Lead Heart (Seraph Black, #3)

I jumped into the shower and washed with Cabe’s hair products, trying to keep my mind from travelling back to the kiss we had shared to seal the bond, though it was difficult with his scent suddenly surrounding me. I had thought about what it would be like to kiss Cabe and Noah, especially in the times that the strain had taken a hold of me, but none of my thoughts could have prepared me for the reality. Forming the bond had broken down my final wall of resistance, and now I was captive to the memory of a strong pair of hands gripping me while a firm mouth pulled the past from my lips and changed my future forever. Briefly, I wondered what it would be like to kiss one of the guys out of simple want rather than a need to accomplish something.

Somehow, it didn’t seem like the sort of life that I was destined to live, but I allowed the fantasy to take roots anyway, curling something inside my belly that settled heavily and refused to budge. I opened the glass shower door after rinsing myself and a scream immediately hit the back of my throat.

The woman sitting on the sink laughed, jumping off and handing me a towel.

“Easy,” Sophia said, dark eyebrows raised, “they only sent me in here to see if I could spot your mark.”

She did a cursory sweep of my body as I hastily pulled the towel up to cover my breasts, pretending that modesty had me covering that part of my body first.

“You’re crazy,” I muttered, unable to really pull up any feelings of dislike for the woman.

Maybe it was because she reminded me a little of Poison; they both had an inherent sexuality that showed in their walks, in the husky notes of their voices, and the knowing glint to their eyes. The similarities ended there, however. Poison was an original; nobody could ever be like her. She was a package of insecurity and confidence wrapped around an inflated heart, too big to be healthy. Sophia carried herself like a goddess; I could almost believe that she rested on a marble pedestal—a bed sheet draped around her curvy form—when she wasn’t interacting with other people. Her eyes were deep and dark and knowledgeable; a perfect match for the heightened intelligence that I had also glimpsed in her Atmá’s eyes. Jack had been an effortless Atmá: a simple center of gravity, with the Sophies orbiting him seamlessly.

Sophia laughed again, pushing out of the bathroom and leaving the heavy wooden door swinging wide so that Sophie and Jack—who were currently lounging on my bed—got an elongated glimpse of me standing there clutching my towel. Since I didn’t have any fresh clothes to wear anyway, I squared my shoulders. Fixing the towel around my body, I pushed out of the bathroom after Sophia, sitting primly in an armchair facing the bed.

“I did try to stop them,” an amused voice said from the other side of the room, drawing my attention to Jayden, who was leaning with his back against the closed door to the bedroom.

I was glad that he hadn’t also managed to see into the bathroom. It didn’t seem inappropriate to sit as I was in front of Jack and the Sophies, but they were much older than Jayden. It was hard to tell their exact ages, especially with the very youthful and energetic impression that I had gleaned from Jack and Sophie, the Australians. Either way, Jayden was only a decade or so older than me. It wasn’t enough of a gap for me to be comfortable exposing myself. I folded my arms a little tighter over my towel-covered chest and pinched my mouth into a frown, looking back to a smiling Jack.

“You can do something about this?” I asked, touching the collar.

I knew that the word mine had lit up again, because Jayden made a disgusted scoffing sound from where he stood, and the Sophies shot each other a quick, surprised look.

“Why didn’t you say anything about it earlier?” Jack asked, getting off the bed to kneel in front of me, touching the collar hesitantly.

“The Klovoda never did anything about my stalker before. I didn’t expect them to suddenly start helping now.”

“The Klovoda isn’t under the direction of Dominic Kingsling anymore,” Jack said sharply, before his face softened and he sat back on his heels, sucking in a deep breath. “Sorry. But you should have said something. This is very serious.”

“You can’t do anything?”

“Oh, I can fix the bomb. It’ll only take a second. I meant your stalker. Something needs to be done about him.”

I glanced over at Jayden, but he seemed completely nonchalant, his arms folded loosely, looking on with a surface layer of curiosity. Sinking my teeth into my lip, I consulted my lap, trying to figure out what to do.

“Please,” I ended up saying. “Please, can you take it off now?”

Jack nodded and reached out for the collar again, closing his eyes and crinkling his forehead up. “Disintegrate,” he ordered.

I watched in fascination as little grey flecks of matter rained down around my arms, settling in my lap and brushing down my back. The weight from my neck disappeared, and after a moment Jack fell back. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to consult the mirror, gasping at my bare neck.

“How did you do that?” I demanded excitedly, spilling back into the room.

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