eyes, half expecting to see Lucifer himself leering down at me. What I see is a thousand times better. Or worse, depending on perspective.
Claudia looms over me, wearing only an old Octavia’s Ruin tour t-shirt, her homecoming crown, and an expression of extreme agitation. She leans down and slaps me across the cheek. No wet fish, just the cool sting of her skin against mine.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Gabriel Fallen.”
I try to speak, but my tongue has grown a layer of fur. I kick my legs to crawl out of the sheets, but my limbs have turned into tentacles overnight. All I manage is to kind of slither around in my own filth.
I’m completely fucked up. In more ways than one.
“I bet I smell like a peach,” I mumble. Words hurt.
“You smell like the vomit I just saved you from swallowing. Consider this a royal edict – you’re going to drag your ass to the shower and think about the fact that while you were passed out in your own puke Noah screwed me senseless in there. Like, seriously, what other possible use do you have for all those nozzles? Fuck me dead, that was amazing.” She tosses her golden hair over her shoulder. “But first, you’re going to make yourself presentable, then you and I are going to have a little chat.”
I groan. Foggy memories swirl around in my head. The homecoming dance. Making Claudia come while Dorien and his band played. I had such plans for us once we got back to our place. I even have some new toys I bought for the occasion laid out on my bed.
But then I got that email, and I…
I messed everything up. Again.
SLAP.
Claudia hits my cheek again, pulling me back from my dark thoughts. “Owwwwwie.”
“Did you even know how much trouble we had sneaking you out of that party last night? Noah slid down a fireman’s pole with you over his shoulders. It was quite spectacular.” She plucks her phone from her pocket and scrolls through her feed. “Luckily, it seems to have paid off. No photos of you crying or acting like a complete fool have reached the internet, although there’s a delightful video of you chugging mead from a Viking horn that’s been retweeted by your fan page, but I figure that’s just a normal Saturday night for Gabriel Fallen.”
“I…” I lean forward to try to catch a glimpse of the video, but the demons in my brain have other ideas. I fall back against the sofa, clutching my head. “Ow, ow, ow, little pitchfork wankers.”
“Shower. Now.”
I roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. Claudia has already laid out clothes for me, so all I have to do is turn step under the water. I turn the temperature ice-cold, partly because I need to wake up and partly because thinking about what Claudia and Noah did in here makes my dick hard. As I run shampoo through my hair I curse myself for missing it.
By the time I’m showered and dressed I feel a million times better. The pitchfork demons make a tactical retreat and I even whistle a little tune as I saunter out to see Claudia again.
The tune dies on my lips as I catch sight of her icicle eyes.
“Gabriel, look at me.” Claudia grabs my wrists, tugging me back down onto the sofa. Those frosty eyes fix on mine. “I need you to understand. You can’t do this. I need you, Gabriel. I know you’re not used to being needed. I know it’s freaking you out. But I’m not going to bullshit you or sing you lullabies and hide what’s really going on. You told me yourself people have done that to you for your entire life, and I respect you too much to be one of them. So I’m going to lay it out for you, but you have to listen.”
I nod. I can’t move even if I wanted to – those fierce eyes of hers make it clear that to move is to die, and while I imagine death by Claudia August to be an exquisite way to go, I can’t help but be aware of her knee dangerously close to my dangly bits. Noah’s warnings about her echo in my ears.
“Just because we sorted out Brentwood and Alec doesn’t mean I’m safe. There are bad people who will kill me to keep me from my father’s empire, even though I don’t want it. I need you to not fuck shit