“Yoohoo!” Washer’s voice carried from somewhere, and I leapt up so fast I nearly headbutted Orion in the face. He lurched backwards then hurried to the bedroom door, tugging it open a crack. “I can sense you in there, Lance. Mmm, a lot of lustiness on the breeze. Have you got company?” “He’s talking through the fucking mail slot,” Orion snapped, and my heart beat unsteadily for a moment before I remembered we had a silencing bubble in place. “My power reserves are low, and I can always bring a sweetener. A bottle of your finest bourbon, hm Lancey? Let me in, don’t be a prude.”
