Lola grabbed two plates and felt her stomach unwind. He had a point. Maybe Lola was a little harsh on Mallory. But GAH. The woman was constantly breathing down Thorin’s neck and when Thorin wasn’t around, she was breathing down Lola’s neck asking about him.
Thorin pulled out the glass dish of rice and honey garlic chicken. Once the fridge was shut, he tore off the dish’s lid and inhaled. “Now I’m starving.”
The two danced around each other in the kitchen, their movements almost down to a science. Lola filled the plates and popped one at a time into the microwave. Thorin filled two glasses with ice, then water from the fridge’s dispenser.
Less than ten minutes later, they were having lunch together on Lola’s balcony. Thorin hovered over his plate like he meant to inhale his food.
“What did you do before I came along? Was Oddie in the kitchen twenty-four-seven in order to feed you?”
Oddie was the Blackwells’ house manager. She was a few years younger than Lola but somehow seemed older, like she’d turned into an adult at the age of sixteen and never looked back. The Blackwells might have been immortal supernatural men, but Oddie was the boss in that house.
Fork in hand, Thorin paused eating only long enough to answer. “The staff at the house have to eat. Oddie just makes sure to cook extra.” He smiled over at her. “But don’t tell Oddie—I like your food better.”
For some reason, that made Lola beam.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
While sharing a meal with a man in her own house was a very uncommon thing, in the last few weeks, doing it with Thorin had become almost routine. She loved hanging out and just being with Thorin. She didn’t have to be anyone other than herself.
Thorin made it so easy.
And maybe that was why she was so territorial with him. Because having him as a friend, one that she felt completely at ease with, felt like snagging the winning lottery ticket.
She knew she was lucky to have him.
And she wasn’t too modest to admit that he was lucky to have her, too.
Ashley sometimes talked about the fates like they were actual people pulling strings in some cosmic control room. Lola had always been a believer in destiny. Until her dad turned into an asshole and imploded her entire life.
At the time, she couldn’t imagine what reason there was for her to lose not only her home, but her way of life too.
But right now, she could look back on all those threads and see where they led.
They led to now. To being on her balcony basking in the sunlight while the city buzzed and beeped below. To sharing honey garlic chicken with a kind and extremely adorable Greek god of a man.
Thorin was safe. And when Lola was with him, she felt so damn right.
Thorin finished off his plate and looked up at her and smiled.
Lola smiled right back.
Chapter 3
THORIN
After brunch, Thorin helped Lola clean up the kitchen. He emptied the dishwasher and she rinsed and refilled it. Afterward, he raided her pantry and tore into a bag of Veggie Straws while they watched an episode of Dark Nights in Grove Hallow. Lola loved the show, but Thorin thought it was the most ridiculous portrayal of supernatural beings he’d ever witnessed on TV. But he did have to admit the show had the most insane plotting. He watched for that and that alone.
When the bag of Veggie Straws was gone, his stomach grumbled for more, but he was not about to eat Lola out of her entire grocery stock.
“I should go,” he said when the credits rolled.
Lola clicked off the TV. “And I suppose I should get to the gallery to make sure everything is in order. You got anything in that supernatural arsenal that helps boost creativity and productivity?”
“Sure. The Muses, but you don’t want to go down that road.”
“Why not?”
“They are gods. And you never know what you’re going to get when you invoke a god.”
She followed him to the door. “My head is still having a hard time wrapping itself around the fact that gods are real and walking among us.”
“Well, most of them are walking among us. There are some who reside in another realm.”
Lola’s mouth dropped open. “There’s another realm? What does that even mean? Is there like a magical portal hidden behind a bookcase somewhere? Or maybe it’s in a wardrobe!”
Thorin laughed. “Nothing so clandestine.”
She waved him off. “Never mind. That’s a conversation for another time. We’ll chat about portals and realms over coffee some day.”
“It’s a date,” he said.
Lola said goodbye to him at the door. The hallway outside her loft was empty and quiet and despite what he’d said earlier, he was glad not to have to run into Mallory. She was incredibly sweet, but perhaps a bit overzealous.
Knowing he’d likely end up at Lola’s, Thorin had parked his car just a few blocks from her place. He walked back to it and drove home, his stomach growling at him the whole way. He might have overdone it on the run this morning. He’d just been feeling so damn good lately. And running only made him feel better.
At the back of Blackwell House, he went in through the staff’s entrance and headed straight for the fridge. The Blackwells’ house manager, Oddie, did all of the cooking and shopping. Knowing his appetite, she always kept sandwich meat and fixings well stocked. He could easily go through a pound of deli meat in a day if there was no one there to stop him.
Arms burdened with ingredients, he kicked the fridge closed with his sneaker.
And standing on the other side of the door, appearing like fucking phantoms in the daylight, were his three older brothers.
“Christ,” he said and nearly lost the mayo. “A warning would have been nice.”
Mad stood at the end of the long kitchen island, his arms crossed over his chest. Black tattoos poked out from beneath the sleeves of his white t-shirt. Behind him, Poe leaned casually against the wall looking for all intents and purposes like a thief with a plan.
