Chapter Seven
You’re swearing off men, Abi Price. No falling for sexy dragon shifters with huge muscles. Abi looked at his dick, which had hardened upon remembering what Nash’s arms holding him had felt like. You are not getting any, so calm yourself, mister.
Abi leaned against the wall out of sight, but he heard Nash in the foyer, waiting for Law to escort Nash to the meeting.
Abi channeled an owl, and his hearing became more acute. He heard Nash breathing and him shuffling. Nash whispered Abi’s name as if testing the sound of it rolling off his tongue.
He smelled cinnamon even from where he stood, feet away in the dark shadows. It made his eyes shift in a continuous, dizzying motion. He had experienced nothing remotely close to it before.
What are you doing, you idiot? Grappling for even the smallest information about Nash defeated the new resolution to denounce every mate who came along.
It didn’t matter how hot Nash was. He was just like all the other mates.
Just another fake. He’d leave Abi after a couple of weeks, when the mating pull wore off.
He’d ditch Abi at the first realization.
What about your reaction to him? The ever-changing eyes weren’t a coincidence, and neither were Abi’s fangs dropping. And Nash’s scent drove Abi wild. Abi had kneed men in the balls for sniffing around him like a sex-crazed idiot, for doing the same damn thing Abi wanted to do to Nash.
Law shuffled into the foyer. Abi knew it was him because he had a distinct way of walking. He resembled Lurch in some ways. If Lurch were a sexy, blond man with a crew cut who could kill someone with the snap of his fingers. He was tall and leanly muscled underneath his gigantic suit.
Law addressed Nash, asking him to follow him into Peter’s office.
“Thank you,” Nash said.
They left the foyer, and Abi came out of hiding, only to find Peter standing three feet from him.
Abi clutched his chest as he gasped. “You silent-footed shithead.”
Peter chuckled and kept his hands in his black slacks. He wore a black button-down shirt that made him seem sophisticated and timeless. He’d undone the first few buttons, showing off a hint of bare chest.
Peter’s gaze softened when he offered Abi an arm. “Come with me.”
Abi didn’t want to, but no one told Peter no. So Abi threaded his arm through Peter’s, and they walked together through the foyer and down the hall where Abi had just been.
Abi sighed and laid his head on Peter’s shoulder. “Why do I get the impression you know something I don’t?”
Peter smiled. “I know a lot of things you don’t. I’m two hundred and thirty-four years older than you, and I have the entire world’s population in my head.”
Abi rolled his eyes. “So your argument here is that age and access to every person bring wisdom. Am I getting that right?”
Abi wasn’t sure how Peter stayed sane with the internal link. That was just one question Abi would never get answers to. Throughout the years, Abi had learned to live without knowing all of Peter’s secrets.
Peter was the type of guy who held his cards to his chest, even with family.
Abi didn’t tell everyone he met that he was a skinwalker, or that it made his scent appealing to people, either.
That had been his life almost since the day he hit puberty.
So yeah, Abi understood on some level. But Peter’s magic made him too unique.
So unique was he that he was one of two known witches who possessed his type of magic.
“Is having that many people in your head difficult?”
“I’ve learned to shut out a lot of the noise.” Peter smiled at him. “I love talking to you. And the rest of the family.”
“You love telling me what to do.” Abi smiled. Having a direct connection to Peter was great. When Peter first rescued him, it was a little awkward, but Peter had saved his ass enough times for Abi not to question it anymore.
Pete chuckled. “It’s a perk.”
“And you have wisdom, remember.” Abi made air quotes when he said wisdom.
“Speaking of.” Peter’s expression grew serious, which meant he was going to get all fatherly on him. “You put yourself at risk by biting Colin.”
“Exposure endangers everyone. I know. I’m sorry.” Not sorry enough for Abi not to do it again. “He didn’t die.” That Abi knew of.
“Use your sassy tone on someone else. Like your new partner.” Peter, the slippery bastard, knew that the last sentence would land on Abi like a bomb.
Abi pulled away and stopped walking. “What new partner?”
Peter smirked. “Nash Drake is a Dragon Skull. He’s part of a motorcycle gang from a small dragon shifter town named Wingspan.”
“We met in the foyer.” Nash intrigued Abi even though he didn’t want to be.
“I know.” Peter smirked.
He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
Abi huffed. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“We both know the answer to that too.”
