Change of Heart (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 3) Page 7

  “As a fan of the Godzilla franchise, I’m inclined to agree with you.”

  “Rawr.” Samzilla hooked his tiny fingers into claws. “Rawr.”

  “You’re on bath duty.” She squared off with her mate. “No bubbles in my hallway this time.”

  “Bubbles?” Sam pulled on an innocent face. “In the hall?”

  Samzilla hid his face in his father’s neck and squealed with laughter.

  “That’s what you’ve got to look forward to, if you mate into this pack. Most of the time Sam is the one who comes out soaked and Samzilla is dry as a bone.”

  “Not to be rude,” I cut in, nervous about Midas zeroing in on me, “but why am I here?”

  “Midas is hunting you.” Her eyes twinkled. “You don’t want to be out there where he can find you, do you?”

  The answer took a moment to form, and it was too late by then.

  “You don’t know how happy this makes me.” She took me by the hand. “How happy it makes all of us.”

  Better to play dumb than plant a dirty foot in my mouth. “That I’m being hunted?”

  “He’s courting you.” Kate chuckled and hauled me into a large bedroom. “That’s a big deal.”

  Especially for Midas.

  For a second, I couldn’t tell if she spoke the words, or if I only imagined hearing them.

  “You’re shorter and thinner than me, but I love a good maxi dress, and I have safety pins.” She opened the closet. “Blue, red, or animal print?”

  “I’m not picky.”

  “Then animal print it is. My mother-in-law keeps buying safari themes for me, and this is the best excuse I’m ever going to have for getting rid of one.” She pulled out a long dress with thin straps and a high waist. “Zebra okay?”

  The print was so loud, I could barely hear her over it. “Zebra is fine.”

  “Good.” She tugged it over my head then let it cascade to my ankles before reaching into the neck of the dress. She unfastened the knot on the towel, which dropped onto my feet. “I’ll get this washed and put back in the cabin.”

  The communal dressing area in my previous job meant I didn’t mind a little public nudity among friends. “Thanks.”

  “Hold still, and I’ll get you pinned so you don’t flash anyone.” She caught my eye, hers smiling. “Unless you want to, that is.”

  “Um, no.” I kicked the towel away. “I’m good.”

  About the time she announced me done, I noticed her angle her head to one side.

  “He’s here.” She took a few steps to the left then back to the right. “Where do I hide?”

  The urge to pinch myself and make absolutely certain I wasn’t dreaming surfaced again. “Why do you have to hide exactly?”

  “Do you think I want him to know I aided and abetted you?” She scoffed. “Please.” She flipped a hand at me. “Samzilla let you in. I just didn’t kick you back out.” She winked. “If anyone asks, this was all his fault.”

  “Duck into the bathroom with your family.” Catching the spirit, I walked out with her. “I’ll handle Midas.”

  Once she was hunkered down with her mate and son, I strolled to the front door.

  Midas, proving gwyllgi had excellent hearing, said, “Knock, knock.”

  In my sweetest voice, I called out, “Who’s there?”

  “Midas.”

  “Hmm.” I inched closer. “Midas who?”

  “Midas well let me in. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Hey!” I flung open the door. “I’m the funny one in this relationship.”

  “Then you only have yourself to blame for rubbing off on me.”

  Folding my arms over my chest, I inched closer. “So, you admit it.”

  “That you’re a bad influence?” He tilted his head. “Yes.”

  Barefoot, I kicked him in the shin. “That I’m funny.”

  “I would say funny looking, like I used to tell my sister, but we both know you’re beautiful.”

  “Aww.”

  Midas slid his gaze behind me. “You might as well come out, Kate.”

  “I’m not here,” she sing-songed. “Go back to being adorable together.”

  Crooking his arm, he held his elbow out for me. “Can I walk you to the cabin?”

  “You shifted and chased me through the woods. I’m not certain I feel safe with you alone in the dark.”

  A flicker of…something…pinched his features before he wiped them smooth.

  Lately, he had been smiling easier, laughing quicker. I had almost forgotten how somber he could be.

