Oh, and one more: Right now, my job requirements are a serious pain in my ass.

And a last one: I can’t wait to be naked with you.

“You don’t have a thing to be sorry about.” Bella stroked his super short skull trim. “And you know where to find me.”

“Tell my Nalla I said hello? And that Daddy loves her.”

“Always.”

Sweeping his arms all the way around his terry-cloth-clad mate, he tilted her back so that her weight was his to bear. Then he brought his lips to hers… and kissed the ever-loving crap out of her.

When he finally stopped, she was flushed, panting, and fully aroused. “Oh, my…” she said in a breathy way.

Well. Didn’t that make a male feel two feet taller.

“I really wish I didn’t have to go,” he growled.

“Yeah. Me, too,” she said with a laugh.

One more kiss and then he left the room walking backwards because he didn’t want to leave her. And yet he sometimes didn’t want to face her, either. After all the time they’d spent together, and the beautiful young they’d created, and all the love there was between them? Sometimes he disappeared even when he was standing in front of her.

Yet she understood him enough to let him go to the spaces he fell into, content to wait for his return.

“Later,” he vowed.

Bella smiled in a way that made him wonder how fast things could happen in Wrath’s little frickin’ meeting. “Later, my male. Maybe I’ll even run away a little just so you can catch me.”

The tips of Z’s fangs started to tingle, and his upper lip curled back. The animal in him loved when he got to chase her, and boy, she loved being caught.

He was still growling deep in the back of his throat as he stepped out into the Hall of Statues. Stalking his way to the open double doors of Wrath’s study, he was surprised to see everyone already crammed into the four-walls-and-a-ceiling.

He’d assumed it would just be him, filling the King and Tohr in on what had happened with the Qhuinn stabbing. But nope. It was standing room only, every fighter in their normal positions on and around the delicate antique French furniture, the big bodies and loud, deep voices sucking up all the air in the room. The King was likewise behind his sire’s giant desk as usual, sitting on his sire’s giant old throne, the golden retriever in his lap like a throw blanket with all that blond fur. George, Wrath’s guide dog, was looking at everyone and offering wags, even as he would never leave his master’s side. Whether he was on the lap, by the feet, or sitting pretty at the dagger hand of the King, George’s friendliness was pervasive, but his love and loyalty singular.

Z went over to the corner he usually stood in. Phury, his twin, was there, along with Xhex.

“How’s by you?” his brother asked quietly. “Do you know what this is about?”

Wrath spoke up around his dog. “Are we all here? What are we doing? I’m not getting any younger.”

The great Blind King, now democratically elected, was already frowning behind his wraparounds like he’d been waiting for twelve hours, his widow’s peak and long black hair making him look more than a little evil, especially as he clipped his words.

&n

bsp; Then again, the male could work himself into a lather over the delay of a second and a half.

Tohr, who was at the King’s side, cleared his throat and spoke up over the din. “We’re all here.”

“Do your thing then, weatherman,” Wrath muttered as the chatter eased off its raucous boil.

Tohr nodded. “Thanks for coming, everybody. So it looks like we’ve got a serious snowstorm on the forecast tomorrow and—”

The double doors, which had been closed, were thrown open, and what was standing in between the jambs was a sight for no eyes. Like, absolutely, positively no eyes whatsoever. None.

Lassiter, the household and race’s favorite fallen angel—at least if you asked him, that was, and if you asked anybody else, you’d get the statistic that there was in fact only one known fallen angel on the planet—struck a pose, hands on hips, chest puffed out, feet planted like he was ready to get his legs judged by ANTM.

“What the fuck are you?” someone said.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” V muttered as he lit up a hand-rolled. “I volunteer to start the list with moron.”