“Can you blame him? You scolded him within an inch of his life.”
“He deserved it,” Otto mumbles, good mood forgotten. “Anyway, I need my beauty rest now. See you in an hour.”
I wave him off before turning the light out and taking my glasses off.
It doesn’t seem like it now, but I know that when tomorrow comes, our lives will never be the same again.
CHAPTER 6
Astern
The morning comes entirely too soon–probably because Quinn and I crawled into our hotel beds at half past four. After getting back, we’d both taken showers and passed the fuck out. I could still use ten more hours of sleep, but it’s not like I’m not used to being sleep deprived. And when my alarm finally goes off at seven, Quinn is hovering over the side of my bed with a takeaway cup of hotel coffee and a bagel.
“I love you,” I mumble, taking them from her as I sit up.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” she asks, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You looked like you were properly shagged.”
“Which ‘him’ are you referring to?” I ask, taking large bites of the bagel.
Her mouth pops open. “You cheeky trollop! Do tell,” she says, sitting down on the end of the bed. I open and close my mouth, unsure how much of it was real. My head is still swirling with alcohol and lack of sleep.
“I had sex with all of them. At once.”
“Good for you,” she says quickly. “I shagged the tall redhead and his cock was the size of a pencil, so I’m not jealous at all.”
We both burst out laughing, and despite only knowing her for a day, I have a feeling that Quinn and I are going to be fast friends.
At half past seven, we carry our overnight bags into the lobby, waiting for the car that Alaric Cross promised would show up to collect us. Lord AlaricbloodyCross. The name sent shivers down my spine–as it did for most people who knew about the Lords.
However, it caused me anxiety for an entirely different reason.
My new job is part-intelligence, part-computer science, and part-espionage. The Lords of Darkness have been modernized over the last few years, so instead of the ritualistic rites and blood oaths of the middle ages, it’s now modern and technological. And I’m taking over that entire branch–something Lord Theodore Wolf had been doing before me.
Surveillance and security are my specialties. Over the last few years, I’d acquired a double master’s degree in Criminology and Computer Science with a bachelor’s degree in Music History. Even though I hadn’t played in over a decade, I still enjoyed learning about classical music. And before getting this job, I’d begun master level classes in Arabic, Spanish, and French. Most recently, I worked freelance as a computer hacker for insidious people on the dark web.
As I recall the thorough interview process, I remember Lord Wolf commenting that I was likelyoverqualified.
That’s because I’ve spent ten years trying to get here.
There would be six months of training first. Our belongings had already been sent to the manor we’d all be staying at to get to know each other and begin training–a grueling process, from what I’d heard. Fortunately, I had Quinn. And luck was on our side because I still ran five miles every day, meaning the physical aspect should be a breeze. The mental gymnastics would be interesting, but I hoped that my dedication would see me through it.It had to.
I could do this.
I wouldn’t let my parents down.
A black car pulls up to the curb, and Quinn gives me an excited smirk before she opens the door. We’d talked a bit yesterday on the way to the club, bonding over our shared Criminology backgrounds. Together, we make a formidable pair.
Ruthless. Hard-working. Smart. Capable.
When I sit down, I wince slightly, and Quinn snorts as we start the hour drive to Blackwell. She berates me with questions, and I give her answers, growing hot all over again at the way they all commanded me, at the way they called mepetanddarlingandgood girl.I cross my legs and squeeze my thighs together when I recount how they wanted to watch their seed drip out, and Quinn gasps, agreeing that the whole breeding kink thing is hot. When I ask abouthernight, she tells me all about the terrible sex she had, and we laugh some more.
Recounting it makes me regret leaving Otto’s number on the foyer table. Then again, I don’t have time to get involved in whatever last night was.
I need to see last night for what it was: a last hurrah before my life turns into complete chaos.
As we pull up to an old house on the outskirts of Blackwell, Quinn lets out a low whistle.Thorn Manor.It’s enormous–at least four stories, wide, with arched windows and dark red brick. It doesn’t surprise me. If you’re wealthy and you live in England,chances are you live in London or Blackwell. I’m sure there were numerous manors to choose from when appointing us housing.
Lord Gideon St. Claire walks out of the house, wearing a black denim jacket and dark grey trousers. His newly cut, dirty-blond hair hangs off to one side, and he quirks an eyebrow once Quinn and I exit the car.
