Текст книги "Artistic Vision"
Автор книги: Dana Bell
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Artistic Vision
The Gray Court – 3
by
Dana Marie Bell
Dedication
To Mom, who agreed to babysit my little angels while I took Dusty to his first Steampunk Ball. Why is it they’ll follow Nana’s rules without a whimper, but not Mom’s? I want to know what you bribe them with! And do I get any? It’s gotta be some good stuff…
To Dad, who still loves to tell embarrassing stories about me to people I don’t know. You had to know I could hear you, right?
Finally, to Dusty, who looked damn good in his cowboy-steampunk outfit. I only have one thing to say: giddy-up!
Chapter One
Shane studied the statue, currently sitting in the window of one of New York’s finest art galleries, with a critical eye. He gestured toward the assistant in the window to adjust it, stepping back again to view the results. He shook his head, still not satisfied. “The lighting’s wrong.”
One of the gallery’s employees rushed forward and began to change the lighting shining down on the piece. He coughed, trying to hide his amusement as the gallery owner flittered around him like a manic butterfly, breath misting in the chill evening air. The pooka always seemed nervous whenever Shane dropped by. “We’re so sorry, Mr. Joloun. We’ll fix it right away.”
“It’s no problem, Mr. Klaussner. I know this was a last minute addition and I’m just happy you were able to accommodate my request.”
The little man fluttered some more, pleased with himself. Bart Klaussner had been one of the first gallery owners to give him a break, and Shane had made sure he got as many showings as he could handle. Shane was loyal to those who’d helped him along the way, and if his success helped Klaussner, so much the better. “Yes, Mr. Joloun. If I may say, it’s a wonderful piece. Possibly one of your finest.”
Shane allowed his smile to break through. “Thank you. It’s very special to me.”
“It’s a shame it’s not for sale.”
Shane shook his head, his eyes drawn once more to the magnificent flying figure he’d tried to capture in his art. “No. I’d never sell this piece.”
He ignored the way the gallery owner stared at him. Instead, he enjoyed the way the light shown on the gleaming metal sculpture. It came nowhere near how wonderful she actually looked in flight. The graceful curve of her wings, the gleaming gold of her horns, the fire and passion in her every movement captivated him. The cold chrome and brass sculpture was merely an homage to the woman who’d captured him, heart and soul.
“What did you say this piece was called again, Mr. Joloun?”
Shane grinned, not surprised when the gallery owner took a step back. He had a good idea what his expression looked like. It was getting harder and harder to hide the hunger riding him for the woman who had stolen his soul. “ Akane.”
The child of Dunne will one day perform an act that will change our world.And with those simple words from the Seer, Akane’s world had been changed, possibly forever. Instead of dancing around New York, Milan, Paris, Monte Carlo and Los Angeles, she was stuck on a farm in Nebraska babysitting one of the most annoying men she’d ever met in her life. Except when her charge chose to disappear on her, that was.
“God damn it, Farm Boy. Where the hell are you? I don’t have time for this shit.” Akane Russo stomped through the slushy New York streets and wished she had time for a little shopping. Here she was in Manhattan, surrounded by luxury, and she couldn’t do crap about it. Shane Dunne had disappeared from his Nebraska farm and the Hob wanted to know where he was—pronto. It was a pretty stupid stunt for Shane to pull, considering the danger his family was in from the Black Court and the Malmayne clan. They’d already kidnapped him once and tortured his sister-in-law to get what they wanted. So what the hell was he thinking, running off to New York by himself? She’d thought better of him, but apparently she was wrong. When most people had the Black Court on their asses they hid behind the Blades like good little boys and girls. Shane, the idiot, just hopped a plane and headed on a merry little jaunt to New York on some kind of lunatic holiday.
The man was a moron. She no longer had any doubts about that.
She turned a corner and snarled. It was starting to snow again, the cold flakes dripping down the back of her neck, below the collar of her cashmere sweater. “Feh. I hate the cold.”
She sniffed the cold air, desperate for a scent of the Nebraskan, but all she got was exhaust fumes and the frustration of every New Yorker stuck trudging through the slush with her. “I’m going to kick his ass when I find him. Kick it and then drag it back home.”
She paused, then shook her head. Home? Since when had the Dunne farm become home? Akane was a city girl through and through. No Green Acres for this Prada-wearing female, thank you very much. Akane crossed the street, glaring at a cabby who dared honk his horn at her.
