by Sariah Skye
“What on earth are you all doing in here?” a new voice questioned as Mathias’ brooding and handsome face peeked in through the door. “Dare I look? Everyone decent?”
“Ha ha, Spartacus,” I groused.
“Nothing dirty here, just a friendly game of Call of Duty,” Bash grinned, feigning an innocent smile.
Mathias shook his head. “Dirtiest game of all,” he muttered. “Dinner in an hour. Make sure you’re clothed,” he said, scowling gently at Bash’s bare chest, and Xander’s naked legs.
Xander glanced down, realizing he was only in a pair of black boxer-briefs and a tank top. “Hey, I was hot!”
“I’ll bet you were,” Mathias mumbled, smiling at me briefly before disappearing from the room.
“He seems a bit crabby today,” I mused, as I got my head blown off on the screen. For such a good luck charm, I was sure doing more than my share of dying. I tossed the controller down on the sofa beside me, pouting.
“All the mess with the Stargazer is stressful. Perhaps you should like—” Bash elbowed me and winked playfully, hinting Mathias required extra attention.
I glared. “Hey. He has a hand and knows how to use it,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him and he chuckled.
“Don’t encourage her, sheesh,” Xander said dryly. Generally, the four of them seemed to be okay with our unconventional relationship, but it was becoming more obvious that Xander was beginning to have issue with it. Something we’d have to discuss later. Keeping equal attention on four different men, with distinct personalities and desires was definitely difficult. I didn’t mind the difficulty, but it was a little tiring.
I reached over and squeezed his knee. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite,” I said with a big grin.
“Yeah right,” Xander said, but he grinned out of the corner of his mouth as he and Bash continued playing their game.
“Hey now!” Bash began to protest, but he was interrupted by the loud screech of Rhys in the hallway.
“Dear god what is it?” I said, covering my ears, dashing to the door to peek outside.
Rhys—a/k/a Merlin—was twirling down the hallway like a ballerina, singing Tiny Tim’s “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”; high-pitched, sharp warbling voice and all.
He stopped mid spin to grin at me and pulled a set of black earbuds out of his ears. “Oh! Am I disturbing you?”
I gave him a dirty look. “Yes, and you’re also disturbed. Are you aware of how fucking loud you are?”
Rhys took a black object out of his sweatpants. “I’m sorry, I just love this song. It’s so… cheery!” Rolling my eyes, I grabbed for the thing in his hand and arched a brow. “Is this a Zune?”
“Yes! Isn’t it great?” He said perkily as I thrust the archaic object back at him. “I found it in a dumpster like, ten years ago. Can you believe someone tried throwing this away?” He put the earbuds back in his ears, adjusted the thick “man-bun” at the back of his head, and smoothed out his rumpled gray shirt. At least he was wearing a shirt, usually he tried to run around naked, but the guys simply weren’t having that. He continued to twirl down the hallway, singing loudly.
I covered my face with my palm. “What is wrong with him?”
“I’ve been asking that question for days now,” Xander countered.
I nodded in affirmation at him. “Seriously.”
As I began to turn back to the game, away from the hallway, the scrambling of claws and paws came tearing through the house.
“Frankie! Bring that back!” A Scottish accent pleaded, as Frankie the puppy darted by me, carrying a mass of fabric in her mouth. She was followed by Trystan, who ran after her frantically. “That’s my favorite t-shirt!” Lizzie and Percy weren’t far behind, tails wagging and ears perked, excited over their new “game” of “Torture the Scottish Eagle-man.” I glanced down the hallway at Sierra, my adult dog I had long before I met these guys. She slumped down on her backend with a large, annoyed sigh that reminded me of someone saying, “Damn kids.”
The sound of a snarl brought my attention back to the other end of the hallway. Nessie, Trystan’s “tame” gray wolf appeared in the doorway of the back bedroom, stopping Frankie before she could disappear into the room. She skidded on her feet trying to stop, crashing into the large wolf; Lizzie and Percy were close behind.
“What the hell are you doing to these dogs, Trystan?” I demanded jokingly, as Trystan was hunched over, trying to wrestle his shirt away from the large pup.
