Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(89)
Author: Richelle Mead

It wouldn’t be my first, Justin replied.

A check in the mirror showed he was presentable. His clothes were neat and unwrinkled. Every hair was in place. He didn’t even look that drunk.

He could feel the ravens’ incredulity at that last thought.

He double-checked Mae’s address and then caught the purple line downtown. A transfer took him out to her neighborhood, an older but upscale district with well-established trees and pretty brick buildings. Mae lived in a town house with cherry trees out front, and he paused to admire it as he stood outside. It wasn’t quite as sleek as his last apartment had been, but it was still the kind of place he should’ve ended up in, rather than his sister’s house. He really needed to fix that and move to the city.

He braced himself as he went up the stairs, trying to stay cool in the flood of anxiety and eagerness filling him. He still didn’t know what he was going to say, but if he talked to her, they could fix things. He needed to make sense of all of this, to understand why—

“Hello?”

A strange man opened the door. He only wore jeans, showing off a bodybuilder’s chest. He had sandy-colored hair that looked damp from recent washing. After a few initial moments of shock, Justin decided that he must have the wrong place.

“I—I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

The man gave him an easy smile, and Justin realized he wasn’t a stranger after all. He was one of the prætorians from the senate. “You looking for Kosk—er, Mae?”

Justin could only give a mute nod.

“Come in, and I’ll get her.” The guy stepped aside. “She just got out of the shower.”

CHAPTER 24

THERAPY

Mae hadn’t expected to get as much amusement as she had out of Justin’s treatment of Tessa’s poor date. Maybe after everything that had happened in Mazatlán, that little bit of comic relief was what she needed. It didn’t change Mae’s overall mood, of course. She was still reeling from everything that had happened, still trying to find a way to process the unimaginable: that a man she’d come to respect—despite how infuriating he was at times—was being driven by delusions of the very thing he was supposed to be fighting against.

As she started to climb the steps to her town house, she remembered a message that had come to her ego about a package that had arrived for her. She changed course and walked to the building next door, where her landlord lived. His lobby held all the tenant mailboxes on that block, as well as larger compartments for packages. Kneeling down, Mae located the one indicated and scanned her ego over the digital lock. The door clicked open, and she found a bouquet of long-stemmed white roses, their petals delicately edged in pink. She picked them up in surprise, searched for a card that wasn’t there, and headed back to her home.

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had sent her flowers. Maybe some love-struck former soldier from back before she’d joined the prætorians? Porfirio hadn’t been much for gestures like these. Sure, he went for the dramatic sometimes, but it would be things like a candlelit bedroom, the kind of act that usually resulted immediately in sex. For half a second, she wondered if they were from Justin as a sort of Sorry for completely deceiving you about my involvement in illicit religions apology. But no. The flowers had arrived while they were traveling to Mazatlán.

She put them in a vase and received an answer far more quickly than expected when her ego rang with a call. The display showed a shocking name, and she switched the call over to her living room screen. Lucian Darling’s smiling face appeared, as handsome and polished as anything she’d find at a press conference.

“Senator,” she said in greeting. “I figured you’d forgotten about me.”

His grin widened. “Impossible. Just been caught up in the whirlwind of campaigning. Not that that’s an excuse.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s actually kind of a good one, what with you preparing to lead the country and all that.”

“Does that mean you’ll urge your representative to vote for me?”

She laughed and settled onto the couch. “Sure.”

“Then I’m one step closer. Was it the roses that won you over?”

“No, but thank you.” Despite all the ease and charm he radiated, she felt a little flustered by the gesture. It kicked his flirting from their first meeting up a notch, something she wasn’t sure she wanted. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did. I needed to secure your vote. That, and I was hoping I could get you out for a late dinner.”

The unexpected just kept coming. “Tonight?”

“Sorry about the short notice.” Something in his manner made her think he wasn’t that sorry, that he still figured she’d jump at the chance. He and Justin weren’t that different after all. “An event just got canceled, so I’m homebound in Vancouver for the night and thought you might like to come over. Don’t read that as presumption,” he added. “It’s more for convenience. I’d gladly take you out somewhere, but I don’t think you’d like the attention.”

“Probably not,” she said in agreement. Remembering Justin’s observations about the political fallout of a plebeian senator dating a castal, Mae knew Lucian wouldn’t like the attention either.

“Fortunately for you, I can cook the kind of steak most people only dream of. You’ll be a believer.” That smile was in overdrive now as he waited for her response.

“That’s sweet. And flattering,” she said honestly. “But I literally just walked in after a long trip and don’t think I’m up to getting out.” Or navigating the treacherous waters of this sort of liaison. “I’m sorry. But thank you.”

His face fell only a little. Undaunted, he asked, “I’m out of town tomorrow but back the next day. How’s Monday night work for you?”

She shook her head. “I’m out of town. Justin and I are going to be out at the Nordic land grant.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Taking him home to meet the parents?”

“Business,” she said, shuddering at the thought of unleashing him on her family.

“Well, that reminds me…I also called because I’ve got an answer—sort of—to Justin’s question about servitor hiring.”

She’d nearly forgotten about that. “Why not call him?”

“I’d rather talk to you. Besides, he’d give me grief about not having much that’s conclusive.”