“He’s fake. Just like all the others.”
“Except…” Peter raised his eyebrows. “Something is different, Abi.”
“For how long will it be different? Two weeks. You know it. And I know it. And besides that, I am swearing off men.”
“So you don’t mind if Gunner goes on the job with him, then?”
Gunner was small and waifish. He had pointed ears, which he refused to hide with a glamour.
He was very cute. Very boy material, which was the only job he would ever take.
He’d even let himself get auctioned at a strip club once, which could have gone badly, but didn’t.
Gunner had been crazy enough to love every minute of getting in front of hundreds of people naked.
He was crazy enough to let things get out of hand before stopping it.
As innocent as he appeared with his big doe eyes, he was anything but.
Peter sending Gunner meant the job would most likely include sex play of some sort, which meant Gunner would play with Nash.
Abi sighed and pushed past Peter. “That’s a low blow, even for you, Peter.”
Abi stalked to Peter’s office and pulled open the door with enough force that there was no mistaking his anger. Mostly, he was mad at himself for falling for Peter’s manipulation tactics.
Peter’s office was a very masculine space, with dark wood and midnight-blue fabrics. Bookshelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling. Peter’s desk sat in front of large windows. Anyone trying to see in would experience nothing but shiny blackness instead of the back of Peter’s head.
Nash sat in a chair in front of the desk instead of the couch and chairs off to the left side of the room. Peter would see his choice as being respectful, which was a point in Nash’s favor.
Abi sat down in the chair next to Nash. He refused to meet Nash’s gaze. It was bad enough that Nash’s smell made his eyes ever-changing. The dizziness would have been worse had he not been sitting.
He must have done something to show discomfort, because Nash leaned toward him. “Are you alright?”
“Just fucking peachy.” As much as Abi didn’t want to like Nash, the concern was sweet. “Dizzy again.” It had felt as though it had never stopped. Nash didn’t need to know how Abi had stayed feet away. The walk with Peter was too short a reprieve.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Nash could turn down the job and walk away. Never encounter Abi again. Short of that, Abi was stuck with it.
Abi couldn’t help getting a peek at Nash out of the corner of his eye. Sexy fucker. He was a total Daddy too—very Abi’s type.
The thought of Nash leaving made Abi panic. He held back a whimper.
Nash straightened his shoulders when Peter rounded the desk and then sat beside it. The tension practically rolled off Nash.
Abi smirked at Peter when their gazes met. It seems your reputation is alive and well.
He’s definitely heard of me.
Abi chuckled.
Nash glanced his way with no small amount of concern. He probably wondered if Abi was certifiable.
Peter smiled in that fake way he did when he was around people who weren’t family. “Relax, Mr. Drake. We’re all friends here.”
Nash’s expression turned stoic.
“We’re a lot of things, but I wouldn’t call us friends.”
“Any friend of Jonik’s is a friend of mine.” Peter wasn’t giving up on Nash.
Peter’s game had started with Abi in the hall on the walk over. Nash was a player too, whether or not he liked it.
It didn’t sit right with Abi.
Peter glanced at him and smiled. Abi knew that look. It meant Peter knew something that Abi wouldn’t like. They already established what that was.
Abi rolled his eyes.
“Jonik is a Dragon Skull. That makes him family. You are not.” Nash not taking Peter’s bait was a surprise, and a pleasant one. It made him smarter than he seemed.
Peter’s smile was tight when he nodded, conceding the battle of wills. “I hope that will change in the future, Mr. Drake.”
Nash sighed. “You can start by calling me Nash.”
Nash had just extended a small olive branch to Peter. He might have given it with weariness, but it was still a step in the right direction.
Peter’s smile was genuine. “Shall we get started?”
Nash nodded. “Jonik briefed me on the job. I have to say, I don’t normally have a partner for these things, but in this case it’s needed.”
Peter handed Abi a folder. “Abi isn’t caught up on the details, so for that reason, I’ll go over it.”
Abi opened the folder to find a blueprint of a sporting arena. “This is for one of those underground slave fighting things, right?”
Abi had been on other missions where the primary objective included freeing as many slave fighters as possible. He’d never been to an arena as elaborate, though.
Abi’s usual assignments were preliminary. He’d gather intel, usually shifting into whatever creature he needed to stay undetected. But his job would be somewhat different this time.