“They just don’t respect the pack rules!” Trystan said breathlessly, as Frankie took one big yank, and the sound of ripping fabric made Trystan yelp. “Dammit!” He hollered in dismay, before lapsing into Gaelic.
I stepped into the hallway, shaking my head. Hands on hips, I stared down the hallway, eyes landing on Frankie’s big brown ones. Maybe he could speak to animals, but I knew Great Pyrenees dogs. They sort of did what they wanted; we had that in common. “Frankie! Let go!” Frankie didn’t release, but she did stop tugging as she warily looked up at me.
“Now.” I commanded in a low voice. You couldn’t yell at Pyrs, they’d just dismiss you. You had to be firm, yet gentle. Complicated dogs, but I could relate. Frankie responded though by releasing the shirt. Trystan wasn’t expecting it, and he tumbled and fell on his backside.
“Och, I swear I never had this trouble with the bears!” Trystan grumbled, pouting on the hard floor as the other two large pups went tearing over his lap to follow Frankie into the back bedroom.
“They better not get into Rhys’ spell shit again,” I said, stressfully running a hand through my messy hair. I offered Trystan a hand and he clutched it. Not that he needed my help, but he was grateful for the gesture.
“Thank ye, luv,” Trystan crooned with a flirty smile on his face. He gracefully stood, now only mere inches from me. He was actually clothed in a pair of flannel pants and a black tank that showed off the feathered wings he had tattooed on his defined forearms and muscular chest. With his bright green eyes, auburn hair, a couple days’ growth of rust-colored whiskers on his strong jaw, and impishly sexy smile, he was gorgeous and hard to resist.
He reached out one of his long, thick arms and placed his palm beside my ear on the wall, just a step behind me. “Remember when I had ye pinned to a wall before?” He leaned over and whispered in my ear huskily.
My heart thumped in my chest. “Of course,” I said, as he brushed his lips across my cheek. I set my hands on his chest and gave a light shove. “And as much as I’d love you to pin me against the wall again with my dress over my head, this is not the time.”
Trystan’s head slumped against my shoulder and he sighed. “Of course ye’re right. Barn later?” He lifted his head and winked pointedly at me, hinting that I should meet him in our “private” place later.
I winked at him in reply. “Maybe,” I murmured playfully, rising up on my tip-toes to place a kiss on his scruffy jaw before I ducked under his arm. “I’m taking a damn shower! No one better interrupt me!” I hollered loudly, hoping everyone would hear me.
“Aw!” Bash protested from the game room.
“Tuuuuuuuulips!” Rhys sang from the living room.
“Good lord!” I said shaking my head. This house was madness! I stumbled groggily down the hallway, evilly leaving Trystan to adjust his pants and compose himself in the hallway, and the other two to yell at their game in the game room. I stretched and yawned as I walked, reaching my hands far over my head, trying to pull the kinks out of my shoulders. Five hours playing video games was uncomfortable, especially having to dodge grabby male hands in between matches. Not that I totally minded…
Another large pair of hands gripped my waist as my arms were over my head and swiftly spun me around. I let out a small squeal and looked up directly into the dreamy brown eyes of Mathias.
“Tired?” He asked, a glint of mischief in his gaze. He oozed sex and power from his very pores with his golden skin, stacks upon stacks of muscle, brooding features, deep br
own hair that was carefully styled into a modern cut, short and faded along the sides and longer on top; he normally wore it brushed backward. He was intimidating in looks and size, but really the former gladiator was a massive softie, and his playful gaze was about as flirty as he got. He didn’t need anything else; as with all the other guys, I was putty in his hands and all he had to do was smile and show up. I was turning weak… weak dammit!
I shrugged. “Mostly just tired of games.”
“I seriously thought they were going to keep you all day,” Mathias said, pressing his hands into my hips and swiftly lifting me off my feet to set me in a nearby chair at the center island counter. I wasn’t a tiny girl—short, but curvy. I was still amazed at how easily he could lift me even though it shouldn’t; Mathias had superhuman strength and speed. He towered over me by well more than a foot, and I was around five feet, four inches tall. Trystan was burly and large, but Mathias was positively inhuman with his size. And he only grew larger when he enraged, sort of like the Hulk except he didn’t turn green. And was amazing in the sack.
