Xander, otherwise known as the Slayer and formerly Lucifer’s personal assassin, kissed the living daylights out of his woman. By the time he was through, Kyanna clung to his broad shoulders, fingers speared through his short deep brown hair, as she made needy little noises in the back of her throat. Their audience was all but forgotten.
With a wholly male grin of satisfaction, Xander stepped back, balancing his woman with a hand on her shoulder until she found her legs once more. The side of her neck was bright pink, abraded from Xander’s teeth and the dark whisker stubble covering the lower half of his face.
“Xander!” she hissed, red staining her cheeks as she remembered Gideon’s presence once more.
“Yeah,” Gideon drawled, plopping onto one of the kitchen chairs. “Thanks for that, by the way. I can never unsee that, you know.”
“Welcome,” Xander snarked. He sat down at the table and drew Kyanna onto his lap, one arm around her waist as he laced their fingers together on her thigh.
“First sign of trouble, and I’m shimmering Kyanna out of here,” Xander warned pointedly, the rough rasp of his voice grating through the room.
Xander had once possessed a voice every angel in Heaven envied. The sound so pure and clear, so persuasive, he could make you do his bidding and believe it was all your own idea with a simple suggestion. When the angel Gabriel and the others had torn Xander’s wings from him, they’d also mutilated his voice, forever cursing him with the abomination of sound he used now, which explained why he seldom spoke.
Kyanna twisted in his arms and jabbed Xander square in the chest with a pointed finger. “Oh, no you will not. You will not interfere with me doing my job.”
“Baby,” Xander uttered warningly.
“Xander.” Kyanna’s her chin went up in mutiny. “You promised.”
The fine lines around Xander’s mouth tightened, but eventually he nodded.
“And you will not hover,” she added, poking him again for good measure.
“That I did not promise.”
She shot him a mock glare, but then relented, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He captured the back of her head in retaliation, giving her another eye-glazing kiss. Just to prove some point, Gideon was sure.
“So where’s the Halfling?” Xander asked, turning to Gideon.
“Her name is Maggie. Use it,” Gideon snapped, earning a surprised look from Kyanna. Xander’s expression remained placid, but a spark of interest glittered in the depths of his stormy gray stare. Conjuring a caramel macchiato, Gideon leaned back in his chair and propped his ankle on his knee. “She’ll be down when she’s good and ready.”
Xander grunted, conjuring a can of Pepsi for himself and a tall glass of iced tea with a wedge of lemon for Kyanna.
“Go ahead and say it,” Gideon barked.
“Carly told us,” Kyanna admitted, excitement bubbling from her. “About Maggie being able to touch you. So it’s true? I mean, not that I didn’t believe Carly. But after all this time, Gideon! You can finally touch someone!”
Heaven forbid something should actually remain a secret. Not in this group.
“How are things going between you?” Kyanna leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially.
Gideon gritted his teeth, reminding himself that Kyanna and Carly, now viewed themselves as his honorary little sisters, nosing into his business at every turn. Even as that reality chafed, the thought warmed him.
Before he could tell Kyanna to butt out, Maggie appeared in the doorway. For a moment, he could only stare at her, probably with that same stupid look of awe Mikhail had aimed her way that morning. She’d changed into a fresh pair of jeans, and a silky, patterned top that hugged her curves and fell in soft layers around her hips. She’d also pulled her hair up in some kind of a claw-shaped clip. A few tendrils had come loose, streaming down the side of her face and trailing over her neck.
She reached up and tugged the strand by her face behind her ear. From the corner of his eye, he caught the way Xander stiffened and stared hard at Maggie’s belly.
“I’d say they’re getting along pretty damned well,” Xander growled, turning his head to give Gideon an arch stare. “Wouldn’t you, Gideon?”
Gideon watched as Maggie made her way around the table, sitting down on the opposite side as him, vigilant not to meet his gaze.
“Not so much,” he muttered.
Kyanna, as if sensing the sudden tension and seeking a way to dispel it, reached over and extended her hand.
“Hi!” she chirped brightly. “I’m Kyanna Hughes, and this is my husband, Xander.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Maggie said, shaking Kyanna’s hand. “Maggie Michaels.”
Kyanna landed a sharp elbow to his middle when Xander made no effort to greet her. He grunted before thrusting out his hand as well, obviously not pleased he was being expected to extend himself this way. Eyeing Xander warily, Maggie accepted his handshake.
“We’re still working on manners,” Kyanna stage-whispered, earning herself a fierce scowl and a warning squeeze from her husband, who nestled her firmly back in his embrace.