It was time she “looked” for Shane. She just needed to find a nice, quiet spot to do so, one where she wouldn’t be disturbed for a few seconds. She found it, ducking into a doorway and staring up at the sky like she was hoping for the snow to stop falling. Which, however you looked at it, she sort of was.
Akane allowed her inner eye to open. The pale star in the center of her left iris expanded, granting her that second sight she so relied on in her work. She focused her thoughts on Shane, picturing his striking red-gold hair, his sparkling sapphire eyes, his scarred farmer’s hands that had cradled hers so gently.
A swirl of power filled her vision, that green and gold signifying his mixed blood, leprechaun and Sidhe. Beneath that swirling light was Shane, but whatever it was he was doing she couldn’t tell. The light of his power blinded her to his actions.
Shit. She’d never find Jethro at this rate. She closed down her inner sight with a sigh. She was tired, her feet were cold, and she wanted a latte in the worst way, but if she didn’t find Shane soon her ass was going to be a chew toy for Robin’s hobgoblins.
She stepped out of the doorway and winced as the last of the evening light glinted off of something metal in the window next to her. She turned her head to catch whatever it was that had reflected the light.
Akane gasped. She was staring in the window of an art gallery. There, on a black pedestal, surrounded by black velvet, was a silver and brass sculpture. It rose majestically from some sort of crystal base, seeming to float in the air. It swirled and dipped with ballerina-like grace, dainty and feminine despite the masculine medium of metal and glass. She stepped closer to the window, enchanted, almost breathless at the sense of flight the figure exuded. She could see wings quivering in the lines of the piece as if it just waited for a moment, a breath and it would take off, forever free. It spoke of strength, elegance, and a fierce desire to fly.
She wanted it in a way she wanted very little else. The dragoness half of her blood yearned for the piece in a way not even a diehard chocoholic at the window of a Godiva store could comprehend. She glanced down at the card at the base of the statue, wondering who’d created the piece and if she could afford it. When she read the name of the piece she stopped breathing.
Akane, by Shane Joloun. Not For Sale.
Shane Joloun.
“What the hell?” She stomped into the art gallery. Dear gods, she could smell Shane all over the place, his scent rich and earthy and oh so tempting. She grabbed the first person in a suit she caught. “Excuse me, can I speak to the owner please?”
The owner was soon fetched. “My name is Mr. Klaussner. How may I help you?”
There was something odd about the man’s scent. She took a deep breath, nodding to herself when she smelled pooka and something else, something elusive. He was definitely fae, that was certain.
The gallery owner eyed her designer attire and his demeanor changed from simple curiosity to an almost puppyish charm.
“The piece in the window. Who made it?”
The man smiled, all charm. He didn’t even question why she didn’t just read the placard under the piece. Her obvious wealth allowed her some eccentricities. “Shane Joloun, of course. He’s become a famous sculptor in the last five years, and we were thrilled to have a hand in introducing him to the art world.” She nodded, for once speechless. Shane was an artist?
Jethro?
Seriously?
Her eyes strayed back to the sculpture in the window.
He’d named that exquisite piece Akane.
The manager’s voice broke into her thoughts before they could go too far in a direction she really didn’t want them to. “Would you like to see other pieces by him? We were lucky enough to get a shipment, and of course the artist himself was here until just a short while ago, helping us arrange them.”
She followed behind the little man, stunned by what was on display. Shane’s work was, without a doubt, the most stunning she’d ever seen. His sculptures sang, wept, took flight and left you breathless, wanting more. She couldn’t take her eyes off them. Metal, glass and stone were his playthings, and he shaped them into objects that fed her soul and touched her heart. She desperately wanted to reach out, caress them. Own them, so she could look upon them whenever she desired and feel her heart was full.
She pointed to one in particular that spoke to her. It reminded her of a cat on the prowl, but there was something oddly human in the features. Something female. There was a hint of mischief in the way the cat held its tail, a playfulness despite the glittering unsheathed claws. “I want that one.”
“Yes, Miss—”
“I’m not finished.” She’d spotted another, one she needed for Jaden, her partner and one of Shane’s new brothers-in-law. Three faceless figures writhed in glass flame and metal shadow, backs arched, hands clenched around one another, two bowed over one protectively. What struck her as oddly appropriate was that it wasn’tthe smallest figure being protected. To her, that middle figure represented Jaden, and everything he’d thought he’d lost when Duncan had Claimed Moira with a single kiss.
