Page 85 of Hybrid Heroics

“I need to know what it is to cook it, Barbie,” I kindly pointed out.

“Just…” She floundered, slinging her arms around. “Cook it like pork.”

“Like pork?” I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck is it?”

She mimed zipping her lips and tossing the key over her shoulder. I rolled my eyes, placing the mystery meat in the fridge.

“If you don’t tell me what it is, then you’re cooking it.”

“I’ll burn it,” she protested. “And I can’t get any more if I fuck it up.”

I crossed my arms, suspicion growing, the new secrets gnawing at me. “Then tell me what it is.”

“How about a blowjob, and we call it even?”

“I’m not trying to barter with you.”

She shrugged. “Then don’t.”

“Then I won’t.”

“Do you really want to know?” she inquired, studying my reaction.

“No,” I answered, knowing it wasn’t fucking pork. “But I kind of need to in order to cook it.”

“I doubt there’s a recipe for that in any cookbooks you can get your hands on, though there may be one in the library… In the culty stuff.”

I raised a stiff brow at her, waiting her out.

“If I tell you, you’ll get pissy. I’d rather keep it to myself until… Later.”

“Barbie,” I growled. “Why the fuck are you hiding so much from us right now?”

She rolled her shoulders back, meeting me head on. “I have to keep some things a secret until I know he’s dead, Briggs. Don’t take it out on me like this. I know I’m hiding things, and I don’t want to. But if he’s still in my head, then he’ll know my plan. And if he knows that, then I might not walk away. That’s not something I’m willing to chance.”

I backed her into the counter, my hands on either side of her as I gazed down into her prismatic eyes. “I’m not asking for you to change or for perfection of any kind. Keep your secrets, but tell me why they’re secrets instead of circling around that truth, Barbie. I only want you to come out of this fight alive. Now that I’ve got you, I won’t live without you.”

“I will,” she promised, then grinned, changing the subject. “I’ve only seen five futures in which I lose… And one of them happens because you refused to fuck in the pantry.”

Whatever was happening inside her twisted, mercurial mind was something she didn’t want found out by her enemy. I understood, but I wasn’t finished with this conversation. And I didn’t give a fuck if Alric heard me.

“Oh, really?” I rumbled, moving my hands to her hips.

She nodded solemnly. “It was a devastating turn of events.”

I spun, pulling her between my legs as I leaned against the counter. “And what about the visions where I do fuck you in the pantry?”

“Well,” she sang, gripping my shirt as she walked backward. “In one of them, we knocked the shelves down. It was a big mess. And in another, we were actually in the basement. You know, with it being soundproof, and all the extra people in the house. That one made the most sense. And in another, Amelia walked in right as we finished.”

“Which one are you hoping for?”

She smirked, her eyes hooded as she bit the corner of her lip. “The one where you make me scream your name, and I tear your back up as I cum all over you.”

I leaned my head back and groaned.

“You do that too,” she murmured, dragging me toward the pantry.

I stopped her before we rounded the kitchen island. “How much do you like this dress?”