Remi chuckled. “Bet he loved that.”
I shrugged. Remi's smile fell as he studied my face for a few seconds.
Reni leaned forward, he dropped his voice so that only I could hear him. My heart took flight like a pair of hummingbird wings. He smelt like laundry detergent. I found myself moving toward, drawn into his space.
“Mara, what's wrong?”
I jerked back. Shaking my head, I forced a mouthful of curry into my mouth and used that as an excuse not to say a word. My smile tightened.
Was I the only one that felt our Bond?
“What were you talking to Hugo about?” I asked, swallowing my food. “Picking up some handy tips for your wedding night from the resident sex expert?”
Remi snorted. “You think I’d need help in that department?”
Jealousy stabbed my insides, turning them to hamburger meat. “Hugo’s an incubus. I've seen his dreams. That man knows things you couldn't even imagine.” I embellished.
Remi's eyes hooded. “Is that so?” He purred in his British accent.
My expression turned saucy. “He’s good with his mouth.” That wasn't a lie. Hugo and I had kissed, Remi didn’t have to know that was all we had done. I enjoyed the tangible reaction that I got from the jokester. Intrigue. Teasing. Daring.
I had been so absorbed in a silent standoff with Remi, that I hadn’t noticed that someone had approached our table.
Alicia Greenlea.
She looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue, not in a Demon Hunter's compound.
I had never had a body to dress before. Style was part intuition and part study. It did not come naturally, in my experience. I was lucky that Frankie had a wardrobe already, as I couldn’t bring myself to care about what I wore. Mainly because in the past, it hadn’t mattered. Looking at Alicia made me feel awkward. I didn’t like it.
“Remington, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Her lips were smiling, her eyes were not. Both her hands rested on her narrow hips, as Alicia Greenlea looked at me with a sort of smug superiority that I had only seen on the faces of Hell Sovereign.
I wiped my hand on my shirt and offered it to the redhead. “M-Frankie.” I stuttered, as I almost slipped up and said my true name. Remi's attention had thrown me through a loop.
Alicia looked down her button nose, her expression grew even more sickly-sweet. “I thought y’all used rank here?”
My brow furrowed at her use of the word y'all. I turned to Remi. “I thought she was from Connecticut?”
Alicia gripped Remi's shoulder. “Have you been talking about me, Remington?”
Remi forced his own smile on his black cherry lips. “No, Alicia.”
“Are you on Remington's team?” Alicia asked, decidedly not taking a seat at the table.
“Yep.” I did not elaborate.
“So, you're who Remington has been spending his nights with?” Her laugh was a confident tinkle. Her words had been pointed in a way that I did not understand.
I glanced at Remi. “Yes?” I answered. Remi had kept me company in my cell for many nights. I assumed that was what she was talking about.
Remi smothered a laugh, putting his hand over his mouth.
Alicia's hand, still on Remi's shoulder, tightened enough to strain the fabric. Remi's expression went blank.
“My Remington is such a friendly soul. He doesn’t realize that it gives people ideas.” Her eyes flashed.
“Okay.” I nodded, but my expression broadcasted 'wtf.' Her words said one thing, but I had the feeling she meant something else. Whatever she was trying to say was lost on me.
“Mara is just a friend, Alicia.” Remi reached out and patted the hand on his shoulder.
Alicia shot him a glare. “Remington.” She hissed his name as an admonishment.
I pushed my chair back, unable to finish my food. “I’m going,” I announced, but neither Remi not Alicia paid me any mind. The female Witchling was too busy laying into Remi as I walked away.
I found Hart in the fenced area next to the kennels. I leaned back against a tree, as I watched the typically silent and expressionless man throw a tennis ball for a golden retriever. The dog yipped with excitement, rolling over in her haste to reach the ball. Black lips peeled back over her teeth as she tried to catch it in mid-air.
Hart let out a whoop when the dog finally picked up the ball and trotted back to his side. Hart rubbed her head, kneeling down to the dog's level and cooing like a proud papa bear.
I stepped forward, approaching the fence to let myself be seen. Callum Hart straightened, his hand in the cookie jar expression melted away, barely a glimpse, before his impassive stare was back.
“Is that Dixie?” I asked, tilting my chin to the sitting dog. Her thick tail swished from side to side, kicking up dust.
Hart nodded.
I wiggled my fingers at the golden retriever but stayed behind the fence.
“You can come closer if you like. Dixie loves everyone.” Hart winced at the awkwardness of his own words.
“Nah.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Dog’s don't really like Demons, so...” I added, dropping my voice so I couldn’t be overheard.
Without another word, Hart marched to the gate and stepped through. He tugged my sleeve. “Come here.” He ordered, moving back to the enclosure with me in tow. Dixie sat, still smiling a beaming doggy-smile, and wagging her tail.
Hart deposited me in front of his dog. He held out his hand and reminded Dixie to stay. “She won't hurt you.”
I twisted my hands together. “I don't want to stress her out.”
“She’s fine.” He assured me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. My voice cracked. “But—”
“Mara.” He warned. “Pet the damn dog.”
“Seven Hell’s, you're bossy,” I grumbled, kneeling down to Dixie's height. “I think I liked it better when you didn't talk, Marmalade.”
Hart rubbed his face. “Look, if you're scared—”
I blew a raspberry. “Please.” I whispered under my breath as my trembling hand outstretched to rub Dixie's furry head. The beautiful girl vibrated with excitement. Hart once again commanded her to stay. I couldn't believe it. I was close to a dog. She wasn't freaking out. The whites of her eyes were normal, she hadn't lost it and tried to bite me. Dixie nuzzled into my hand, and let out a bark.
“Beautiful girl,” I whispered in awe.
Dixie took my words as encouragement. Leaping forward, she placed her heavy paws on my shoulders and pushed me backward. Slathering my face with kisses, I looked up to see Hart's smug expression.
“She likes you.” He told me. For some reason, that felt vital. Like I had passed some sort of test.
I laid back in my bed, eyes closed tightly as I tried to sleep.
When I wore my true form, I existed in the world between reality and dreams, there was no bridge. Wearing Frankie's body had dulled my sight, but it was a small price to pay for the ability to interact with the world.
I couldn’t seem to differentiate between Frankie's body and my being anymore. I had grown roots.
A jolt of electricity twanged through my body, a discordant note of arousal. I sat up; the comforter fell around my waist. I looked down at my pebbled nipples, hard enough to cut through glass.
“What in the Seven Hell’s...?” I wondered out loud as I pressed my lips together to stop my whimper. It felt like a hot and slippery tongue had traced the edge of my nipple. A warm hand on the span on my ribs. My eyes fluttered closed as pleasure coiled inside of me like a waking beast.