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Slap her hand and tell her to fuck off! I seethed. Ian did neither. He only smiled wider.
he totally knows she’s there
“Ashael, this is Ian. A bag of jewels is yours if you come to me at once.” With that unusual toast, Ian downed his shot and waved for a new one, which his very attentive waitress handed him. Then he repeated the toast and drank again. Not a toast, then. An alcohol-based summoning ritual. Ashael was either very powerful to hear Ian’s call with such a weak conduit, or he was so attuned to booze that he should get an AA sponsor immediately.
Moreover, from her scent, my wife is already brassed off, and you do not want to meet her when she’s angry.”
yup, called it
“Brother,” I said, opening my eyes. Ashael’s smile turned into a smirk. “Little sister.”
oh my god
“Whenever you want to see me, raise a glass and call my name in any of the places I frequent. Ian knows where they are.” “Yes, I’m aware of your alcohol-based summoning ritual. Very millennial of you,” I noted.
Now his hand was in my hair. I tilted toward it to see if I enjoyed that more. If I didn’t, I could always rip his hand off.
“Begin the copulation!”
“Your hair.” He’d actually started to recoil from me before he caught himself and stopped. Ian rolled his eyes. “Really, Crispin? Act your age.” Cat was more succinct. “What the hell, honey?” Bones sat back down, a flash of embarrassment crossing his features. Then they hardened and his aura flared as if arming itself. “Your. Hair.” Each word was an indictment. “Rude,” Cat hissed to him before saying, “I think your lowlights are cool,” in a louder voice to me. “Granted, I’m a Buckeye fan, and blue and gold are Michigan colors, but—” “They’re not a Wolverines tribute, Kitten,”
“Whether you’re Veritas the Law Guardian, Ariel the vampire-witch, or Death’s scary demigod daughter. Doesn’t matter. In all your forms, in every manifestation of yourself, I love you.”
fucking finally, I’ve been waiting so long for this
“Tell no one of Ashael,” I gritted out, “and I vow that I will never kill you, Ereshki.”
but Ian can :)
“No,” I said, my voice booming in a thunderous way I’d never heard before. It sounded, I realized, like my father’s did when he was angry. “You’ve been sentenced.”
this is some good shit
“The last time I felt your power, you were not at the spot it originated from by the time I arrived.” The last time . . . “How long ago was that?” I asked warily. His wave was dismissive. “Four or five thousand years.”
“You’re twice my age, and you know a lot more about our father than I do, so . . . did you hear anything about me being betrothed prebirth to a gold-winged, possibly ancient Greek deity named Phanes?” “The fuck you say?”
