“Please. It doesnotwork like that.”
He looked at me incredulously for a moment before his smile turned mocking.
“Aww, have you never experienced a proper afterglow? That’s terribly unfortunate. We’re going to have to find you someone better in bed. Broaden your horizons.” he paused, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I could call in some favors.”
“Please shut up, Kier. It’s too early for this,” I groaned, head throbbing. I wasn’t sure if that was the hangover, or this pain in the ass friend of mine who always seemed to show up from the Shadows.
“Just tell me who it was so that I know who to avoid in the future,” he said with a smirk. “I do so loathe wasting my time on a bad lay.”
“I’m not sure if Mason even swings both ways,” I replied before immediately clapping my hand over my mouth.
“Mason, eh?” Kieran snickered. “And would that be his first name, or surname?”
Oh, godsdamnit.He could do way too much with that single scrap of information.
“Don’t you dare,” I hissed.
“What?” he asked, widening his eyes with feigned innocence.
“Leave that poor man alone,” I warned. “I mean it, Kieran. It’s one thing to stalk me, but leave my one-night stands alone.”
“Sure, sure,” he replied, still smirking. “So what are your plans after the exams?”
“Round two, of course. Laurel and I are going to hit The Clover again for some music and dancing,” I explained.
“And booze, I’d presume,” Kieran added.
“Naturally. Their honey whiskey is divine.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Little Conduit,” he said.
“You know, I’m not sure that really narrows anything down, Kieran.”
His oddly sharp incisors gleamed as he gave me a wicked grin, popping another grape in his mouth before winking.
“Exactly.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Kieran
I had no godsdamned right to be jealous, and I knew it.
That hadn’t stopped the foul cloud of envy and resentment from following me all the way back to headquarters that morning. I had other important matters to focus on today, but those marks he’d left on her neck…
It was my turn to blow off some steam.
I made my way over to one of several training rooms, where we had rows of striking dummies, exercise equipment, and racks of practice weaponry, intentionally kept dull to avoid having our recruits maim each other. That said, I preferred to practice with my own weapons.
I felt more like myself with the Scáthic daggers in hand. Whether that was because of their origin—or despite it—I didn’tknow, and quite frankly, I didn’t care to explore the matter. All I knew was that they were perfectly balanced blades, and I had carried them with me for so long that the weapons felt like an extension of my own arms when I wielded them. My blind eye put me at a disadvantage in battle, but my Shadows and my daggers tipped the scales back in my favor.
Strike.
Straw sprayed off the side of the striking dummy as I ran myself through drills in my head, trying to recalibrate my peace of mind.
Parry.
I wondered if she’d see him again tonight. Mason, whoever the fuck that was, was a lucky bastard. If she’d met him while out with Laurel last night, what were the odds he’d be joining them at The Clover tonight?