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"Can I stop you?" I replied.
"No," he said with no hesitation.
I sighed and glanced around the deepening shadows. Even as we stepped inside, I had a feeling we were watched.
7
Viva
"You have everything?"Zophia reclined on the couch under a window, steaming cup in hand.
Even from across the room, the smell of coffee made my mouth water. She nodded toward my bag, then sipped from the power-infused cup.
Black, like a lot of witch china, it could be a year old, or a hundred years. It reminded me of my mother. That gave me a rare pang of homesickness. Where would I be right now if I was a regular witch, like the rest of them?
Hades chose Max Crane, the Covener's son, as my mate. If I had been raised differently, and accepted by the other witches, I might have been happy about that. We could be married right now and working on popping out a brood of bigoted, shifter-hating assholes. Comus would still be locked away, or someone else would have helped to free him. Either way, it wouldn't be my problem.
Truthfully, I couldn't imagine a universe in which I didn't hate Max Crane. He was the epitome of witch entitlement. The only thing worse was old-witch entitlement, but he'd grow into that soon enough, with his father's guidance.
"I think so," I said. "I don't want to take too much. We'll only be gone for a few days." I pulled a blouse out of the wardrobe and frowned at it. It was a stunning shade of red, but I'd never seen it before. Same with the next three. That was what happened though. When the maids washed my clothes and returned them, they left others as well. Chosen, no doubt, by Dex. When and how, I don't know. Maybe he could access just enough internet to make some online purchases. If so, I wanted in on that when I got back. He had impeccable taste, I had to admit.
I gasped out loud when I found a new, black leather jacket hanging at the end of the wardrobe.
I yanked it out and looked for a price tag. There wasn't one. Of course not, that would be tacky.
I slipped it on and looked at myself in the mirror. It fit perfectly, and hung at just the right length to accentuate my ass.
"Will you be taking that?" Zophia asked languidly. "Because if you don't, I could break it in for you."
I put my arms around myself and hugged the jacket protectively. "Not a chance. You should get one like it, it would suit you."
She tucked her feet up under her. "I need to get myself a wealthy benefactor to buy me these things."
I made a face. I didn't ask for any of these gifts. I wasn't even sleeping with Dex, or doing anything other than being my usual, awesome self.
"Aren't you already rich?" I asked. Her mother ran some kind of clothing empire and Zophia helped run a big part of it. Come to think of it, maybe that was where the clothes came from.
"Not as rich as Dex," Zophia replied. "Last time anyone looked, he was worth billions."
"That would explain how he can afford to pay everyone here," I said dryly. The residents must pay taxes or something, or he wouldn't be rich for very long. "Still, this jacket can't be worth that much. It's not like it's made of dragon hide."
Zophia raised her eyebrows.
I looked down at a sleeve. "Really?" It looked like any other leather, but was buttery soft, with the delicious smell of vegetable tanner that made me close my eyes and inhale more deeply. For such an evocative smell, it gave me no power at all, no even a drop. It didn't block me like bad odours, it just—was.
Zophia shrugged. "Possibly. People are known for bringing one down from time to time. There's no point in letting that go to waste."
At this point, I didn't know what to think. It could be made of regular old cow hide, as far as I knew. It didn't matter. The jacket was gorgeous and the animal it came from was dead. If I got the chance, I'd ask Dex about it. And thank him.
I might even get up the nerve to tell him he should stop giving me things. I had a feeling he did it because doing it made him happy. I didn't want to throw that back in his face.
He might also be doing it to keep me on his side. In which case—I admired the jacket again—it was working.
"You know, other women would be asking for jewellery by now," Zophia said.
I snorted. "What would I do with jewellery?"
"Wear it?" she suggested.
