Chapter 21 Tsunami of Suds
Zane
The rhythm of my knuckles against Seri’s door matched the tune I’d been whistling.
“Yo, Seri! I am here to relieve your boredom!” I shouldered my way in before the last syllable faded, because why knock if you’re not gonna commit to the bit?
She sat cross-legged on the bed, honey curls haloed by lamplight. Brumous lifted his shaggy head from the blanket just long enough to yawn, all dagger-sized teeth and pink tongue.
“Cas and Ko are neck deep in security cameras, so I took it upon myself to provide you with endless entertainment,” I told her.
Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth the second our eyes met.
Aha!
“Spill.” I hopped onto the mattress beside her, making her bounce and Brumous let out a startled yip. “I’ve been doing an intensive study, and that’s your ‘I want something, but won’t ask’ face. C’mon, darling, hit me. New phone? Private jet? A solid gold bidet?”
“What’s a bidet?”
“Imagine a toilet and a water fountain had a baby.”
“Oh. Um, no.” Her fingers twisted together. “I, um, want…”
“Anything, Seri.” I leaned closer. “Diamonds? Tacos? Kisses?”
A blush exploded across her cheeks. Cruor, she was fun to tease!
“You’ll love my kisses, I promise,” I stage-whispered, waggling my brows.
“Shower!” she blurted. “I just wanted to ask for a shower!”
My grin died mid-waggle.
For several reasons.
“Cas would murder me with my own bones if we mess up your bandages.” The words tasted like motor oil.
That resigned little nod she gave? Worse than swallowing nails. Her sad sigh? Hit my ribs like a sniper shot. Arabesque’s ghostly hands were still throttling her, even here.
I hated that. I hated that she’d been taught to accept less, to settle for scraps, to lose without protest.
“We can definitely do a sponge bath or a washcloth wipe-down, though,” I chirped, trying to heal a wound I hadn’t inflicted. “Old-school glamour, totally retro.”
“That’s fine. It’s just, my hair is so greasy—”
“Hair!” I rocketed upright, nearly kneeing Brumous in his fuzzy gonads. “I can wash that! Easy-peasy!”
“If you’re sure it’s not a bother—”
Clamping my palms on either side of her face, I touched my nose to hers, staring into her wide gray eyes like nothing else in the world existed.
“Serafina Cimmerian. You are not, and will never be, a bother to me or to my brothers. Okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured, although I could see she didn’t believe it.
Not yet, but one day she would.
I’d make damn sure of it.
#
Mrs. Wentzel and the potato peeler looked like they were heading out for the day when I ran into the kitchen.
“Do you need something, Prince Zane?” The chubby old lady didn’t blink when I barreled past her, eyeing up my work space.
The wide farmhouse sink glared at me, its gleaming surface practically begging for chaos. I could already picture it: Water splashing everywhere, shampoo suds up my nose, Seri’s laughter echoing through the room.
Genius. Pure, unadulterated genius.
“Nope. I’m golden,” I told her. “Quitting time for you?”
“Yes, but I’m happy to make you something before I go. Are you looking for a snack?”
“Nah. ’Sides, I can microwave like a pro. If I get peckish, I’ll just nuke something.” I watched her reach for her bag as the boy shrugged on a Naruto hoodie. “I thought Greg said dinner’s at five?”
“True enough, but Mr. Storms likes all staff gone by four.”
She gave me a look that I knew was more than a look, but I didn’t have a good read on her yet, so I just shrugged.
“I’ve left steaks marinating in the fridge for your dinner, along with salad and potatoes,” she added when I stayed silent. “The notepad on the island there has all the instructions for cooking the steak and warming the potatoes. Oh, and there’s a bowl set aside for Brumous, too.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Wentzel. You, too, kiddo.”
The boy, who looked about fourteen, swallowed hard as his eyes bugged out.
“This is my grandson, Addison. He lives with me. Mr. Storms was generous enough to hire him as my kitchen help.”
Every time she mentioned the estate manager, her eyes sharpened to razor blades.
Well, she doesn’t have to worry about that bastard anymore. No one does.
“Pleased to meet you,” the boy mumbled.
“Same, man. Wait. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I do it on the computer,” he said, looking like each word hurt him to say.
“Gotcha. Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow,” my mouth said as my brain shouted, Go, go, go!
“Tomorrow.” Mrs. Wentzel gave me a nod and headed for the door, where she paused and half turned. Her brown eyes sparkling, she dropped a wink. “Oh, and Prince Zane? Whatever havoc you’re about to cause in here, I kindly request that you clean up after yourself.”
“Mrs. Wentzel, it’ll be like it never happened.” I swept her a bow even as I crossed my fingers behind my back.
#
Twenty-seven towels.
That’s how many I dumped on the kitchen island. One immediately became Brumous’ chew toy.