  “I might require an escort,” I kept going, desperate to dig myself out of the hole. “Samzilla?”

  True to his mother’s word, he emerged from his bath dry as a bone. “Hadwee!”

  Sam squished when he walked as he trailed his son, and he left wet footprints behind him.

  The kid bulleted at me, naked as a jaybird, and I knew what I had to do.

  I scooped him up in a practiced swing, setting him on my hip, the way I had with my little brother.

  “This is my champion of choice.” I checked with Kate and Sam. “As long as his parents don’t mind.”

  “Well…” Kate slanted her eyes toward Sam. “It’s not like he’s had his bath, so why not?”

  Leaning in, I whispered to Samzilla, “Will you protect me in the scary woods?”

  “Yep.” He wriggled to get down. “I big grr.”

  Reddish-pink magic swirled around his feet, and he splashed in it until it covered his head. His giggles were infectious, and I couldn’t help smiling. And, okay, my heart melted with the magic when I saw my first baby gwyllgi.

  About the size of a beagle, he was covered in downy gray fur like you expect to see on baby chicks.

  “Oh. My. Goddess.” I squealed, but I couldn’t help it. “He’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Gwyllgi pups are the most adorable thing you’ll ever see,” Kate agreed. “They’re also nearly indestructible, thank God, because they’re the sneakiest, most destructive, dare-deviling things you’ll ever see too.”

  “Samzilla climbed one of the longleaf pines last week, testing out his claws.” Sam all but glowed with pride. “He jumped from the highest limb. Just leapt into thin air. Totally fearless. I caught him, but it shaved a century off my life, if you know what I mean.”

  “Not fearless.” Kate worked to sound scolding, but she smiled. “He knew his daddy would catch him.”

  The family moment washed over me, and I soaked in how life should be for all kids.

  Loving parents, beautiful home, tightknit community.

  What Kate said stuck with me. How Samzilla had taken a leap of faith, certain his father would always be there to catch him. How secure he must be to have that much trust so young. How confident in his parents’ love for him. How bold to test his limits without fear because he hadn’t learned to be afraid.

  “I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Kate promised, and then shifted into her primal form.

  Samzilla, taking his duty seriously, bounded between Midas and me the whole way back to our cabin. From there, Kate swooped in to tussle with him in the dirt then darted off with him in pursuit.

  “They welcomed me into their home.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but it fell out of my mouth. “Why?”

  “We’re courting.” Midas closed the gap Samzilla had kept between us. “You’re as good as pack to them.”

  The squeaky barks grew more distant, but I could still hear the littlest gwyllgi challenging his mom.

  Heart brimming from the encounter, I glowed with the aftermath of our game. “Are all pack families…?”

  Loving. Happy. Nurturing.

  “No.” He eased behind me, slid his arms along my sides, and linked his wide hands above my navel. “Not all of them.”

  “Why did you chase me?” I twisted around to see his face. “I thought you were playing but…”

  “The pack wanted to see you, and you needed to see them.” />
  “You were bribing me with your pack.” I elbowed him. “With Samzilla.”

  “I don’t know why you’ve put off dinner with my mother, but I wanted to show you there’s more to this pack than her.” His shrug moved through my back. “Or me.”

  The pack embraced me for one reason, and one reason only: Midas.

  These people loved him. That much was clear. The gwyllgi I interacted with on the regular at the Faraday were enforcers. They looked to Midas for leadership, not comfort. Not fun. They acted more like employees. This—coming to the den—was meeting the family.

  And since he wanted me to see this, to experience it, he must be closing in on my vulnerable spots.

  “You owe me a secret.”

  We had promised to exchange one every day, but we didn’t always remember. Between the witchborn fae and Natisha’s bargain, we had so much else on our minds it was hard not to let the small things slip.

  Midas exhaled, warm across my nape. “I ate the last of the chicken wings.”

  “That’s not a secret.” I elbowed him again for good measure. “You had sauce all over your muzzle.”