Where others might see only pain in the figures she saw pleasure, and battles overcome. Had Shane created it with his sister and her two bondmates in mind? “And that one.” It was a perfect gift to give to the newly minted lord of Clan Blackthorn and his family. And she bet the one who would appreciate the symbolism the most would be Duncan, Jaden’s bondmate and the former lord of the Malmayne clan.
“Ah. Yes.” Mr. Klaussner signaled to his employee, who placed a Sold placard in front of both pieces.
She reached into her purse and held out her credit card, not surprised when the man’s eyes went wide. It was an extremely rare card, given only to the very wealthy, and Mr. Klaussner’s gaze ate it up before he could shield them. “You say the artist was here until just a short while ago?” When Klaussner nodded she smiled, all innocence. With her small size and big, unusual eyes, she’d gotten more than one man to do what she wanted with just a look. “Is there any chance I could meet with him?”
Klaussner shook his head sadly, the credit card cradled in his fingers. “I’m sorry, Miss—” he glanced down at the card, “—Russo, but Mr. Joloun has already returned to his family estate. I believe he went straight to the airport from here.”
The family estate could mean only one thing. Shane had gone back to Nebraska. “Thank you, Mr. Klaussner.” She smiled again, amused when the man’s cheeks flushed.
“Where may I have the sculptures shipped to, if I may ask?”
Akane rattled off Jade’s address, knowing the vampire wouldn’t mind her using it, especially since one of the pieces was for him. Klaussner barely batted an eye when she said Nebraska, but his shoulders tensed just a hair. Deep inside it pleased her that this man was protective of Shane, even if it was only for the money the artist made the gallery owner.
She thanked Klaussner and stepped back out into the New York evening. Shane was on his way home, and it was time to report in to Robin. She spared one last, wistful glance at the sculpture in the window, her heart staggered once more by its beauty. Could it be that this was the way Shane saw her? Truly?
Her hand was on the cold glass before she realized it, reaching for the beautiful artwork she couldn’t take her eyes off. She snatched her hand back and stepped away, yanking her gaze from the window. She set off briskly, hailing a cab to take her back to her hotel room. She’d need to pack and appraise Robin of Shane’s return to Nebraska quickly, before she found herself back in the art gallery, surrounded once more by Shane. She didn’t think her heart would be able to withstand it if she stayed there even a moment longer.
If she did, it might no longer be hers.
“Sir? You saw?”
Shane stepped out of the shadows and grinned. Her reaction had been even better than he’d hoped for. “I saw. Thanks, Mr. Klaussner.”
“You’re quite welcome, Mr. Joloun.” Klaussner waved at his assistant again, and the man, apparently psychic from what Shane could tell, answered the unspoken command. He began to carefully remove Akanefrom the window and replaced it with another one of Shane’s sculptures, complete with placard and price. “Shall I have it shipped back to your studio, Mr. Joloun?”
“Please do.” As if Shane would allow Akaneto be sent to anyone’s home but his own. This one was special. This one was theirs, and some day Akane would accept it, and the artist, and all that went with them. Until then, until the day he could Claim and Bind his mate to him, Akanewould stay with him.
Shane grinned as the assistant wheeled Akaneto the back of the gallery and through the storeroom doors. He couldn’t wait.
He thanked the gallery owner and left. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he’d long since learned by heart. “She’s going home.”
“Good. She saw your sculpture?”
“Yup. And she reacted the way you predicted she would.”
A soft, feminine laugh sounded in his ear. “Did you make her present yet?”
Shane grinned. He’d been working on Akane’s birthday present since the day he met her. “It’s almost complete. I have the final component now. I’ll finish it once I’m back in my studio.”
“Wonderful. I look forward to hearing my daughter’s screams of frustration.”
I look forward to hearing your daughter scream for an entirely different reason.“I’m sure she’ll find many hours of pleasure in it.”
“I’m certain she will as well. Have a good flight, Shane.”
“Thank you, Seer.” Shane hung up and took a deep, happy breath. So far everything was going the way he’d hoped it would. He was allowing little bits and pieces of the realShane to shine through for his mate, just enough to tease, to tantalize, to keep the dragoness sneaking closer and closer instead of driving her away. Akane had no desire to have a mate, but as far as he was concerned it was already too late.
She had one, and she’d learn to love him whether she wanted to or not. And if she doubted that?
Well. She’d never dealt with a determined Nebraska farm boy before. Akane was in for a rude awakening if she thought for one moment he was ever going to let her get away.
