Sin & Salvation (Demigod of San Francisco #3)(64)

“A little too hardcore,” Bria muttered, her back to the room as she worked.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen a person change personalities so many times in the space of twenty minutes.” Boman peeled off his dirty shirt and tossed it into the corner. That was a habit that’d be short-lived, just as soon as I could work up the energy to yell at him. “That was a handy skill.”

“You have to know how to talk to people to get what you want.” Daisy shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but her cheeks were noticeably red.

“That is just one of her many handy skills,” Zorn said quietly, drifting to the corner of the room.

“Zorn is tired of everyone praising Mordecai, and not his pupil.” Bria laughed as Jack joined her.

“What the…” Jack stepped back, outrage on his face. He gestured at the stove. “What the hell is this?”

Bria pushed a charcoal-encrusted bun off the grill. She flung another after it. “Dinner,” she said without looking up.

“Dinner?” Jack motioned Donovan in for a look.

“No.” Donovan looked over her shoulder, his good mood vanishing. “That’s dog food.”

“Mordecai, dinner’s ready.” Daisy gestured him on. Apparently, she felt she’d given him enough touchy-feely support.

“You wanted me to cook dinner, and so I cooked dinner. You didn’t seem to care that I don’t know how to cook, so…” Bria raised her eyebrows at them. “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.”

Jack and Donovan’s mouths dropped open. A small smile crept up Zorn’s face.

“What happened?” Boman asked, his smile failing.

“How hard is it to cook hotdogs?” Jack asked with a raised voice. “They’re already cooked. You’re basically just heating them up. How hard is it to heat up food?”

The door closed softly and I zeroed in on the soft pulse in my middle letting me know Kieran was near. I looked up and my breath caught. All noise in the room dialed down to nothing.

He filled the entrance of the kitchen in a wet shirt that clung to his perfectly sculpted, powerful body. Ripped jeans hugged his muscular thighs, ending in sandy flip-flops. His raven hair fell across his forehead and his stormy blue gaze rooted to me with an intensity that gave me goosebumps.

“Alexis, may I speak with you?” he said, his voice thick and raspy, and fear crawled through me at his formality.





27





Alexis





“What, and miss the dinner I toiled to make?” Bria flipped another bun off the grill.

“You’re not missing anything, sir,” Jack grumbled, watching Bria’s handiwork with wide, horrified eyes. He seemed powerless to stop the train wreck.

“Sure, yeah.” I pushed up from the table as he glided through the kitchen, smelling of salt. His mouth-watering male magnetism tightened my core. His power and strength and intensity filled the space, sending out silent waves of explosive energy. The guys all turned, giving him their undivided attention. Daisy’s face lost color again, and Mordecai looked down at his feet. Even Bria had turned, all serious, ready for a command to action.

The Demigod was in the room, more powerful than any pack leader could be, and he was owning his mantle. It didn’t matter that everyone in the room was powerful in their own way and, besides Daisy, magical—he dominated their awareness and owned their focus.

I took his hand and melted at his touch, my legs going wobbly.

Without another word, he led me back the way he’d come and then up the stairs to my new bedroom. Once we were both inside, he shut the door behind us and motioned for me to take a seat on the couch by the window. The sound of crashing waves grew louder when he lifted the window. A wave of his hand, and his magic brought a gentle ocean breeze in, mussing my hair.

With serious eyes, he sat down next to me and silence fell over us. I couldn’t read the surge of emotion coming through the soul connection. His stony face gave absolutely nothing away.

“I don’t know how to begin,” he said after a moment, his voice deep and thick.

“From the beginning?” I tried.

He looked at me for a long moment, and I thought I recognized uncertainty in his gaze.

“My father marked my mother,” he started, and my heart skipped a beat.

He knew about the mark, and he clearly wasn’t doing cartwheels about it.

“He has said, many times, that it was the worst decision he ever made.”

Maybe the beginning wasn’t the best place to start after all. I couldn’t comment on that, though. My heart was now firmly lodged in my throat, choking me.

“That when the woman wearing his mark walked away from him,” Kieran continued, “it invited ridicule. He never said it, but it was clear that he thought the situation with my mother made him look weak.”

“I don’t plan on walking away from you,” I whispered.

His eyes softened for a brief moment. Much too brief.

“What my mother did crushed his ego, and cracked his brain a little, I think, though it can be argued that he was always a little imbalanced.”

It certainly could be argued, yes, and those with nerves of steel usually did.

“I was never taught how to mark a person,” Kieran went on. “Or even what sort of magic goes into it. It is usually something a Demigod parent teaches their child. Kind of like a safe sex talk for those who can accrue diseases.”