Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)(39)

An hour and ten minutes passed, and I took a turn at stretching my legs. I was getting hungry. I thought we’d be through with our talk by this time. We could interrupt Flynn, but I didn’t want him to freak out in front of somebody. We needed his guest to leave so we could talk alone.

At the hour and a half mark, Kope checked his watch and looked at me. I sent my hearing into the room. Oh, they weren’t in the bedroom anymore. Finally! I wiggled my hearing around until it hit the sound of running water. A shower. This was a good sign. But wait . . . nope. I shook my head, eyes wide. Was this normal?

Kope did something uncharacteristic then. He grinned, giving a little huff through his nose. This elicited a small giggle from me and I pressed both hands over my mouth. It was too late, though. At this point, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I could feel the crazy, unfortunate amusement rising. I jumped up and ran as spritely as I could to the stairwell with Kope on my heels. We sprinted down several flights before I fell back against the wall, laughter bubbling out. It went on and on, only getting worse when Kope joined in with his deep chuckling, a joyful rumble.

We laughed away the anxiety and discomfort of the day, and though we’d never be able to ease back into the innocence of friendship the way it used to be, I knew we’d be okay.

We stayed in the stairwell until I heard Flynn’s guest leave his place and get on the elevator. I marched back up the steps and went straight to his apartment. I stood there with my hands on my hips and Kope at my back. When Flynn opened the door and raked his eyes up and down my body, a case of nerves came back full force and my bright idea to smile at him disappeared. My hands dropped at my side.

Flynn leaned against the doorjamb with one forearm propped up on it. His red hair was darkened by water, and he was wearing a towel around his waist. Just a towel. He was short, with a prizefighter’s physique. He eyed our badges.

“Been waiting long?” he asked. The question was casual enough, but a warning lived in his eyes. He was wary of us.

I smiled tightly, which brought a giant grin to his rugged, handsome, freckled face.

“Your father is away and he won’t be back until tomorrow,” I told him. “Can we come in?”

He shrugged, turning his back on us with the confidence of a man who was either not afraid to die or not scared to defend himself in an attack. We followed him inside and closed the door. Flynn walked into the bedroom, but Kope and I stayed in the living area, on alert.

His apartment faced a stunning water view, magnified by floor-to-ceiling windows. Walking toward the glass gave me a weird sense of vertigo as I realized just how high we were. I placed my hand on the top of a sleek, black couch. His furniture was sparse and modern. The only decor was on the far wall—shelves filled with hundreds of trophies and ribbons.

“You will not be needing that,” Kope said. I turned and saw Flynn placing a handgun on the bar top that overlooked the kitchen. My heart gave a hard pound. At least he wasn’t in a towel anymore. He’d changed into red, silky shorts.

“Well, I certainly hope not, mate, but you can never be too careful.” Flynn leaned against the bar, eyeing us, with the steel of the weapon gleaming next to him.

Okay, he was just making a point. Now it was time for me to reassure him. “This is Kopano, a son of Alocer. And I’m Anna, Belial’s daughter.”

He pointed at me. “You nearly got yourself killed last year. I remember your sweet little arse.”

Before I could open my mouth, Kope stepped toward him, tension punctuating the air. I moved forward, giving Kope’s forearm a quick squeeze.

“We have come to your homeland to bring good news, Flynn Frazer, and we come in friendship. But you will show Anna respect.”

I clenched my teeth as another wide grin stretched over Flynn’s face. He looked back and forth between us, not sure what to make of all this.

“Sure, yeah. No Neph’s ever demanded respect from me before, but I may be able to pull it off this once, depending what you’ve got to say.”

“Let’s all sit down,” I said, jumping in. “It might take a while to explain everything.”

Flynn took the pistol and tucked it into the back of his shorts. He strode over and sat in a red chair, lounging with his legs wide apart and his arms behind his head. Flynn kept a look of suspicious speculation on his face the whole time I spoke. I had to remind myself about the research my father had done on Flynn, and trust that he was soft somewhere under that really hard, sarcastic demeanor. Each time we revealed ourselves to a Neph there was the possibility that we could be betrayed. It was a chance we had to take. I hadn’t been as afraid with Zania. Maybe because her father treated her horribly. Flynn was more of a wild card. He could harbor guilt and anger about the life he’d been goaded into taking, while still having feelings of loyalty to his father.

I didn’t like this.

“Flynn,” I began, “what I’m going to tell you can never leave this room. We could all be killed for even discussing it.”

His eyebrows went up. “That right?”

“Yes.” I swallowed. “I need to know I can trust you.”

“I need to know I can trust you, as well,” he said. “For all I know this could be some test of my loyalty to the Dukes. So, what do you suggest?”

I thought about it. “Show me your colors,” I said.