  To hide the evidence of his crime, he had gone as far as to shift and gulp them down, bones and all.

  “I also ate the last slice of tiramisu.”

  “The horror,” I breathed. “You, sir, are a monster.”

  “Now tell me your secret.”

  “I prefer Coke to Pepsi.”

  “That’s not a secret.”

  “Neither is the disappearing act my food has learned since you moved in with me.”

  We both tensed, and my stomach dropped into my feet.

  Moved in sounded so…permanent. If he brushed it off as a sleepover, I didn’t know what I would do.

  “I like living with you.” He pressed his lips to my throat. “I like sleeping with you.”

  Heat curled through my gut, and my chest went tight. “I’ve noticed.”

  Resting his forehead on my shoulder, he laughed softly. “I noticed you noticing.”

  Hard to resist the invitation pressing against my backside every dusk.

  Very hard.

  Very, very hard.

  Phew, it was getting hot out here.

  “Thank you for this.” I leaned my cheek against the side of his head. “I needed it.”

  Angling his chin, he spoke against my throat. “How did you know what to do? With the heart?”

  The pleasant buzz from the brush of his mouth on my skin helped me keep my nerve. “Bishop.” From what I could tell, his stomach was cast iron. Mine? Not so much. “He sent me autopsy videos to watch.”

  I had thrown up. A lot. A whole lot. It was necessary, though. I couldn’t afford to damage the hearts.

  “I can’t talk about it more right now.” I swallowed the excess saliva pooling in my mouth. “That okay?”

  “You don’t have to ask me.” He withdrew. “You know your limits.”

  No matter how much I wished otherwise, I blew out a sigh. “We can’t hide out here forever.”

  “The city can wait.” He guided me back into the cabin to the bed. “Just a little while longer.”

  Seven

  The weight of the witchborn fae heart I had taken still pressed on mine when I woke at moonrise to Midas wrapping me in his arms like the tortilla to my burrito, but I had felt the burden shift during the day, so that Midas and I shared its load.

  Mmm. Not gonna lie. A loaded burrito sounded good right about now.

  Ambrose paced along the far wall and jerked his head toward me when he sensed my attention.

  Last night had gone sideways, in all ways, and I wasn’t sure what to do about any of it today.

  Bishop owed me answers for his link to Blithe, given her connection to Greenleaf and Greenleaf’s connection to Faete. We had to check in with Gayle to see how the Mendelsohn wargs were recovering. We also had to track down the missing teens, if they hadn’t returned home.

  The overwhelming urge to turn into Midas’s warmth, bury my face in his chest, and forget the world hit with dizzying force.

  Ambrose, who appeared unimpressed with the lack of people to watch in the forest, sat on the bed.

  Without features, I couldn’t read his expression, but I didn’t need a clearer picture than what he fed me through our bond.

  “We need to get moving,” I murmured to him in reluctant agreement. “Break over.”

  Midas grumbled and turned onto his back. “All right.”

  “Thinking out loud.” I grimaced as I shifted onto my opposite side to face him. “Sorry about that.”

  “I’m getting used to you waking me up at ungodly hours.”

  “I’m up at dusk like any respectable necromancer.”

  “That’s the equivalent of Mom rising with the dawn.” He squinted over at me. “You’re both nuts.”

  “Goldie, you’re the one who climbed into bed with me first. You invited yourself into my crazy. All I did was make room for you.”

  “You have soft sheets,” he mumbled through a yawn, “and you smell nice.”

  “I could spritz my deodorant onto a set of sheets and have them dropped here for you.”

  “Grr.”

  “Did you just say grr?” I dug my fingers into his ribs until he laughed. “What kind of gwyllgi are you?”

  “A sleepy one.” He rolled off the bed to escape. “You think it’s cute when Samzilla does it.”

  “Breathing is cute when Samzilla does it.” I scooted into his spot. “I might have to save myself for him.”

  This time, the growl he turned on me was real. “You are mine.”

  The thrill zinging down my nerve endings would only encourage more dominant behavior, so I nipped it in the bud with reluctance. “I’m actually mine, but you’re cute for thinking so.”

