“So, we could go now?”
“We could.” Lamont hesitated. “You mentioned your house last week. Did you want to go and check it out, perhaps pack some of your own clothes? Not that I have a problem zapping or buying anything you need. Or, you know” - Lamont winked - “you could keep wearing my clothes for the entire vacation.”
Ewen glanced down at the borrowed shirt that hung loose on his slimmer frame. “Your clothes are comfortable. I feel like I can get lost in them.”
“That’s because they’re too big for you. Although, I do like seeing you in them.” Lamont stood, offering his hand. “Come on. The hotel has my credit card on file, so we can check out. Let’s get your stuff, and then we’ll disappear to Greece for a month.”
“A whole month? I thought you said we were going for two weeks.”
“Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”
Realizing that he actually didn’t, Ewen took the offered hand and let Lamont pull him to his feet. “I did notice in all the news coverage over the past two days, The Times didn’t make a single comment about an article with my byline. I’d give anything to be a fly on the wall when the paper’s owners realize their own editor was basically paid off to shut me down.”
“I’d noticed.” Lamont nodded, his face grim. “Fuck The Times. They were too damn chicken to stand up for you or to even care when you went missing. You don’t owe them anything and I know I won’t be doing assignments for them again.”
“I know.” And he did. Louise’s phone call still stung, even though Ewen knew she’d been pressured or lied to, but there had been a time when Ewen considered her and his editor friends. “I’m just not sure what I’m going to do after this.”
“After Santorini, you mean?”
“After everything.” Ewen grabbed the laptop and then shook his head as he held it up. “I don’t even have a laptop of my own, since my last one was compromised, or a phone. Some journalist I am.” He shoved the laptop into its bag. “I’ve spent my whole adult life chasing stories, building a reputation, working my ass off. And now...”
“Now you’ve published the biggest exposé of the decade, and you’re independently wealthy because you’re mated to an ancient hellhound who’s had plenty of time to accumulate more assets than he knows what to do with.”
Lamont’s tone was gentle. “You can do whatever you want, Ewen. We’ll replace your laptop, and buy you a phone…and get you set up on the Zeus network so your calls and information sent online can’t be traced. But you don’t have to be a journalist if you’ve had enough of that. You could write a book, for real this time. Or freelance, like I do, taking on topics you’re passionate about. You could even start your own publication. Or, you know what could be really fun? Why don’t you take a year off and just exist for a while?”
Ewen knew what Lamont was doing, and he truly appreciated it. People would probably grab an opportunity like the one Lamont was offering him with both hands. But if anything, having so many options… “I’m not sure I know how to just exist.”
“Now that’s something I have a millennium’s worth of experience in.” Lamont stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We’ll take one step at a time. Step one, your house. Steptwo, Santorini and a beach that doesn’t have armed mercenaries or corrupt defense contractors anywhere near it.”
“Are you sure about that? Can you guarantee the beaches are mercenary free?” Ewen chuckled as Lamont wrinkled his nose.
“Surely Consort Ali wouldn’t have recommended the place if it wasn’t safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ewen stumbled slightly as his feet hit the hardwood floor of his living room. He assumed the translocation business would get easier in time. The room looked exactly as he’d left it, although it had been close to two months since he’d been there. There was a stack of books on the coffee table, the blanket draped over the couch was still rumpled from the last time he’d used it, and the framed photograph of his mother on the mantel was dusty but hadn’t been disturbed.
“They never came here,” Ewen said, as he looked around.
“They probably didn’t know where you lived.” Lamont moved through the living area clearly checking for threats. “You’re not listed in any public databases, and isn’t your lease is under an LLC?”
“It is. I was always a paranoid journalist.”
“With smart journalist habits.” Lamont disappeared into the kitchen.
Ewen walked slowly through the living room, trailing his fingers along the back of the couch. He tried to think of positive memories he’d had in his own living space, and yet nothing immediately came to mind. His fox stirred, recognizing his territory, but Ewen could tell his animal spirit was feeling the same disconnect he was. So much had happened. Lamont had happened. What had once been his den, his sanctuary from the world, now felt small and strangely empty.
“Your refrigerator has a situation,” Lamont called from the kitchen.
Ewen found his mate staring at the open fridge in disgust.
“Hey, I left in a hurry, and I had a lot on my mind at the time,” Ewen said defensively as the scent of something vile hit his nose.
“There’s something growing in here that might have achieved sentience.”
“I would’ve cleaned it out when I got back from Egypt.”
“Well.” Lamont clicked his fingers, and the offending containers vanished. “Problem solved.”