at the red wood where Vudu’s naked chest just was.
Did he seriously just lock me out like I would barge in and steal his virtue?
Ah, who am I kidding? I just might. The crap he was doing with my feathers was heady stuff. I step back from the door, but I give it a glare for good measure. I swear I hear another deep rumbling laugh like Vudu can see what I’m doing, and I search for a peephole or a camera as I step away.
I find Ire in the same place I left him, and I lean against the wall across from where he’s standing and stop myself from lifting a hand and flapping it to fan myself. I’m not sure if coming back from one mate all hot and bothered just to fall into step with another mate is bad etiquette or not.
Ire just watches me for a moment, and I’m not sure if he heard what Vudu said or what he thinks about it if he did. I look up at him, my winged back leaning against the dark wall. His once polished and pristine suit is ruined, slices and singes marring the fabric, dried blood in various places from his shoes to his neck. And yet, he still looks gorgeous. My hussy beacon-call chose very, very well.
“You okay, Snarls?” he asks quietly as we stare at each other in the shadowed hall.
I sigh and run my hand down my face. “Yeah,” I confess. “It’s still all sinking in, you know?” I tell him, looking around at him and the closed doors that my other two mates are behind. I can tell by the slow nod of his head that he knows I don’t mean just Morax or the battle, but everything.
“Yeah, I know.”
After another beat, I clear my throat. “Which bathroom is yours?” I ask.
He pauses for a moment, his blue eyes looking between mine, searching for something. I let my expression bloom for him to see, and Ire doesn’t disappoint. Maybe he meant what he said earlier about being so deep inside of my mind that he knows what I’m thinking.
Ire takes my hand and begins to lead the way down the hall, and he stops us in front of a door before pushing it open and letting me go in first. When I step inside, I look around and immediately note that this space looks lived in.
Instead of red, weaponized, and gory, all the decor in here is black, gray, and chrome. There’s a massive bed in the center of the room, and it’s set in front of a wall of glass that showcases the dark Hell sky beyond. At the opposite end of the room, there’s a fireplace, a couple of doors, a desk with some books flung on it, a sword leaning haphazardly against the wall, and a couple piles of clothes dotting the floor.
Ire quickly goes to pick up, chucking the clothes into one of the open doors and shutting it. “Apologies about the mess,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t let the imps clean in here.”
I want to laugh at his adorable embarrassment, but I hold it back, not wanting him to get defensive or think I’m mocking him. “I like it,” I tell him, and then I make my way to the other door that I’m guessing is the bathroom, and he follows me inside like a shadow.
I feel his close proximity against my wings as I go inside, and I gape at the gorgeous massive bathroom. There’s a big square chrome tub that’s the size of a big jacuzzi, and it’s already full of water, the hint of something minty and spicy in the bubbles as steam permeates the air.
“Towels are there,” he announces pointing to the obvious pile of fluffy folded towels on the counter. “There’s shampoo and things already by the bath for you, and...” He looks around, his brow dipped in consternation. “It looks like they didn’t put any clothes for you in here. I’ll just grab something from my drawers for you if that’s okay?” he asks.
“That’s perfect,” I reassure him, feeling his nerves from here.
Ire disappears faster than a brownie during PMS, and I stare at the empty doorway for a beat until finally looking at myself in the mirror. I’m a little taken aback at the reflection I see staring back at me. It’s me, but more. I twist so I can get a peek at my wings