He remembered his first sight of her, her long, meticulously curled black hair gleaming in the moonlight as she tried to fake him out. She’d acted all innocent, her huge, strange eyes wide, her pouty lips pursed in a smile. Her mother’s Japanese heritage was all over her. With her almond-shaped eyes and small nose she’d looked like an anime doll brought to life. It was only in her dragon form her father’s ancestry shone through, from the tips of her wings to the slash of her tail. She’d turned out to be a tiny little thing when he finally got her out of her car, barely five feet tall if he were to guess, with a waist his hands could span easily and a temper that could light the world on fire. All of it was hidden behind an assumed innocence that made him laugh just to think of it. And her eyes…oh, those gorgeous eyes of hers. Shane got hard with just a glance from of those incredible eyes. One eye was a pure light hazel; the other, dark brown with a startling light hazel star in the center. Black brows were a straight slash above them, giving her a stern expression, and were probably a truer indication of the woman than the big eyes and pouty mouth.
Gods, he wanted that mouth in the worst way.
“Shane Dunne, is that you?”
Shane froze. That haughty voice was familiar. “Henri Malmayne. What a surprise.” He turned to face the blond man and his equally blonde companions. Henri was the new White Court lord of the Malmayne clan, duly appointed by Glorianna herself once she’d removed Duncan Malmayne as lord. She’d removed him because his new brother-in-law had mated not just Shane’s baby sister but his bond-brother, the vampire Jaden Blackthorn. Glorianna hated vampires with an unholy passion. It was unheard of for any of her people, let alone the lord of a clan as powerful as the Malmaynes to have a vampiric mate. Most vampires who chose not to walk on the dark side were Gray Court for that reason.
The problem was, the Queen of the White Court had put in place a lord whose allegiance was, at best, murky. At worst, Henri was working with the Black Court to control a prophecy he couldn’t possibly understand. Shane himself was still uncertain what was supposed to happen. How could Henri hope to even begin to comprehend it? All they had to go on was the Seer’s obscure words: A child of Dunne will change the world as we know it. Being the Malmaynes, they’d latched onto Leo, the most Sidhe of the Dunnes, thinking his seed would provide the much sought-after child. They’d kidnapped Shane first. When they hadn’t been able to force Leo’s compliance, they’d kidnapped Ruby, Leo’s bondmate, and tortured her, all for a few vague words.
Worst of all, they’d used Black Court help to do it.
“Why would you be surprised? The Malmaynes have many businesses in New York.” Cecelia Malmayne was hanging all over her cousin Henri, smirking at Shane like he was dog poo she’d narrowly avoided stepping in. “What are you doing here? Hoping to catch some culture?”
Her sister, Constance, merely looked confused, as if she couldn’t understand what a rube like him was doing out of the sticks. Didn’t these people know one of the richest humans in America lived in Omaha? That it was counted among the top ten cities to live and work in?
He gave the blonde bitch his biggest, goofiest smile. It seemed to drive women like her insane. “Gee, Miz Malmayne, I sure do hope so.” He resisted rolling his eyes. His father might not be as politically powerful as the Malmaynes, but he was just as rich as they were. Leprechauns were good at making money, especially in land development. But because he chose to live his life working his land, Sidhe like the Malmaynes looked down on the Dunnes.
Idiots.
Something flashed before his eyes, and Shane took a quick step back and to the side. “Y’all watch out for that—”
Henri, Cecelia and Constance shrieked as a cab pulled up to the curb in a sudden, lurching stop, spraying them with slushy, filthy water.
“Cab.” Holding back his grin, Shane opened its door and climbed in. “It was sure nice seein’ ya!” He grinned once more, knowing exactly how he looked: non-threatening. Their low grumbles were music to his ears as he slammed the door shut and the cab pulled away, the cabbie snickering quietly all the while.
“God, I hate them.”
Shane stared at the cabbie. Huh. A sudden, clean breeze in the otherwise sealed cab told him all he needed to know. “Are they giving the sylphs here grief?”
“The sylphs, the brownies, the sprites, you name it. Anyone of the quote-unquote lesser fae have to deal with their shit. Fuckin’ assholes.” The sylph hit a red light and turned, his bright blue eyes full of laughter. “You’re the hybrid, aintcha?”
Shane blinked. “Um…” How the fuck did this guy know who he was?
The cabbie grinned and turned back around. “You keep giving Akane a run for her money. She’ll give in.” He sniggered. “Eventually.”
“You know her?”
