“I can see that is true.”
Kylie groaned even louder and banged her head against the side of the bed. “Argh! Make him go away. We’ll be downstairs to let them in in a minute. With clothes on.”
Dag didn’t bother to repeat her instructions, just slammed the window closed and turned to face her, spreading his wings to block the view from outside. “I take responsibility for this. I failed to properly protect you.”
The statement made Kylie’s brain shoot immediately to condoms, which they had so not used, and panic took over for a second. Then she invested a minute in relearning how to breathe, and reminded herself with a great sense of relief that she was on the pill. It didn’t make everything better, but it helped a little. “Yeah, well, it’s a little late to worry about it now, but hopefully it’s not a big deal. I mean, I’m clean, and unless you’ve had way more free time while you were awake than I’ve been imagining, I’m guessing the chances of you carrying anything are pretty small. I mean, if those microbes can even live through the three-hundred-years locked-in-stone in the first place.”
Dag’s wings rustled, and his expression shifted from grim stoicism to clear confusion. “I do not understand what you speak of. Of course you bathe regularly, and what does my slumber have to do with any of this? I allowed an outsider to stumble upon us without knowing he approached, and I allowed him to see your nakedness. I should have guarded you better. The failure shames me.”
Oh. So not the condom thing, then? Kylie felt her cheeks light up like a menorah on the last day of Hanukkah. “Um, yeah. Right. We were interrupted. That sucked.” Feeling around on the floor beside her, her fingers brushed against a pile of cloth. It was her T-shirt. Kylie nearly wept with relief as she pulled it on. At least her tits were covered now. One—er, two—down, one to go. “But it’s not like it was another drude, or another psychotic electrician, so that’s a plus. No harm, no foul, right?”
Peering around the dim space—since Dag’s wings continued to block the window’s vantage point but also the light coming through it—she finally spotted her jeans and could have kissed them, she’d been missing them so much. She wriggled into those before she rolled to her feet and turned to face the Guardian. “It’s not like I enjoyed being woken up and meeting Wynn’s fiancé while nude and out of it, but I’ll live through it. I think saying it ‘shames’ you might be taking things a bit too far.”
She spoke the truth, but none of her words did anything to cool her blush or calm the twist of unease in her belly. Probably because none of them could change the fact that she’d just lost her mind and had sex with the worst excuse for a one-night stand in history—a nonhuman, immortal, shapeshifting, demon-fighting gargoyle whom she had met just a week ago. Dag might not be a bad Guardian, but she was definitely a bad Kylie.
Very, very bad.
She would have to come up with a suitable punishment on the way to letting her guests into the house. You know, as she should have done in the first place. Was it possible to draw and quarter oneself, or did that require a team effort?
She got halfway out the door before Dag caught up to her, placing a now-human hand on her shoulder. “Kylie…” he began.
“Not now.” She cut him off and quickly scooted out from under his touch. “We can talk about … whatever … later. Right now, Wynn and Knox are waiting. Let’s go.”
Not bothering to wait for his reaction, she headed briskly for the stairs and jogged down before he could stop her. When she deactivated the alarm and swung open the heavy front door, she could feel him behind her, but she’d just have to find a way to ignore his presence.
Kind of like she’d now have to ignore the annoying smirk on her friend’s pretty face.
“Well, hello there, Ms. Kylie.” Wynn grinned, her singsong tone guaranteed to give her friend a migraine in under six seconds. “I think you were expecting us, or did the fact that we were, ahem, coming … slip your mind?”
Though never previously given to fits of violence, Kylie knew one more laughing remark from her friend would lead to a swift fist in the witch’s face. “I hate you right now,” she hissed, turning on her heel to stalk back to the kitchen, leaving her guests to make the best of her less than warm welcome.
Ikh hob es in drerd! To hell with it. She’d already used up all her warmth. In her cheeks.