“Up you go, princess.” My hands spanned Seri’s waist as I lifted her onto the marble countertop. She weighed less than our dumbbells.
“Now lie back,” I ordered, rolling a towel beneath her neck so the sink gaped below her curls like a porcelain mouth.
Once I got her settled, and Brumous had parked himself inches from the fridge, nose quivering at the steak scent, I told her to wait, then raced out of the room.
I was halfway back from my glorious treasure hunt, arms fully loaded, when I nearly ran over Koa as he came out of our newly christened security room, a cookie in one hand and crumbs around his mouth as he chewed another.
Cas loomed behind him, a few strands of blond hair actually daring to escape from his man bun.
“What.” Cas’ eyebrows did that twitchy thing, the same as the time I’d duct-taped swords to the ceiling fan blades.
“Just helping Seri with something,” I murmured as I trotted past them.
They followed, of course, and Ko’s slow, wicked grin was nearly worth the interference that was sure to come.
“Is Zane measuring you for a sarcophagus?” he chuckled.
Seri blinked at him.
“What’s that, Koko?”
“Coffin for fancy people. All the rage in ancient Egypt.” He plucked a towel, draping it over his arm like a waiter. “You’d make a gorgeous Nefertiti.”
“Hmm.” Cas’ grunt almost sounded affectionate. “Fitting for our queen.”
Our queen.
The words buzzed in my fangs as I thunked shampoo bottles onto the counter. Coconut, lavender, something called “dragon fruit dew” that smelled like a hard candy orgy, and even that citrus stuff Ko insisted on buying for us, but only he and Cas used.
What? Bar of soap worked just as good.
Then Seri sucker-punched me with a shiver.
“Cold?” I asked, already reaching for her.
Cas moved faster. One second she was trembling on the marble, the next cradled against his chest like some Gothic romance cover model. I was jealous of the arm he had under her thighs.
“Idiot,” he grunted at me.
Ko snorted, yanking three towels from my precious pile and smoothing them down into a terry cloth pallet.
“There. Lay her back down, Cas. Gently.”
“Don’t tell me how to—”
“You’re twitching like a bear with a bee up its ass. Here.” Ko patted the newly padded counter. “Seri deserves better than your bristly version of care.”
Cas’ glare was green fire, but he set her down like she was made of spun sugar.
His big swordsman hands carefully tucked her long tresses into the sink, although he nearly had a full-on freak-out when a curl snagged on one of his calluses.
My rolled-up towel was adjusted seven times before he finally stepped back.
“Beat it, grandmas,” I said, hip-checking them both toward the stove. “You’re blocking my lighting. In fact, why don’t you shoo? Hair washing is a sacred ritual. Don’t profane it with your presence.”
“Did you grab every bottle in the house?” Cas asked with something close to humor, his finger tapping the shampoo battalion.
“Bro! You of all people know that options equal strategy. What if citrus makes her gag? What if vanilla’s too basic?”
“It doesn’t matter. Really.” Her nose scrunched. “Whatever you—”
“Nope! This is about what Seri wants, not about whatever.” The words came out sharper than I meant. Brumous whined, shoving his muzzle under my palm as if to check on my mental wellbeing.
Damn dire really was an emotional support dog.
In heavy disguise.
“Speaking of.” Ko leaned against the island, all casual-like. “What’s your favorite scent? You have a usual brand? And do we need anything special to properly care for these gorgeous spirals?”
“Amabel’s usually smelled like coconut.” Seri’s fingers plucked at the towel Cas had draped over her front like a blanket. “Eluned’s was always a strawberry scent.”
“Your stepsisters shared their shampoos with you,” I deadpanned, knowing that was unlikely.
“No, they were just wasteful and threw them out before they were empty.”
Well, fuck.
“Oh!” Her gray eyes widened as a small smile curved her lips. “Once, Arabesque tried a new brand, didn’t like it, and tossed it out after one use! I don’t remember the name, but it was a red bottle and smelled expensive. It was so nice.”
Cas’ phone appeared faster than a cobra strike.
“Red bottle, you said? What fragrance notes would you say ‘expensive’ has?”
“No, you cabbage!” Ko snatched the phone and whapped Cas’ bicep with it. “She means it was the first time she had shampoo security. She doesn’t need you chasing scraps.”
The faucet handle screamed under my grip. For half a heartbeat, I saw Arabesque’s face in the stainless steel, smirking as she dumped empty bottles into Seri’s cracked hands.
Brumous barked.
Right. Focus.
Just then, the rubber duckie escaped my back pocket and flew in a graceful arc of neon yellow glory before Brumous swallowed it whole. Seri tried to sit up, wincing as she bumped her infected arm, and was denied when she tried to jump down.
“Brummy!” she called out as she squirmed in Cas’ unyielding arms.
“We have a vet on staff?” I crouched next to Brumous.