“I needed a distraction,” I just said, frowning. He leaned over, trying to bring his face to mine and wrap his arms around my upper body but I cringed.
“What?” Mathias asked, pulling away quickly with concern. “Magic again?”
“Huh? Oh, no—I haven’t had issue with that in a while, you know that,” I said, with a wink. If I did, all our relationships would still be at the “third base” stage because I hurt them pretty badly when my Avalon magic was out of control.
“Then what?” He eyed me with concern.
“Not sure.” Even though I sort of knew. So, the urge to blast all the guys to kingdom-come was gone, thanks to the little talisman Bash had made me but in its wake? I was extremely, entirely, stupidly aroused nearly always. The guys were gorgeous, sweet, kind, and generous… and sex between incubus and cambion was everything they’d heard: fucking amazing. It really wasn’t any surprise I was turned on all the time, but it was becoming a pain in the ass with this seductive, Avalon magic. I couldn’t even pass one of the guys in the hallway; one brush of hot skin, or a whiff of their masculine scents and I was putty. Sleeping didn’t even fix the problem; generally, I was with one of the guys every night. We’d make love until we were exhausted… and minutes later when they’d curl up to me, I’d be ready to go again. It was draining. I felt like a teenager in heat. Nothing made me stop thinking about my libido, except for the frequent cold shower. And, that rarely even worked.
Mathias started to inquire but I didn’t want to indulge him. Instead I changed the subject by wrinkling my nose. “I stink and feel icky. I need a shower. Who would have thought a marathon gaming session with those two would tire me out so much?”
Narrowing his eyes, he leaned in closer. I tried to push him away he just pushed my swat aside. His lips brushed over my cheek. “I don’t smell anything,” he said, the stubble on his chin tickling my skin. I giggled.
“You wouldn’t tell me even if I did stink.” I turned my gaze towards him, grinning widely. I lifted a finger and lightly grazed the side of his handsome face, easily getting lost in his dreamy eyes.
“Ava, first of all I lived in Rome, with hundreds of other men and people who did their business in the streets just because they could.” A brief glint of faraway sadness washed over him, but he quickly shrugged it off. “The smells of sweat and body odor and blood are permanent in my memory. You couldn’t possibly stink like that even if you haven’t bathed in a week.”
I cringed. “Okay, point taken.”
“Secondly, even if you did a little you’d still be hot,” he said, a flush of crimson on his cheeks.
“Aww,” was all I said, leaning in towards him, allowing him to pull me close into his chest. Normally he wore button up shirts and fancy business attire, but for now he was in khaki pants and a soft gray t-shirt that was stretched to the max over his broad chest and shoulders. Despite my ordeal the past couple of months—being attacked, cursed, betrayed—I felt safer with him than I ever did anywhere else. Not just because of his skills and size, but because he cared. After years of being invisible, both literally and figuratively, it was nice to be cared for, and have people to care for myself. I had Summer, but she was currently being cared for by her new fae girlfriend. And she never needed me to care for her unless she was drunk. Plus, unless she forced me into high heeled shoes, as much as I loved my bestie she didn’t make me weak in the knees like Mathias, Trystan, Bash and Xander did.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Mathias asked, sliding his hands down my shoulders, resting at my elbows. I shivered as his thumbs grazed over me.
“No,” I said, with a frown. “I’m really not ready to be dealing with this,” I sighed.
“Well, don’t worry about it,” he said, leaning over until his forehead touched mine. “We’ll all be there, and we’ll handle it. It doesn’t have to be scary—it might actually be fun!”
I cocked a brow. “Fun? Being at a noisy, crowded club?” The Stargazer, the club that I “inherited” from my mother when she “died” according to the state of Minnesota, had been closed for reorganization and repairs for a few weeks. While the renovations for the “hidden” Underground portion of the club—where Morgaine had made most of her money—were still in progress, we hoped opening up the general-public portion of the club would help bring in some needed revenue. Apparently, my mother had neglected several needed updates, like to the bathrooms and the ventilation systems. Link—the current operator of the club—figured she must have been in the pockets of several prominent city inspectors to overlook such changes. So, a lot of the profits I’d just inherited went to upgrading those neglected systems. We also wanted to give it a more updated, less-cheesy look.