  The way he tugged on his hair would leave him with bald spots one day. “Hadley.”

  “You’re jealous of a toddler. Let that sink in.” I paused for effect. “He’s like two. Or three. I suck guessing kids’ ages.” I should have let it drop, but I was having too much fun yanking Midas’s tail. “Now his dad…” I chuckled evilly. “He’s one hot—”

  Midas pounced on me, pinned me to the bed, and I screamed until my throat burned with laughter.

  A snarl revving in his throat, he delivered punishing bites to the tender skin of my neck while I kicked my legs and tickled his ribs until his chuckles interrupted his feasting. The way he smiled, so happy and light, I couldn’t have resisted him if I tried. And I didn’t. Not even a little.

  I fused our mouths together and answered hunger for hunger. He lowered his hips into the cradle of mine, and I arched into his first thrust. The fabric of my dress, of his jeans, did nothing to hide his need. I twined my fingers in his hair and rocked against him, keeping him too busy to stop and overthink it.

  “Hadley,” he groaned. “I…”

  “Shh.” I visited stinging kisses along his jaw until I reached his favorite spot, and then I bit him until I tasted blood and sweat and his surrender. “I’ve got you.”

  Midas shuddered, his hips gone loose, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him to hold him through his release.

  A long while later, when his breaths lengthened from jagged pants against my cheek, I leaned back and searched his face. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know.” He attempted to withdraw, to escape, but I was stubborn, and I felt in my bones if he got away, he wouldn’t come back. “I haven’t…” He ducked his head. “It’s been a long time since…”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that.” I licked the wound shaped like my teeth. “You’re bleeding.”

  Midas touched his fingers to the side of his throat then examined the red stain.

  “Oops?”

  The crinkle of his forehead deepened, and then it relaxed. “You marked me.”

  “Yup.” I didn’t ease my grip, I tightened it. “What are you going to do about it?”

  A gleam brightened his eyes, and
he lowered his head, teeth on display, ready for payback.

  Squirming beneath him, I could hardly wait for my turn.

  Three punishing knocks rang through the small room as a visitor pounded on the door.

  “Ignore them,” I whispered, aware whoever was out there could hear. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

  For a split second, Midas gave every sign of agreeing with me, no matter how fruitless the endeavor.

  “We found the others,” a miserably familiar voice called through the wood. “Can we talk?”

  “I’ll be right there,” Midas yelled back, then kissed my forehead. “Stay put.”

  Threat or promise, I couldn’t tell, but I was tempted enough to do as he asked. For now.

  Wedging his body in the gap, Midas opened the door. “How are they?”

  “They’re in ICU,” Ford growled. “The drug they snorted collapsed their lungs.”

  “Let me get dressed.” Midas took a step inside the cabin. “I’ll go with you to see their families.”

  “I have something to say.” Ford pushed open the door, his gaze landing on me. “To both of you.”

  Just as before, Midas allowed Ford to run roughshod over him. Over us. And my stomach cramped.

  The certainty Midas was about to resume his game of hot Hadley potato with Ford made me ill.

  “You’re my friend,” Midas said, squaring off with him, “but you need to get out.”

  A slow inhale glided into a long exhale, and Ford glanced between us. Rather than leave, he spoke.

  “I came to let you both know I’ll be transferring to the Buckhead pack for the next six months.” He let a shrug roll through his shoulders. “I wanted to do it in person.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Your momma told me what to expect when I got out here, but I’m still having trouble.”

  Ford didn’t specify if it was me trouble or Martian Roach trouble, but I could guess which bothered him.

  “It’s not you.” He stared right at me, as if he had plucked the thought out of my head. “It’s me.”

  The line was designed for a laugh, and I gave him one, but it hurt. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not right.” He lifted his tee, revealing a mass of scabbing. “I wake up scratching. There’s this itch under my skin I can’t get to, and it’s always there.” He yanked it down again. “I can ignore it during the day, but I can’t help what I do when I sleep.”