The Phoenix merely twittered at him and shook ash onto the white cloth.
“Kinda messy, aren’t they?” Aria noted as she stroked Mai.
“Yeah. Betsy’ll have my hide.” He reached for the Phoenix, but it chittered at him and hopped away.
“Oh, good grief.” Lucas rose and plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, carved it in half, and offered a piece to the bird.
She made a “churling” sound and tilted her head at him.
“She’s all out of kumquats, Sparkle. It’s the best I can do.”
Aria’s eyes widened when the bird ruffled its wings and pecked at the apple.
“Hey, message first,” Lucas protested.
Sparkle heaved the phoenix equivalent of a sigh and angled her head away so Lucas could pluck the message from its tube.
“Your texting seems like a lot less trouble,” Aria noted while taking a big bite of bagel.
“No kidding.” Lucas unrolled the note. His dark brows drew down, and to her shock, the spiky hair on the top of his head stiffened, like a dog’s hackles standing on end.
The Morph’s mouth pulled straight as he put the lid back on the tube and grabbed another bagel from the bag, shoving it into the toaster.
Aria glanced at the abandoned one on the table and raised a brow.
“My friend’s moved the meeting up,” Lucas’s voice was almost a growl. “And he’s coming here.”
Aria stopped chewing and swallowed. “Is that a good idea?”
Lucas tilted his head as he peered through the toaster oven’s window. His entire body appeared to be tight as a drum. “No. He’s met me here before. But you weren’t here, then.”
Aria was puzzled about that. Why would her presence make any difference?
When she remained silent, Lucas glanced at her. “He wants to meet you, I’m sure. Hopefully, we’ll keep him on task. Unless I can convince you to move upstairs while he’s here?”
Aria considered. “Not likely, no.”
A muscle jumped in Lucas’s cheek as he returned to observing the bagel’s progress. “Yeah. Just don’t breathe too deep.”
Now she was really confused. “He stinks?”
“Stink isn’t the operative word.”
Before she could achieve any clarity on the subject, someone knocked on the back door. Sparkle paused in her consumption of apple to chirp in the door’s general direction. A significant pile of ash had now adorned the table.
Aria moved her bagel a little farther away as Lucas answered the door. Lucas’s tension made her very curious about this visitor, but she shifted in her chair so that the tail spike hanging from her hip was within easy reach. It was now so depleted it would likely only last a single strike, but it would be enough if she made it count.
At first, the man entering did little to warrant Lucas’s concern. He was of middling height and slim, with rather intense, dark eyes framed with bushy brown brows that matched a remarkable head of hair. With the reduced crystal in her blood, she couldn’t get a read on him at all. Compelling as those eyes might be, she didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
Then his scent hit her. It flooded through her, igniting her senses. Aria found herself leaning toward him, her gaze traveling lower—and she knew.
“You’re a Satyr,” she accused, forcing herself to lean away again.
“Yes, my beautiful one,” the man purred the words, and her body responded. Which it shouldn’t have, as Dragons were supposed to be immune to such things. “You must be the reason for the herbs I procured?”
“Jacques, cut it out,” snapped Lucas.
“I am merely saying hello to a beautifulmademoiselle,” protested Jacques. “No harm in that.”
