Thirst (Hellish #4)(10)
Baptiste flashed Faolan a sad smile. “I probably won’t get many invites after today.”
“Well, now, that’s not true. I’ve been sent to fetch you back.”
With a snort of laughter, Baptiste fell backward across the bed and stared at the ceiling. Would this day never end? “Am I being forced to apologize?” A horrible thought hit Baptiste. “Is Lire here too?”
A loud sigh rent the air. “My mate can be trying and pushy. He’s not perfect, but he won’t force you to hand him a shite apology you don’t mean. Plus, knowing Lire as I do, I’m sure he wasn’t innocent in your argument earlier. And, no, Lire isn’t here. He’s busy with our king. Jonathan has some reason all his own for sending me to fetch you.”
Baptiste sat up. For now, Jonathan hadn’t pushed his politics on the New Orleans sect since his arrival. The least Baptiste could do was continue working with him. “Can you give me a few minutes? I have some shit to work out here first.”
Faolan nodded. “I’ll wait in the kitchen.”
Baptiste nodded and followed him from the room. When Faolan hit the stairs, Baptiste headed down the hall. Ethan’s bedroom door was closed. Baptiste hesitated before finally deciding knocking would be best.
The door flew open, and a pissed-off-looking Ethan glared out at him. “What?”
Baptiste’s chest hurt. He was failing everyone, including himself. “I’m being summoned back to our king.”
Ethan’s expression transformed from anger to concern in an instant. “Would you like me to guard your back?”
“Please?” Even though Baptiste trusted Jonathan, he didn’t like feeling exposed as he had earlier in the day. He needed someone in his corner. Ethan never would’ve let Lire get to him. He would keep Baptiste safe.
Ethan nodded, becoming the amazing friend he’d always been. “Of course.”
Baptiste swallowed hard. He wouldn’t pretend nothing happened. Ethan’s feelings mattered to him. “I’m sorry.”
A line appeared between Ethan’s eyes. His hardened expression made him twice as hot. Reaching out, he snagged the front of Baptiste’s t-shirt and hauled him forward. His lips touched Baptiste’s in a soft kiss. Baptiste breathed in the other man’s scent. Their foreheads touched. Baptiste kept his eyes shut. He loved Ethan. It wasn’t a passionate love. There was no jealousy or insanity as he’d sometimes felt with his mates. It was a peaceful and steady love filled with friendship. He trusted Ethan. Ethan would never hurt him. That was why it broke Baptiste that he was hurting Ethan.
“I know,” Ethan whispered, taking away the guilt the way he always did. “Let’s go find out why this king has suddenly taken such an interest in you.”
Baptiste’s heart sank. There was no time like the present to get this over with, but afterward, maybe he would go away. He’d been in New Orleans too long. There was nothing keeping him. Evan and Dante could run the shop. Once the thought set in, Baptiste felt lighter. He would leave. Eirik and Kallus were gone. It was well past time for him to move on to a new life too.
After squaring his shoulders, and with Dougal guarding his back, Jonathan strolled inside the room they’d readied for Kallus. Jonathan wasn’t prepared for the sight of the demon. When he’d met Lire, Lire had been ever-changing, keeping Jonathan on his toes. Kallus was solid and beautiful. Demons had to be breathtaking. That was how they stole souls and corrupted minds. Still, Jonathan hadn’t been prepared. With jet black hair that begged to be touched and shimmering blue eyes, Kallus was heart-stoppingly perfect. Topping off those features, the demon’s lips were amazing. They drew the eye. Having Kallus and Dougal in the same room was almost too much.
Kallus eyed them, his expression unreadable. “Damn. You are amazing,” Kallus said, breaking the silence.
Jonathan glanced Dougal’s way. “He is, isn’t he? Unfortunately, for you, he’s already mated.”
A snort escaped Kallus. “I meant you,” Kallus said, surprising Jonathan. “Blondie is hot, but you are… mhmm.” Kallus inhaled. “I recognize the scent of overwhelming power but can’t recall where I’ve encountered it.”
“Och, he’s a smooth one, my king,” Dougal said with a chuckle at Jonathan’s back.
Jonathan claimed the empty chair outside Kallus’ reach. “Demons usually are.”
“King?” Kallus asked, sounding only mildly curious. “Ah,” he said, before Jonathan could respond. “The new king of the Americas. I’ve heard the rumors.” His heated gaze swept down Jonathan’s body. “This is the first time I’ve met a Nephilim. Not that it matters. King. Nephilim. Grandson of Goddess Celeste. It matters not at all. You have no power over me. My father is a prince of hell. I answer only to the underworld.”
The smile tugging at the corners of Jonathan’s mouth was out of his control. Kallus wasn’t unlikable. That was a good thing. He held up the book he’d brought with him. “Actually, this book says different. I’m new at this, so my brother-in-law Lachlan, who’s the king of Scotland, dug up this book for me.” He toyed with the ragged corners of the book that was bound in things Jonathan tried not to think about. It was old. “Who knew there was a book of rules and responsibilities for vampire kings? I certainly didn’t.” Jonathan flashed Kallus a smile. “Thank goodness I’m a nerd who loves to read, because riveting it is not. However, there are a few very interesting tidbits. Like, did you know demon and vampire matings aren’t unheard of, as I expected. In fact, as uncommon as it might be, it’s obviously happened enough to warrant a section in this book. It seems when you mated with Eirik and Baptiste, you became my problem.”