Remi reached out and cupped my face. I leaned into his touch.
Hart shifted. “You did not mention that you were seeing Specialist Weber.” He said stiffly.
I popped my hip. “So?”
Hart licked his bottom lip. “No reason.” The bearded man murmured. “I have to get back to my dogs.”
Then Remi and I were alone.
“What was that about?” Remi asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Hart and I kissed yesterday.”
Remi's lip twitched. “Oh my.” He stepped forward into my space. He was so much taller than me that his body crowded mine. “Do you like to have more than one man at a time, love?”
I shrugged but smiled playfully. “I’ll take as many as I can get.”
Remi's eyes hooded. “I must admit. That has always been a fantasy of mine.”
“What?” I breathed.
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “To be one of many that worship a woman's body at the same time. To treat her like a Queen as I make her shudder and moan.”
His words aroused me, but they also tickled a niggling little part of me. I was no Queen. I was a Drude. The lowest on the Demonic totem pole.
I had never been treated like a Queen, not in all of my millennia of existence. Remi looked at me like he wanted to spread me on a table and eat me like a feast—I couldn’t help but wonder what that would feel like.
Chapter 8
I burst into Dr. Ahn-Jae Lee's cabin, past the client area and Dr. Lee's office, and into his private kitchen. I leaned against the threshold and struck a pose. His beautiful violet eyes widened as he froze, caught in a trap.
Jae Lee was wearing a white gingham apron. With frills and oversized oven gloves on his hands. He was in the process of transferring a cake from the oven to a cooling rack.
“Is it time for your appointment, Ms. Gardiner?” Dr. Lee said without emotion. Straightening and brushing the front of his apron.
“I’m early.” I studied the Nephilim carefully, unwilling to be subject to his magical truth juice now that I was aware of his power.
Jae huffed as he slipped his hands out of his oven gloves and placed them delicately on the granite counter.
“I was bored.” I went on to say, with a shrug. “Hugo and Davenport are holed up, doing research. Remi is in the city. I'm avoiding Hart.”
Jae crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the countertop. “And I'm the last member of Team P.” He surmised.
“You’re interesting. Just don’t do that truth thing anymore. M'kay?”
Jae quirked a brow. His expression was placid, but his eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t aware that I had been doing anything.”
“It’s okay, Dr. L.” I raised my arms up to stretch, with a smirk. My flat stomach exposed when my tank top rose up. His violet eyes did not so much as dip from mine. “I won't tell if you don't.” I winked.
Jae Lee sighed, glanced back at his naked sponge cake, before gesturing for me to walk through to his office.
I bounced on my heels and flopped down onto the couch. Jae made a point of organizing his notepad and pen, just so, and then sitting in his chesterfield armchair. His legs crossed, ankle resting on his knee. Both his arms on the armrests. Jae Lee had delicate features, but he had a masculine aura. Something about the way he sat told me that he was entirely at ease with himself.
“Davenport spoke to me,” Jae said. Breaking the silence.
I cocked my head to the side. “And?”
“He told me not to listen to a word you say.”
I snorted and blew a raspberry. “Davenport’s the one that assigned me therapy after I was verbally attacked by Fisher.”
Jae's lip quirked. “He also told me that he only did that because it would look suspicious if he didn’t.”
“Right.”
“Warren Davenport mentioned that you have had a traumatic experience and that I shouldn't be worried if you start acting differently.” Jae Lee continued, resting his him on the meat of his palm. He did not take his eyes from mine. “Why he felt the need to tell a licensed therapist this, I don’t know.”
“Davenport likes telling people what to do.” I bared my teeth in a jaunty smile. “It’s literally in his job title. Command-er.”
“I trust my commander.” Dr. Lee said.
“As you should.” I nodded as if I had the first clue as to what he was talking about.
“I trust Francesca Gardiner.” He continued, his expression turned speculative. “I don't trust you.”
“You’re getting it.” My smile turned vicious. “What gave it away?”
“Apart from the fact you literally told me?” Jae's expression turned dark. “Your emotions.”
My brow furrowed.
“I am an empath.” He explained. “As are most Nephilim. You feel too different from Ms. Gardiner. She was ice. You are not.”
“You put on a good show last time.” I gave a soft round of applause. My smile turned sardonic. “An ADHD diagnosis.”
“My diagnosis stands.” He said.
I pouted. “I can focus. I just don’t want to.”
Jae nodded to himself. “You taste like cinders, metal, and mischief.”
“You taste like birthday cake,” I replied.
“Frankie Gardiner did not taste like you.” He continued.
“Do you like my taste?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I’d like to know what you are and why you're here.”
“I’d like to know why you bake cakes in frilly aprons and live in a cabin away from the rest of your team.” It was a statement and a question.
“I can't live with my team. I’m an empath.” He explained dryly. “I would be exhausted from all of the emotional runoff.”
“Do I exhaust you?”
“No.” Jae’s eyes flashed.
“And the cakes?”
“My Umma came over to America during the Korean War. She got a taste for Western cakes when she got old.”
The Korean War was in the fifties. His mother had either come over when she was very young, or Jae Lee was much older than he looked. As a half-Angel, I would guess the latter.
“Mimic Sidhe,” I said. Two words. Not a lie, just not what I was.
“And your true form?” Jae perked up.
“I’m shy.” My tone was dry.
“Davenport knows?”
“His idea. I'm here to draw out Frankie's killer. I was poisoned yesterday. We have some ancient writing on the surveillance footage. They’ll figure out who or what did it, and I’ll scurry away back to The City. Sipping mojitos at Le Bain, in their rooftop pool.”
Jae sat back. His eyes dropped to his lap. “Corporal Gardiner is dead?” His voice held no emotion. “Does anyone else know?”
I shrugged. “Just Davenport, I think.”
Jae rubbed his hand over his face and swore. “Warren thinks that it was an inside job?”
“A summoning.” I clarified, my smile tightened. When people said summoning, they assumed a Demon. Which wasn't always accurate.
Jae nodded as he sat back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.
“Why did you keep pretending I was Frankie in our last session, even when you knew I wasn’t?”
“You’re fun to annoy.” Jae murmured, his gaze far away, focused above. Distracted.
I tsked. “I don’t understand humans.”
“Nephilim.” Jae reminded me.
“Half human.” I corrected myself as I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know how to comfort you. I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” Jae admitted. “No one ever really does. I wasn’t close to Frankie... But when a Hunter dies, it sucks.”