On the Edge (The Edge, #1)

by Ilona Andrews

True, Declan was heartbreakingly beautiful and hypnotic to watch. But she would have even more fun when she watched that muscled back and that perfect ass recede as he walked down the path away from her house, never to return.

Georgie furrowed his eyebrows in thought and looked at Declan. “Don’t eat her fried chicken. It tastes good, but she puts rat poison in it.” The inscrutable mask on Declan’s face shattered. He leaned forward and laughed.

Declan gently deposited Jack into her arms. “I’m sure it would hurt his feelings, but he makes a handsome kit.” “You should’ve seen him when he was a baby,” Rose said through her shock. “Nothing but fuzz and ear tufts. Every minute was like a National Geographic Kodak moment.”

“We were in the Red Legion. We did the necessary things people don’t want to know about.” “Black ops?” she asked. What do you know, Latoya proved right—he was one of those bug-eating, wilderness-surviving, take-out-terrorists-with-a-pinecone-and-bubble-gum types.

“Give me a few minutes.” “You have time.” He sat in the grass. “Are you just going to sit there and watch me?” “Yes. Watching pretty peasant girls is what we poor little rich boys do best.” “Peasant?” He shrugged. “You started the name-calling.”

She handed him a glass of water and two Aleve gelcaps. “They’re anti-inflammatories. They will dull the pain a little bit and keep down swelling and redness. Swallow the pills, don’t chew.” “Well, I thought I’d stick them into my nose and impersonate a walrus, but if you insist, I’ll swallow them.” Rose blinked. Too much time with Jack and Georgie, not enough adult interaction. Next thing she knew, she’d be threatening to take away his comics if he didn’t finish his dinner. “Jack always tries to chew his,” she murmured. “Sorry.” “He told me he tried to eat cardboard.” “And candles. And soap.”

I surmised Georgie and Madame Éléonore might be in the attic. Bringing the house down with magic would have been bad form. It’s generally advisable to keep the people you attempt to rescue alive.”

His face turned cold. The smile remained, but it gained that polite, icy tint the bluebloods adopted when they wanted to strangle the conversation with courtesy.

“Why are they fighting?” Jack asked. William jabbed his fingers at Declan’s side. “They’re close friends,” she said. “Like brothers. It’s easier than talking things out.”

I would never tell you this, if you hadn’t insisted on coming on this dock, because that means you feel it, too. This used to be about honor, and duty, and my dislike of Casshorn. Now it’s about you.” “Me?” She tried to concentrate on the next group of hounds swimming through the water. “I would give all of myself to keep you safe. To do that, I have to kill Casshorn. It’s a simple trade. Casshorn has to die, so you can live. Two sides of the same coin. I love you, and you’re the measure of my wrath.” “What did you say?” She flashed too hard and missed the hound. He stepped in and sank a focused shot of white into the three bodies squirming in the water. “I said I love you, Rose. Easy on the flash.”