Page 204 of Commanding Blood And Bonds
A laugh skipped off her lips when I scowled back at her.
“Don’t look like I ghasted your flabbers. Who else would deliver an entire group to Reyna without a word?”
“Does she know?”
“No. I didn’t see a point in ruining your street cred, Crew.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, fighting to keep my balance as I yanked on my boot and she did the same. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right here and now, and be through with this?”
“You and I both know you don’t want that kind of debt, don’t we? Midnight tomorrow. I’ll come alone. You do the same. Trust me, I want witnesses to this bullshit alliance as much as you do. It’s an unfortunate necessity. Nothing more.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Wait for us to leave. Gimme three minutes to get them out of here and then get the fuck out. Don’t take the alleys. We own this block. Get to the main road and jump back to your Queen.”
“She’s not my queen.”
A snort was my only response as we both yanked our clothes back into place. Buckling my belt, I breathed, “You’ve got brass, little one, I’ll give you that. But you’re playing a game with no clue who’s on the board. You can’t win. They will eat you alive, and I’m not gonna stop them again.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Maybe.” I picked up my jacket. She’d certainly held her own thus far, to my entire hierarchy's chagrin. “But maybe not. I know what my men do to playthings, and it’s not fucking pretty.”
“So change that.”
“Our only rule is to not upset the balance. What they do within that is their fucking prerogative. Like I said, you’re safer to keep a wide distance.”
“Nice cop-out,” she spat, yanking her sweater back on.
I smirked, straightening the collar of my jacket. “Nice ass. Now that, I would do.”
She narrowed her eyes on me. “Thought I wasn’t your type.”
“You’re not. But I’m not that picky. Pussy is pussy.”
“Gross,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose—reminding me so much of that thirteen-year-old girl every kid at camp thought was adorable. That teenage girl I tried and failed to hide my soft spot for, right up until she saved my fucking life.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I offend the delicate sensibilities of the nightmare hellbent on destroying my life?”
“Get fucked,” she jabbed back.
I jerked my head toward the door behind me. “Three minutes.”
THIRTY-NINE
DISOBEDIENT PRINCE
FREYA
I thought the South was supposed to be warm. No trace of that Southern heat lingered when the bitter, damp cold sank into my bones the next night.
Aren had always preached arriving early—first to the location meant first to understand the terrain, to detect hidden threats, to take control. But as a shiver rolled through my ribs and my lips trembled, I cursed whatever sadistic deity decided forty degrees could exist with sixty percent humidity.
I leaned against a marble mausoleum—newer, judging by the lack of mildew and grime. Death never bothered me, but even I was a little unsettled by how close it loomed here. The sense of other pressed in on all sides.
A gust of wind—not wind, shadow—heralded Cyrus’ arrival. I turned just as he materialized.