I wasn’t sure who or what Mathias and Link hired to do the repairs, but whoever they were they were damn fast, and I wasn’t prepared for this endeavor.
“It’ll be okay, Ava,” Mathias insisted. He squeezed my arms and kissed me affectionately on the forehead. “You don’t have to do anything but just be there. It’s good for the community—clubber and supe alike—to see that you are ready to take things on and you aren’t going to let things slide like Morgaine.”
Smiling reluctantly as he pulled away, I slid down off the chair. “I will try,” I said. I hated crowds, as did Mathias, so hopefully between the two of us we could appear relatively collected. “I’m going to take a quick shower before dinner. I still feel icky.”
Mathias chuckled, and stepped back to let me pass. “Don’t take too long, I don’t think I can handle Rhys’ singing for much longer,” he said, pointing his finger down his throat and making a sour face as Rhys’ voice became much, much louder.
“Och, ye arsehole! Ye left the shitter seat up!” Trystan’s Scottish accent boomed as he came storming out of the bathroom like a man on a mission, looking for Rhys. I stifled a huge laugh full of Karma, because usually I was the one yelling about Trystan leaving the seat up. Now, the shoe was on the other foot and the revenge was glorious.
Trystan started yelling in Gaelic, and Rhys who’d been oblivious to everything before as he pranced around the living room, yanked his earbuds out, and tossed his device on the nearby chair. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, wide eyed, flicking a hand upward, and disappearing into a cloud of smoke.
Not wanting to witness the beating that would happen next when Trystan caught the wizard, I quickly darted up the stairs and away from the chaos downstairs.
Chapter Two
Sierra had followed me up to my bedroom; it was a relatively private area on the top floor, sort of built to look a little bit like a turret that was attached to the second floor of the house, with its own small hallway and door. Why it was located in the rear of the house instead of the front? I didn’t know, but I assumed one of the guys originally liked the view. It was probably Trystan, I was sure he secretly had a dream to be a Disney princess. But he still liked the bathroom on the bottom floor so that�
�s why he stayed down there. It was amusing; they gave me this room so I could have some privacy, but we ended up barging into each other’s rooms whenever we wanted. Once you’d seen someone naked and let them bend you over the bed and screamed their names at the top of your lungs in the throes of passion, it sort of eliminated any need for privacy. Not that I was saying that happened—but it totally did. The only time any door was locked was when I was with one of them, and he needed some alone-time. That was it.
From the window seat you could pretty much see the entire property. The guys had been kind enough to adorn it with anything I recovered from home that wasn’t damaged in a break in, as well as some new, plush bedding. Yet another thing they did for me that I really didn’t have anything to offer in recourse. But I pushed the thought out of my mind when Rocky barked, emerging from the office that was connected. Since I no longer needed the room for work, it’d become the dogs’ unofficial bedroom. Trystan and I had stuffed it full of pillows, toys, and anything else a bunch of Great Pyrenees dogs would like. Secretly, I think the two eldest dogs—Sierra and Rocky—liked it because the youngest ones weren’t confident going up the stairs yet. It gave them solace from the yips, barks, and nibbles from the pups.
“Heya, boy,” I greeted, carefully shutting my bedroom door behind me, making sure a dog didn’t sneak in when I wasn’t looking. I sighed, suddenly disturbed by all the silence; it gave me too much time alone with my own thoughts. Shrugging, I said to myself, “Oh well, you came here to shower anyway.” Absentmindedly I started for the bathroom, and immediately bumped into something I still wasn’t used to in this room: an end table crafted out of the bit of the Round Table that had sucked me in before and chucked me away into Arthur’s castle. The portal that led to Camelot, and my father. We weren’t sure how the magic worked to begin with, but Rhys was confident I couldn’t accidentally re-create it and get sucked in again. I kept it in here on the off chance my father was able to appear in it.