“She saved my sister from a Black Court vampire. Tore the fucker’s head clean off his shoulders. As far as I’m concerned, she walks on water and turns shit into gold.”
“She’s mentioned me?”
The cabbie laughed. “Let’s just say you’re gettin’ under her skin.”
Shane turned to look out the side window with a wicked grin. “Good.”
He barely acknowledged the fae’s chuckle. He had to get home before Akane did, or the jig would be up. He’d fly into Omaha and make his way to his studio. If she arrived at the farm before he did, he could always claim truthfully that he’d been there, working on a new piece. His fingers twitched, eager to get his hands back on his work, the visions driving him into the studio almost as strong as his desire to have Akane for his own.
She’d found another piece of him now, another something he’d managed to keep hidden from her. He couldn’t wait until he was with her again. Had she managed to puzzle anything else out?
And maybe, just maybe, he’d steal a kiss from his dragon and find out what fire really tasted like.
Akane pulled up outside the Dunne farmhouse. It was an old Victorian, stately and tall. It was difficult to tell the color in the dark, but it was a soothing blue, the trim a blinding white. A huge wrap-around porch with a real porch swing gave the old Victorian a homey feel.
Hell. There was that word again: home. She couldn’t let herself get too attached to this place, or the people in it. She was a Blade, and one of Robin’s finest assassins. She couldn’t afford what a loving family would do to her.
Akane yawned so hard her jaw ached. Gods, she was weary. At least Robin had put his personal plane at her disposal, allowing her some peace on the long flight from Nebraska to New York and back again. But the drive from Omaha to the farm had forced her to acknowledge exactly how exhausted she was. She could use a good long soak in the tub and a quiet night to recharge and refresh. She’d never learned the knack of sleeping on a plane. Something about sleeping while flying just sat wrong with her.
She stepped out of her brand new Porsche Boxster and ran her fingers down the gleaming black finish. God, she loved this car. If Shane did anything to her new baby she’d rip his gonads off. It was his fault the last one had gotten blasted to smithereens. If he hadn’t hidden it in the barn the day Charles Malmayne had sent the redcaps to attack the Dunne farm, the salamander would never have blown it to bits.
At the sound of a deep bark she grinned. “Sal!” She crouched down, accepting ferocious doggie kisses from the fifty-pound German shepherd. A lick of fire danced across her skin as the dog wiggled, happily welcoming its mistress home.
“Do I get a kiss too?”
Akane fell on her ass at the sound of that deep drawl. “Fuck.”
“Well, I thought that might come later, but if you’re that eager…”
She glared up at the man who’d managed to give her more than one sleepless night. He was grinning down at her, his big, scarred hands deep in his pockets, his butt resting on the hood of the car. He had one ankle crossed over the other.
“Get your ass off my car, Jethro.”
That grin widened a hair. “Well, shucks, Miz Akane. Is this one of those ek -spen-sive cars?”
She rolled her eyes and took the hand he offered her. She found herself standing way too close for comfort. “It’s worth more than your hospital stay will be if you don’t move.”
He chuckled, the big bastard, and rolled easily up and off the car, his arms wrapping around her. She reared back as much as she could as his big head lowered, but despite her dragon heritage she couldn’t quite bend back far enough. Shane took her mouth in a careful, questing kiss, as if he understood she could and would bite him if he pushed too far.
Part of her hoped he would do just that. Shane tasted incredible, with just an undertone of something rich and metallic. Her inner dragon purred, but Akane held the sound back. No way could she let him know how much she enjoyed the intimate touch.
He released her and took a step back, staring at her with wistful greed. The wistfulness was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but the fact it had been there, that he wanted her that badly, sent her heart racing. “Welcome home, Akane.”
She hid her shiver as best she could, but damn it. His voice did things to her, especially when he used that deep, warm tone he only directed at her. “This isn’t home.” She sniffed and almost stomped past him, remembering at the last minute the dirt driveway beneath her three inch heels.
“More home than you’ve ever had before.”
She paused; something about his tone set her back up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His rich laugh followed her into the brightly lit house. The cream-colored walls and dark, sturdy wooden furniture wasn’t her taste, but Aileen and Sean Dunne fit right in here. They’d blended early American with a number of pieces they’d moved from Ireland for a look uniquely their own. Framed prints of Ireland mingled with family portraits. The dark green fabrics of the furniture grounded the softer, cheerful yellows Aileen had strewn about the room in the form of pillows and flowers. The only odd note was an amethyst vase Leo Dunne had given his mother, sitting in pride of place on the mantelpiece. Akane took a deep breath and felt something tight within her ease at the now familiar scents of raw earth, polished wood and family.