Dae pulled out one of the metal stools at the island and sat on the seat’s edge, one leather boot propped on the footrest. He was not in his usual black business suit and instead wore a gray Henley t-shirt and black jeans.
“If Oddie saw you kicking the fridge like that,” Mad said, “she’d kill you.”
He wasn’t kidding.
“Well don’t tell on me and she won’t.”
Though Thorin was centuries old, he had long ago accepted the fact that with his brothers, he would always feel like the little brother. It didn’t help that his brothers had cleaned up more than one of his messes when he…lost control of his anger.
Thankfully, the last three hundred seventy-five years, with his brothers’ help, and his routine on point, he’d managed to mostly stay out of trouble. And he planned on keeping it that way.
Mad scratched at his face and the stubble rasped. “Poe heard something.”
Thorin dropped the sandwich ingredients on the island. “Oh yeah?” He grabbed a plate from the cupboard and a butter knife. Maybe he should make two sandwiches. Bread would help fill him up for a while and—
“It’s about Rose,” Mad said.
Thorin went still.
Ice burned through his veins.
His heart slammed into overdrive in his chest. Not from excitement. From apprehension.
Fuck.
Trying to act like the name didn’t knot up his insides, Thorin said, “What about Rose?” and then slapped a clump of mayo on the bread with enough force to put a hole through it.
“She’s back in town,” Poe said. “With two of her brothers in tow.”
He suddenly wasn’t hungry. In fact, he now wanted to vomit.
And the day had started out so well.
Rose Northman was a bad omen.
She was part of the Northman djinn family. Only girl. Youngest. Wherever she went, she usually came with a few brothers as bodyguards. Brothers who were always looking for
trouble or war. Unlike the rest of the immortal world, the Northman djinn hadn’t matured out of their barbarian natures quite yet.
A long, long, long time ago, Rose and Thorin had been a thing.
People dropped the i in his name and called them Rose and Thorn. Because you didn’t get one without the other.
And then it all went to shit.
Those were memories he did not want to revisit.
The darkest of his skeletons.
The whole reason he’d vowed never to get too close to anyone and certainly not anyone breakable.
He clutched the butter knife in hand until his fingernails nearly pierced his skin.
“How long is she staying?” he asked casually.
Dae said, “Someone spotted them in Juniper Hills. Sounds like they rented a house there.”
The Blackwells and the Northman djinn had never been allies. Not even when Thorin started seeing Rose in the 1600s. In fact, he vividly remembered his grandfather, Red, telling him that if he insisted on continuing his relationship with Rose, then Red would insist on disowning him.
Thorin hedged his bets on that one. Because Thorin had never been Red’s favorite anyway. It had already felt like Red disowned him. Could it really get any worse?
“If Rose comes around—” Mad started.
“I know.” Thorin was visibly shaking. He needed to go for another run.
He’d get on the trail and just keep going. Get far, far away.
“We don’t want to have to clean up another mess,” Mad added.
Dae shifted on the stool and the metal creaked. “It’d be harder to hide this time around.”
Shame beat in Thorin’s chest. “I have control,” was what he said. But doubt wended into his gut like a snake. Did he have control? Or had he just gotten really good at avoiding triggers?
And Rose was one of the biggest triggers of all.
Poe pushed away from the wall. “Now that we have that cleared up, shall we discuss what we’re going to do about the Northman bastards?”
“We need to find out why they’re here,” Mad said.
“Northman are like mosquitos. They have no reason for existing other than vexing us,” Poe said.
“Which brothers came with Rose?” Dae asked. “Aron and Aleksander? If so, I owe Alek a knee to the groin.”
“If it was the twins,” Mad said, “I think we would have known by now.”
Thorin tried to take part in the conversation, but his ears were ringing and his body was flush with heat.
Like Poe said, Thorin could take a wild guess as to why the Northman brothers might be in Blackwater. The Northman and Blackwell rivalry went back centuries and their reasons for keeping up with the rivalry were always shifting. Their last battle had been in the 20s and they’d fought over territorial rights of the land north of Blackwater. The Blackwells won.
But ongoing rivalries or territorial disputes didn’t explain why Rose was here.
He’d seen her last in the 20s. She’d arrived in town shortly after her brothers and immediately sought out Thorin when he was alone.
“I’ve missed you,” she’d said quietly, huskily.
She hadn’t done any of the things women usually did when they were trying to get Thorin’s attention. Rose had never been the conspicuous type. The games she played had nothing to do with skimpy clothes or batting eyelashes. She was too clever for that.
Rose’s skill had always been mental warfare.
So what game was she playing now?
And then Thorin knew.
Lola.
In the last three hundred seventy-five years, he’d barely touched another woman.
He was too afraid of what he’d do if he did.
The last woman he’d been with was Rose.
And Thorin suspected that was exactly how Rose wanted it.
Fucking hell.
If he’d been spotted hanging out with Lola these last few weeks and word had gotten back to Rose…
No. That couldn’t possibly be the reason.
There was no fucking way Rose was here because she was jealous.
