should get you back to Dolan House,” Mason said, pulling away.

Cari nodded, regretful. She had a lot of work to do, and it was best done from her father’s office. “But I want you to know, I love it here.”

“We’ll come back.” The lines around his eyes were smooth and easy. He meant it.

She went upstairs and he followed. She changed into her own clothes, though wrinkled. Ran a brush through her hair, and then tried for a smart ponytail for the boat. She put on mascara, but the blush in her compact had cracked and now was a crumbly mess. Well, only her stepmother would expect her to look polished after fighting an angel.

She was just lifting her bag, on loan from Layla, when Mason leaned into the bedroom, gun in hand. “Someone just broke through the water line.”

Groaning, she dropped the bag. “What now?”

“Maybe someone doesn’t want you to try for the Council.”

She screwed up her face. “Preemptive assassination?” This just got better and better.

They both froze when footsteps sounded on the back porch. Mason put his back to the wall and pushed her into the bedroom. Very gallant, but she wasn’t hiding.

The back door downstairs opened, the screen banging shut.

“Hello?” a female voice called out.

Maria? Cari mouthed to Mason. The nanny.

He shook his head no.

Didn’t sound right anyway. The voice was too young. Too familiar, though she couldn’t place it.

“Mason?” the voice called again.

Then Cari knew. Her stomach cramped. She’d utterly forgotten to consider one other House, one other woman, who might claim Mason and Fletcher.

“Son of a bitch,” he said.

Bitch was an apt word to describe her.

“Mason?” Livia Walker called. “I’m home.”

Stealth peed inside the wall between Mr. Webb’s office and the little study where the old lady, Bran’s aunt, liked to read. The yellow arced like a stripe of rainbow in the beam from his stolen flashlight and splashed on the wood.

The search dogs had led the house guards to the places where he’d gone to the bathroom. The first time had just been lucky, but after that he’d made sure to pee everywhere he could fit, except the hidey-hole where he slept and kept his stolen grub. Too bad he couldn’t get at a phone. His had been found and the one on the kitchen wall had been dismantled. They were on to him.

“Well, we now know what the child can do,” Mr. Webb said to one of his men. They were on the outside of the wall, in the hallway that led to the office. “And it makes sense, considering he has Walker blood. I should call them and find out what they do to keep hold of their children.”

Fletcher frowned. He hadn’t thought this superpower could come from his mom. The idea made him feel funny inside. She hadn’t wanted him, but he was still connected to her. He was like her, even though she’d left him behind. He wanted to be like his dad. Would his dad be mad if he was like her? Was that why he’d been left behind again? Why hadn’t his dad come yet?

“I’ve had enough of this,” Mr. Webb said. “My office is beginning to smell. And now that Brand is recovered, she’s going to press me about him. The stray has already left several messages.”

Fletcher’s chest went bright. His dad had been calling. He’d come and get him soon.

“Bring me Bran. It’s time I ended this nonsense, and my heir should see how it’s done.”

Six years. She’d walked out six years ago. And now she thought she could just walk back in? “Stay here,” Mason said to Cari. “I’ll get rid of her.” Took balls for Liv to call this house her home. He was going to throw her in the water and let her swim the half mile to shore. What if Fletcher had been here? What would this have done to him?

Mason put his gun in the back of his pants and started down the stairs. Cari, who always did as he said, followed at his heels.

They did not need this now.

Liv was just stepping around the sofa when he spotted her. Her blond hair was lighter, styled a little loose and curly. She’d gone with a red dress that showed a lot of cleavage and a lot of leg. She had gold around her neck, on her wrist, and her fingers. And a crocodile smile that turned into a grimace when she spotted Cari behind him. “Cari,” she said by way of hello.

Mason braced himself with one hand on the wall. “What are you doing here, Liv?”

She rapid-blinked to brighten her smile again. “I have news.”

“You have nothing to say that could interest me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She was doing the posing thing she used to do, where she’d shift her weight to accentuate her curves. He used to like it, but now he wondered if she was going to eventually throw her back out.

“And this isn’t your home,” he added. It hadn’t been for a long time.

The Shadow in the air grew more dense. Not a good sign.

“I believe my name’s on the deed.”

Okay, that had been stupid of him. He’d wanted so much to make his own House with her that he’d put the place in both their names. “I’ll buy you out.” He didn’t have the money right now, but he would get it. The messages on his phone meant that he had job offers. He’d take the dirtiest and give Liv a pile of money she didn’t need.

“I don’t think so.” Her scent hit him—a perfume toned low and sensual. It was the scent that chiseled through his anger to where the pain of her leaving was stored. For her he’d tried to build something solid. Something that he could depend on. She’d made promises.

“I’ll give you double its worth,” Cari said.

No, he’d own this for himself. The Alexandria Bay island was his and Fletcher’s. Even though only one of them was left.

“I don’t want to sell it.” Liv looked around the room, as if remembering good times. “The house is beside the point anyway.”

Not beside the point. Never beside the point, after what he’d done to get the place.

“Just say it,” Cari said.

Mason glanced at Cari, whose jaw was twitching. How did she know what Liv was up to? Dolan and Walker were ally Houses, but still—Cari hadn’t said a word about Liv to him. Until this moment, he’d thought they didn’t interact much. But maybe they connected occasionally. Or maybe they were friends.

Liv smirked as if she’d won something. “It’s what we always wanted, Mason. Walker House is claiming you and Fletcher as our own.”

Bitch stole my line. Cari was going to kill her. She was going to wrap her hands around Liv’s neck and squeeze until her eyeballs popped out of her skull.