“I— Yes.” He threw a glance over his shoulder to McCadden’s door. “All right.”
He’d cut himself off before speaking a refusal. Xerxes loved him too much to deny him. Thane knew his friend would have preferred to stay here, trying to garner a vow to behave from the fallen angel, but he wasn’t sure that was wise. The two would fight again, and as on edge as Xerxes was, he might do something he would regret. Like murder the first person he’d…not befriended, that wasn’t the word. Maybe…tolerated, since his torture.
“I love you, you know,” he told the warrior halfway down the hall. “No matter what, I love you.”
“As I love you.”
When Thane reentered his bedroom, he was surprised to find Cario and Bjorn standing across from each other, silent and glaring daggers.
From one heated scene to another. Well, he’d certainly gotten the distraction he’d craved, hadn’t he. “Something wrong?” Thane asked.
Both tossed him a scowl, but only Cario answered. “No. Nothing. Just enjoying…your friend’s…wit.” Her gaze snagged on Xerxes. She licked her lips, shifted from one foot to the other. “Hello,” she said, voice now a shimmering whisper.
His friend gave no reaction.
The acrid taste of her lie claimed Thane’s attention. She had enjoyed nothing. Grimacing, he strode to the wet bar and filled three glasses with single malt. He downed his and took his friends theirs, knowing they hated the foul flavor of lies as much as he did. They accepted gratefully.
“I cannot be with this creature,” Bjorn said, his disgust clear.
“You were never on the menu,” she replied tartly, gaze still on Xerxes. As tough as she’d looked down at the bar, she now resembled an eager little girl at Christmas, ready to open her presents.
“What a blessed day this has turned out to be, then,” Bjorn said drily.
“I’ve eaten little boys like you for breakfast. Believe me, you do not want to mess with me.”
Bjorn was quick to snap back, “Actually, there’s nothing else I’d rather do than mess with you. And I doubt you’ve eaten them so much as feasted on their rotting carcasses.”
She lost her eagerness. Actually appeared insulted. “I do not feast on the dead.”
“You sure about that?”
Her elbow whipped back, then slammed forward. If Bjorn had not possessed amazing reflexes, she would have broken his nose. As it was, he was able to catch her fist midair, preventing any damage.
“Such a weakling,” Bjorn said with more of that disgust. Disgust now laced with smug superiority.
“Is that so?” She knocked her forehead into his, and this time he couldn’t stop her. A grunt left him as he released her. He swayed on his feet.
Anger rose inside of Thane. “You do not hurt my friends, female. Ever. You told me you would not, and I heard the truth in your claim.”
Her nose went into the air. “I must have lied.”
No. He would have sensed it. But it was apparent she had changed her mind. “You will leave now,” Thane said. As if that had still been in question. She was lucky she was still alive. “I’ll escort you out.”
“Escort me out like so much garbage? I don’t think so.” She spun on her heel and pegged him with the fierceness of her frown. “I’ll show myself out.”
“Feel free.” He moved aside.
She cast Xerxes another glance, as if she expected him to do or say something. The warrior did not. Finally, she stomped past Thane, past Xerxes—careful not to touch him. The door slammed closed behind her.
How many doors would he be forced to replace before this night ended?
He kept his gaze on the monitors, ensuring she did indeed leave the club. A quick call, and he added her name to the list of people never allowed to return.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he heard Xerxes ask Bjorn.
“No.” The single word sounded as if it had been pushed through a cavern of broken glass.
“My apologies for the poor selection,” Thane said. “If you would like someone else, I can—”