Page 38 of King’s Kismet

“What exactly did you want to know?” She took that sweet, sarcastic tone that I adored—fuck—that I loved. “Clearly, I’m an open book for you.”

I hummed thoughtfully, mainly as a distraction. Then I focused my full attention on a skimpy, red… mesh-like thing that I was absolutely planning to rip off of her the moment she put it on.

If I kept the subject light, or not on me, then maybe she wouldn’t see me calming down after freaking the fuck out.

“He was being weirdly protective of you while you were out. I wanted to make sure you guys talked about that, but now I just want to see the full-length movie of your night.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to wait for that.” She took my dreams right out of my grasp as she tucked the red lace back into the drawer. “I need to go find Lucy and Papi. We have some planning to do.”

I covered my mouth, suddenly remembering why I was looking for her in the first place. “Lucifer is in the kitchen.”

She stared at me with wide eyes, her mouth slightly parted before she asked, “How long has he been there?”

“Mmm, about an hour, maybe more. How long do you think we’ve been in here?” I inquired, then shrugged, having no real idea how many minutes had passed since I’d been gone.

She gave me an are you fucking kidding? expression, so I tried to explain. “I actually came in here to get you. That’s why I was in the bathroom to begin with.”

“Fuck,” she mumbled, staring at the ceiling. “I hope he didn’t hear anything. I don’t think his hearing is that good, but…”

Oh, Trouble.

I grinned wickedly, replaying everything I’d heard with the images she’d shown me before I leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I heard you.”

Her curse echoed in my head, making me chuckle to myself.

“Gods-fucking-dammit.”

Murder about it Monday

Four months later…

I scattered bird seed across the grass, watching the pigeons peck aimlessly to find it. The mid-morning sun beamed down, heat soaking through my suit even as I sat on the park bench beneath the full silver maples.

This wasn’t my usual Monday routine, but then again... Since I had been hovering over my great-granddaughter, I hadn’t had much of a routine. She was the busiest person I had met in more than two millennia.

And she was why I was here in this park, suffering through the blistering southern heat.

Sloane didn’t know it, but someone had been following her. I wouldn’t bother her with the issue when she needed to be spending these first few months getting to know her mates.

This was one problem I could handle with no one’s knowledge.

It’s what I had done for much of my life... Hiding in the shadows, killing and stealing. I’d lived my younger centuries during a dangerous time to be supernatural. Though it didn’t quite compare to the cameras and technology of today.

Once upon a time, I could drag a man behind his outhouse and kill him in broad daylight, leaving his body on the ground for his neighbors to find.

Once upon a time, I sailed the seas on a massive ship, avoiding the plagues that took out my fellow sailors. I floated into a port on a ghost ship, terrifying the locals before I ravaged their town.

Once upon a time, I fought Spartans and Vikings and saw dynasties rise and fall... Witnessed the Great Wall of China being built... And the Egyptian desert before the pyramids.

I’d call those the good old days, but modern times had a special place in my ancient heart, too.

There was nothing more satisfying than a hot cup of coffee. Other than cars. You didn’t know the struggle until you had to walk across a country in the freezing winter with a shield strapped to your back and a sword at your waist in leather sandals and fur.

I much preferred this era. Though I didn’t love the weaponry.

A blade to the throat was more personal than a bullet to the head. I had killed in many ways, but death at the end of your dagger, staring you in the eye as they felt the reaper coming for them, was a glorious feeling.

The young man I was observing paced back and forth by the small lake, tugging at his hair as he furiously whispered into his phone. Ronald Caplin shouted obscenities at him until the call ended with one command.