Rocked by Love (Gargoyles, #4)(47)
“Our conversation. Don’t be a greedy bitch. And what, you thought you and Dag were just good buddies?”
“Um, I thought we were about half an insult away from sworn nemeses. And I kept thinking that, right up until my pants fell off.”
Wynn snorted. “All by themselves, right? Come on, Koyote. You heard about me and Knox, Fil and Spar, and Ella and Kees, and you thought every one of the new female Wardens turning out to be the mate of the Guardian she woke was just a big ol’ coincidence? I thought all you geek types had to know about things like statistics and the laws of probability.”
Stunned—literally; she felt as though she’d just taken a softball to the side of her head—Kylie thought back to her initial conversations with Wynn about the Guardian situation. She remembered their talk. She remembered the mention of those couples. She even remembered being informed of her new Wardenship, but she did not remember the M-word ever entering the picture.
And, oh yes, she would have remembered.
She pointed an accusing finger at her friend. “You never said anything about mates. You said the two of us would have to work together because he’s a Guardian and I’m a Warden and those twains just meet like that. There was no mention of mating. Mating was never in the handbook.”
Wynn pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling. “You know, there really should be a handbook, shouldn’t there?”
Suddenly two hulking figures stood behind them, one of them crowding close to Kylie and growling low in his throat. “What have you done to upset her?” Dag demanded, glaring at Wynn.
The witch glared right back. “Actually, I’m not the one who upset her, big guy. I think that honor goes to a little story you never bothered to tell her. I swear, what the hell is it with you guys and withholding vital information? You’d think having Ella and Fil both contemplating ripping your balls off would have taught you all a lesson on sharing means caring.”
Knox gave his fiancée a hard look. “You believe I withheld vital information from you, little witch?”
Kylie had always dismissed Dag’s claims that he ranked as one of the smallest of his kind, but after seeing Knox in person, she felt forced to reevaluate. The gargantuan man—even in human form, which she had to admit was a lot nicer to look at than the gargoyle side she’d seen in her guest-room window—looked to be in imminent danger of overflowing her kitchen. Her enormous, remodeled, showroom-ready kitchen her Realtor had described as the focal point of the house. In comparison, Dag’s size seemed almost, you know, normal.
Wynn appeared neither intimidated nor particularly impressed. “No, you did not, but you didn’t get a chance, did you? I knew it all right from the start, so hiding the facts never would have gotten you anywhere with me.”
“I hide nothing,” Dag cut in, his tone angry and expression stony. “But whatever I choose to do is no business of yours, witch. I can handle my life however I see fit.”
“Um, excuse me?” Kylie found herself raising her hand in her own kitchen and tried not to think too hard about the implications of that. “Anyone care to fill me in on what the hell is going on?”
Wynn opened her mouth, Knox shook his head, Dag bared a fang, and the witch backed off, mumbling, “Apparently not,” half under her breath.
“Dag is correct,” Knox said, laying a hand on his fiancée’s shoulder. “He has the right to conduct himself however he feels is most appropriate. And we all have more important matters to deal with. Perhaps we should simply agree to ‘table’ this discussion, I believe one would say, and focus on the reason why we have all come together here.”
Kylie took note of the similarities in Dag’s and Wynn’s disgruntled expressions. Then she spied Knox’s determination and realized no one was likely to explain what the heck had just happened anytime soon, so she bit back a growl and jumped off her stool.
“Fine,” she said, setting her soda aside with a click. “In that case, I’ll show you guys your room, and then I’m hopping in the shower. We can all use the time to decide what we want for dinner, and we’ll start work when it gets here. Follow me.”
She stalked toward the stairs, not really caring if they obeyed or not. The house wasn’t that big. Eventually, they’d find the only spare room with a bed in it and put two and two together. With the mood she was in, Kylie would even let them find the bedding she’d piled on the nightstand and make their own damned bed.
She just hoped they didn’t stumble across her torn panties in the process.
Crap, she swore as she picked up the pace and raced ahead to retrieve her discarded undergarments. Next time, they get a hotel.
Or, you know, I keep my legs together. Whatever works.
*
Kylie quickly discovered that her state-of-the-art shower-head lacked a setting for self-flagellation, so she turned it to massage and tried to content herself with a mild pummeling. Even the addition of the body jets and the cross-spray couldn’t give her the beating she so richly deserved, but at least the water was hot. Didn’t Christians think sin could be burned away? Wasn’t that the whole rationale behind burning witches?
At the moment, Kylie entertained a fond thought involving one particular witch and a book of matches, but that was probably because she just wasn’t a very nice person. Oh, she used to be, but that was before she got mugged by demon worshippers and entered the Fabulous Land of Make meBelievei’mcrazy. Now, she was finding out she had homicidal tendencies and the morals of a big ol’ slut. Lo, how the mighty were fallen.