But a voice in the back of his head said that it was very, very possible.
He’d just have to prove to her, once again, how serious he was about remaining unattached.
One thing he and Lola agreed on was that love complicated things.
And the last thing Thorin needed was more complications.
Chapter 4
LOLA
Lola and Ashley stood in the middle of La Nuit Art Gallery examining the framed print of one of Lola’s latest photographs.
“It’s so good,” Ashley said, ever the dutiful OG best friend.
Lola frowned. “But is it really?”
She wasn’t looking for Ashley to stroke her ego. She just wanted the truth. Lola respected honesty even if it was brutal. It might sting initially, but it’d save everyone a whole lot of trouble down the line. Lola’s childhood was proof of that.
“Well…” Ashley cocked her head to the side. Her high ponytail swung behind her. “I’m not your target audience.”
“Not what I asked.”
“What’s the key suppose to symbolize?”
The finished art piece was a composite made of four photographs. The background was the Rine River. The sky was an image Lola had taken the summer before as a storm blew in. The subject was a self-portrait Lola had taken on a white studio backdrop. And in Photoshop, she’d replaced her head with a key.
The overall tone was dark and vintage-y, but a glance at the images that were trending on Instagram told Lola that dark and vintage-y was no longer in. It was now all about the fantasy, the spectacle, the glowing light.
The longer she was in this self-employed artist game, the more she realized trends could make or break an artist. It wasn’t about what she wanted to create. It was about what people wanted to buy.
And they wanted glowing light.
How was it Lola, at twenty-six years old, was already out of touch with what was cool?
And what the hell was she going to do if this latest exhibit didn’t sell a single piece?
She would be so fucking screwed.
She couldn’t imagine having to put on dress clothes to get a legit day job.
Lola St. James did not look good in cardigans or kitten heels.
Please GOD no.
Lola would rather shuck oysters for a living.
As an artist and her own boss, she could take an afternoon nap or a three-hour lunch break if she wanted to.
Her time was her time and she couldn’t imagine giving it to anyone else.
“I think the image is very much you,” Ashley said, still not exactly answering the question.
Lola huffed. She needed more light!
Ash turned to her. “You freak out about every show. You know that. You’re too hard on yourself. Your work is amazing and you are amazing. People will love this.”
Lola wound her arm around Ash’s shoulders and tugged her into her side. “You beautiful, precious angel,” she said. “Thank you for being so kind. But also you’re way too kind.”
Ashley laughed and leaned her head against Lola’s shoulders. “The world needs more kindness, right?”
“Right. Never change.”
Though if Lola were being honest, Ashley had done a complete 180 the last few weeks. But all of it good.
The biggest change, the thing that stuck out to Lola the most was simple and subtle and biological—Ashley now smelled like her boyfriend Dae. Like cinnamon and cardamom and cloves. Ashley said it was his magic.
They might have only been together a month, but already Lola couldn’t imagine her best friend with anyone else. It was like they had always been a thing. Of course, from what Ash told her, they were soul mates. Some kind of fated coupling decreed by the universe or something.
Lola didn’t entirely understand it. But what she did understand was the insane chemistry and love between Ash and Dae.
And spea
king of which…
The door into the gallery dinged as Dae entered. Ash’s face immediately lit up.
Lola had to admit, a little twinge of jealousy ran through her.
But then she reminded herself why she didn’t do serious relationships (drama, heartbreak, never-ending parade of douchebags) and the jealousy faded.
“Hello, love,” Dae said and planted a gentle kiss on Ashley’s cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
Ashley giggled (that’s how you know someone is legit in love) and said, “I just left you a few hours ago.”
“And yet here we are.” Dae put his hand at the small of Ashley’s back and smiled that blazingly white smile at her.
This, the way Dae treated Ashley, was Lola’s favorite thing about him. How he was equally territorial and gentle with Ash. Like he didn’t want to suffocate her, but yet he wanted to let everyone around him know she was his.
Lola was still trying to process all of the things she’d learned in the last month and all of the things that had changed. Because not only had Ashley started dating one of the city’s wealthiest, sexiest, hot bachelors, they had also learned that Dae and the rest of the Blackwells were centuries old djinn—genies. Like grant-you-three-wishes genies.
But don’t call them that. Lola learned that rule the hard way when she accidentally referred to Poe Blackwell as such and he nearly blew a gasket.
“Darling,” he’d said, his teeth just ever-so-slightly gritted, “I’m not blue and I don’t pop out of a lamp.” Then he made a drink appear in hand with his djinn magic and added, “Your generation is so determined to be politically correct, yet you fail to properly educate yourself on all accounts.”
Lola heard that one loud and clear. Genie was apparently a derogatory term in the supernatural world. Tread carefully!
Ashley giggled again when Dae nuzzled into her neck and whispered something in her ear. Lola snapped her fingers and said, “Excessive PDA is for teenagers and porn stars.”
Dae laughed. Ashley’s cheeks turned pink.
One Mark: Steamy Friends to Lovers Paranormal Romance (Blackwell Djinn) Page 2