Crown of Moonlight (Court of Midnight and Deception #2) - K.M. Shea Page 0,93

help them?” Rigel asked. “Why?”

I tapped my finger on the steering wheel. “Just because I don’t like them, doesn’t mean I want to see them and their people suffer. And that’s how humans roll.” I slammed my foot on the gas, gunning my truck, and abruptly swerved.

The sudden burst of speed—combined with the slick ice layer—made Fell go hurtling out of the bed of my truck.

He squawked like a bird and flapped his arms before crashing into the massive hedge I’d been aiming for.

I waited long enough to make sure his feet were kicking in the air before I drove off at a normal pace.

“You don’t want to see him suffer, is it?” Rigel said.

“Suffering is not the same as facing the consequences for being despicable,” I said.

“Right.”

I grinned at Rigel, and almost got us into an accident when he smiled back.

It wasn’t a huge grin. It was barely a sliver of his white teeth flashing against his bronze skin. But the light in his eyes was…warm? Affectionate?

Those were the words I was looking for, but everything fell pathetically short of whatever it was that I saw in his eyes.

I stared at him even after his smile was long gone. Even after I clipped something with my truck and was driving dangerously.

“I believe you just knocked Fell’s mailbox over,” Rigel said.

I coughed and shook my head, trying to regain my inner zen—or just trying to stop ogling my consort. “Right. Something for him to discover tomorrow.” I cleared my throat. “Okay, Solis. Your turn!”

“Hurray!” Solis called from the backseat.

“Yep, yeah,” I babbled. “All kinds of hurray!”

Three days later, I stood in front of the door that connected my room to Rigel’s.

Should I knock? Should I even go in? I don’t really need comfort tonight. I’m just lonely.

I looked back over my shoulder. Kevin was splayed across a giant dog bed, lying on his back with his legs poking up in the air. Whiskers was sitting down on a rug, vigorously cleaning himself. When he caught sight of me watching, he stared at me with his rough tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Nah. I shouldn’t bother him for something like this. I mean, we’re friends, but that doesn’t give me the right to invade his room whenever I feel like it. That’d be something a lot more understandable if we were in love—

The door swung open, and Rigel, nonplussed, cocked his head at me. “Are you coming in or not?”

“W-what?” I stammered.

“You’ve been standing in front of the door for the past fifteen minutes. Decide: are you coming in or staying out?” Rigel swiveled slightly, opening up a space for me to squeak past if I wanted to.

I sucked my neck into my shoulders, but darted into his room.

Rigel still didn’t move. “I assume you two are joining us?”

Kevin rolled to his paws and wagged his tail as he followed me inside. Whiskers started to follow him, then turned around and set a paw on top of Kevin’s abandoned bed.

“What?” Rigel said.

Whiskers patted the bed with his massive paw.

I opened my mouth to say what Whiskers wanted, but Rigel beat me to it. “You’re asking me to bring the bed.”

Whiskers purred deep in his throat.

Rigel said something about “spoiled pets” under his breath, but he went into my room, got the bed, and casually tossed the giant thing down on the ground at the foot of his bed. He briefly furrowed his eyebrows when Whiskers sauntered into the bedroom—purring—and wound around Rigel’s legs.

“You’ve over domesticated these two.” Although Rigel’s words were a tad harsh, I noticed he knew just where to scratch Whiskers’ chin to elicit even louder purrs from the cat.

“Thanks for letting me come in,” I said.

Rigel shrugged. “You do better being with people when you’re upset. What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been thinking about something. You get a wrinkle right here whenever something is bothering you.” He almost brushed my skin when he pointed to the spot in between my eyebrows. “What is it?”

He’d long ago shed that dead-eyed look he used to use all the time. Typically, whenever he looked at me it was with humor shining in his dark eyes, but today I thought I could see a shred of concern, and something in my chest warmed.

Oh, don’t you dare, I warned myself. He’s an assassin. That’s, like, the bad boy stereotype to end all stereotypes.

Of course my traitorous feelings didn’t listen to me, and as Rigel waited expectantly for an answer, the warm sensation spread