King Tomb (Page 38)

“I take my coffee black,” Ezra stated directly behind me, his hands suddenly on my h*ps — I hadn’t even felt the brush of a breeze as he used his speed to move across the room so quickly — startling me so bad I almost dropped my cup. He bent, using his chin to brush back my hair, and placed a gentle kiss at my throat where his fangs had been earlier. He didn’t apologize, not that I expected him to, but I was kind of learning that his actions spoke for him, which if I was honest with myself, was more commendable than most people with their false request for forgiveness. As I poured the cups, he squeezed my hips, kissing my neck once more — how many times had he held his fangs there? — and murmured quietly, “Just so you know, in the future, I’m a hell of an ass in the mornings, like you are in the evenings, so you may want to give me a heads up if you think I’ll react badly to something in the early hours.”

He stepped back, putting the proper space between us as I turned and placed the cups on the bar. I bent, peering into the mini-fridge, trying to find the cream I had put back in there only an hour ago. “I’m still upset at you for taking a Shifter without my consent.”

He chuckled quietly. “I somehow doubt you would have consented to me harming him.”

I finally spotted the cream and grabbed it, straightening to pour some into my cup. “So that’s how this works between you and me in the future? You don’t tell me if you don’t think it’ll work out to your benefit?”

He sipped his coffee, leaning toward me on the bar, and sadly, I did notice how his biceps and pecs bulged under his t-shirt. “This situation was completely different than normal business matters and you know it.” When I only stared at him, he stated, “All right, I won’t jump to conclusions in the future and hurt a Shifter without speaking to you first.” A pause. “Unless I find him in your bed.” A sip of his coffee as he shrugged one shoulder. “That man will be dead, no questions asked.”

Unbidden, a chuckle escaped, and I shook my head. “Un-freaking-believable.”

His lips lifted cockily on one side as I stirred sugar in my cup, and he took another sip of his drink. “I’m going for brutal honesty here. Take it or leave it.”

I sighed, finally taking a sip of my own drink. “I’ll take the honesty.” I shrugged, realizing I really was parched thanks to our little bout a few minutes ago, and took another larger drink. “And really, I can’t say I would do any differently if I found someone in your bed.”

He toasted his coffee cup against mine. “We should celebrate. We each married a sadistic killer.” His head tilted toward Isa as we drank our coffee. “I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard she ends up with.”

My smile was just as feral as John’s had been earlier. “Imagine the poor schmuck’s face when he finds out not only who both her parents are, because she will eventually tell him, but who her grandparents are.”

Ezra almost spit his coffee out and slammed a fist against his chest, even as he chuckled hard. “Fuck, maybe I should feel sorry for…” He stopped abruptly then shook his head. “Nope, not happening.”

I nodded once, finishing my coffee. “Damn straight.”

Isa was with Bindi, her normal babysitter, and I hadn’t bothered buttoning my black, fur coat against the chill in the morning air, just enjoying being able to feel it. The whiteness of the mist hovering around me fit with my soul after last night’s revelations — a bit of light in my dark with the knowledge of the truth.

Now, two hours later after my morning ‘meeting’ with Ezra, I walked through the black tent’s flap of headquarters, and I headed to the left to make myself coffee, their headquarters — probably all headquarters — fashioned the same way. Actually tasting the liquid’s warmth, I moved through the information and computer center to the conference room in the far back. Everyone was already there except for King Zeller, and after hanging up my coat, I sat down, placing my duffle on the table without a word. I took a file handed to me by Elder Merrick, who was watching me closely. I was used to the expression from many others, and I had constructed my cold wall beautifully the past year, keeping everyone out. I realized hiding behind it was second nature to me and I was doing it now. Not really bothered by this, and seeing no reason to alter the person I had become, I rested my boots on the table, reclined on the leather seat, placed the file on my lap, and opened it to begin reading about King Shadow’s itinerary — our game plan here for the war.

Elder Merrick resituated himself next to me, turning so he was facing me. “I heard some interesting news this morning regarding a Shifter…Mr John Smith.”

Ah. “Yes, I was aware of the situation.” I had spent the previous fifteen minutes diffusing a slight uprising from a few Shifters who had seen King Zeller…well, ‘brutally bashing John’s head in’ and ‘unfairly slapping him in silver cuffs’ by their accounts. And I had called John to make sure he was okay, which he was, if slightly confused and irate at being ambushed and held as he had been. I wasn’t positive he had believed the bogus ‘mistaken identity’ excuse I had given him, but he hadn’t pushed for any further explanation. “It’s been handled.”

Elder Merrick’s eyebrows quirked. “You may want to talk with King Zeller about his lack of control and discretion.”

“Like I said, it’s been handled,” I stated bluntly, not appreciating his input.

“What’s been handled?” King Zeller’s voice rumbled behind us as he moved past the tent flap of the conference room no longer dressed in workout clothes, but in — yeah, I stared — his dark silver robe, a silk, sapphire blue billowy shirt, and…oh, God…black leather pants. Year-long iced control kept me from ogling him, but I did peek over when he turned to take his robe off, hanging it next to the other coats.

My mind…just…went blank.

Well, not exactly blank. More like a zillion naughty ideas flew through my mind in rapid fire, like a reel going so fast I just kind of zoned out as my peek turned into a flat out stare of his ass. I had never checked it out before, but the me of the present most definitely agreed with the me of the past.

His ass in leather was absolutely God’s finest work.

Fucking hell, that was just…yummy.

“Um…” I tried to speak, unsuccessful in remembering what he had asked as he hooked his robe on the old-fashioned claw. “What did you ask?”