She blinked.
Family? Since fucking when?
She growled low in her throat and headed for the kitchen, knowing Aileen Joloun Dunne wouldn’t be happy if Akane didn’t stop in to say hello before heading to her room. She shrugged off the thought of her room, plastering a smile on her face for Aileen’s sake.
“Gods, child, you look exhausted. Here, have a seat and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.” Aileen’s soft Irish accent had a bit of Brit in it, marking her as from one of Ireland’s conquering families. The fact that Aileen Dunne considered herself Irish through and through would have had no effect on those intent on destroying anything British back when the IRA flourished. It was probably why Sean Dunne had moved his family to America in the first place.
“You’re a saint, Aileen.” She glared as Shane made his way into the room, gifting his mother with a kiss on the cheek. “Unlike some people I know.”
Aileen’s tinkling laugh filled the room. “Ah, now. Have you two been fighting again?” Her hair fell to her waist, a straight, shining curtain of glowing red-gold just a touch darker than her son’s. Slightly tilted green eyes the color of emeralds peeked out from under the longest, most lush lashes Akane had ever seen. Her chin was delicately pointed, her nose fine and aristocratic, her lips full and pink. She could see the resemblance between Moira, Aileen’s daughter and Jaden’s female bondmate, and her mother, but she could find little of the woman in either of Aileen’s tall sons.
“A wonderful sound to come home to.” Sean Dunne stepped in from the cold, his wool-lined jacket a shade of green exactly matching his wife’s eyes. He stepped in for his own kiss from Aileen, but where Shane’s had been filial Sean’s was that of a man marking his territory.
Now here was where she saw Shane. Oh, Shane mostly had his mother’s coloring, but when it came to size and shape, he was his father’s son. Tall and strong, Sean Dunne was head and shoulders above his dainty wife, with gleaming dark hair and eyes the color of a summer sky. Shane had his father’s eyes, but deeper, more intense, as if something in Sean had been refined within his oldest son.
She turned to find Shane studying her, watching her reaction to his father’s kiss. She raised her brows and leaned back in her chair, daring him to comment.
When he did nothing more than give her that knowing, irritating grin she turned back to his parents. “How are Ruby and Leo?”
Aileen’s shoulders tensed for a brief moment. “They’re fine. Settled in nicely. Leo’s business is on hold until this Child of Dunne shite is taken care of.”
Akane almost gasped. Aileen hadn’t cursed the entire month she’d known the woman, at least not in polite company. It wasn’t the way the Sidhe lady had been raised.
She caught sight of Sean’s worried look. Aileen had to be more upset than Akane had thought. “I will fix this. I give you my word.” She meant it too. Shane aside, the Dunne family had been good to her.
Aileen smiled at her. “I know you’re doing your best, Akane, and we’re grateful for it.” A mug of tea was placed in front of her, sweetened just the way she liked it. “And I think you’ll be wanting a bath after this?”
Akane nodded. She was so tired she couldn’t see straight, but damn if she’d let Jethro see that. “Yeah. A bath sounds nice.”
That annoying grin was off Shane’s face. “Bedtime right after.” The command in his voice matched the challenge in his expression. He practically dared her to disobey him.
If Akane wasn’t so tired she’d take him up on that dare.
“Shane.” The warning in his father’s voice would have amused her if she wasn’t so drained.
“Da, I know what I’m doing.”
The two men exchanged an enigmatic look, but to her surprise, Sean backed down first. “All right, then.” He brushed a brief, surprising kiss across the top of Akane’s head. “I’ll go change, then. We’ll keep the house quiet tonight, Akane. Get some rest.” And he sauntered out of the room, Aileen’s eyes glued to her mate’s back.
The speculation in them was soon turned on Shane, who held up his hands, his expression all innocence. “What?”
Aileen’s gaze narrowed. “Hmph.”
When Shane merely chuckled, she shook her head and turned back to the stove.
The dinner simmering on top would normally have tempted Akane to steal at least a bite, but she was at the point of tired where she was feeling nauseated. She stood and went to the sink, rinsed out her cup and placed it carefully in the dishwasher. “I’m going to call it a night.”
Aileen’s hand reached out and cupped her chin. The Sidhe was taller than she was, but not by much. Then again, most adults were taller than Akane. “Sleep, child. We’ll let Sal keep watch again.”
