Page 53 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
“Do you think Monster’s presence has anything to do with that?” Spectre continued, and I just gave him a look. Maybe Monster had done something to speed up our recovery process. It was to his benefit anyway, wasn’t it?
He clearly wanted and needed more from me and my family than he had yet told us.
But I wasn’t stupid. My ex hadn’t just wandered into my life again by chance. This Witch Queen prophecy might be part of it, but there was always a catch when it came to Monster.
“Who knows?” I responded absently, opening my underwear drawer and snatching a pair of red and green holiday themed beauties that I knew Spectre enjoyed. He was big into American Christmas, the colors and the lights and the music. I imagined the reason was because vamp culture was about as far from that scene as could possibly be. He enjoyed the change in scenery, in décor, even if he didn’t believe in any of the myriad meanings behind the holiday.
I shook the red and green lace panties at him, and he smiled, watching as I dragged a long, black dress over my head and then had to pause with my hands on the dresser to catch my breath.
Normally, after a spell such as this, we’d be bedbound for weeks. Now, we were up and walking, but whatever miracle that Monster had worked, it wasn’t going to keep us from having vertigo spells or puking in the mornings.
“There is, um, something about Monster that I think I should say …”
“You better say it quick then because you’re freaking me the fuck out,” Caine growled, appearing behind me and wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I let out a small groan and leaned back into him, pausing as Argent came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, his hair shorn nearly to his scalp.
What exactly had happened during our brief separation in Hael, I wasn’t sure, but I already missed his long hair. As if he could sense the direction of my thoughts, Argent yanked open the small, worn, black corner cabinet and dug around for a moment. He emerged with a bottle in his silver hand and squeezed his fingers tight around it.
“I’ll be getting back in the shower to deal with this …” He choked off and pointed up at his hair as if the mere thought of having a military buzzcut had made him virtually suicidal. The fae were known for their vanity, their glamours, and their love of long hair. I’d yet to meet one with hair shorter than their waist; Argent’s real hair had only been shoulder-length, but he always kept it glamoured to at least his ass. “This monstrosity,” he repeated, “so please, continue. Whatever it is that he’s done, I best know it now, so that I can decide how to kill him later.”
“I’m assuming he didn’t touch you while you slept?” Spectre clarified, and I very carefully untangled myself from Caine, taking a step back from him and ignoring his nakedness, and the other two men’s shirtless forms with great effort.
I raked my fingers through my hair and stared at the floor. As if in sympathy, the house creaked and shifted along with me.
“He didn’t,” I agreed, biting my lower lip and trying to figure out a way to phrase this that wouldn’t cause them all to string the demon up from a tree out back. “But we met in my dreams; I was reliving memories there.”
“Memories of what.” Argent was not asking me. He was demanding the truth. I looked up and met his gaze for a brief moment before deciding that Spectre was the safest of the three to stare at.
“Memories of our first time. He … I think he visited me in my dreams.” I put both hands over my face and tried to breathe. He had. I knew he had. I’d invited him to stay anyway. I wanted to chalk it up to his magic or his aphrodisiac-laden skin, but that wasn’t the case, not in my dreams. At any point, I could’ve ejected him from that memory, and I didn’t.
I didn’t.
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Argent snarled out, and then he was turning and storming back into the bathroom. He slammed the door so hard that the house shuddered, and I found myself standing there facing Caine and Spectre and feeling like I’d done something very wrong here.
And I had.
I knew I had.
I hadn’t meant to.
In the dreamworld, I’d been conscious and consenting.
Now that I was awake, I was … confused.
“He took advantage of you,” Spectre breathed, gaze flicking over to Caine. The latter was staring at me like he’d just figured something out, but also like he didn’t like the very thing he’d just deduced.
“It wasn’t like that,” I said, because I knew how it might sound. Monster came to me in my dreams, and I’d allowed him in. I’d let him relive a memory with me, knowing that he was there in consciousness if not physicality. “Don’t look at it like that.”
