She was sure she didn’t want to know the answer.
Aric sat listlessly on the sofa in his quarters, feet propped on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. On TV was a rerun of some reality show, the one where young twentysomethings went on dates that were set up by their “friends” to turn out horrible on purpose. Usually, he’d be laughing his ass off and munching on popcorn.
Tonight, he couldn’t dredge up a smile.
“And another when you arrived,” he whispered.
But that wasn’t fair to Rowan. She had no idea what was happening to him, and never would. He’d instruct Micah and Nick to give her some “official” story that he’d been killed by a Sluagh or something. God, how morose.
Rising, he walked to the living room window and stared into the night. He longed to run again, to just keep going forever, selfish asshole that he was. Rowan had that right. Otherwise, he would’ve made an attempt to actually listen to what she’d been trying to get into his thick skull. And he would’ve shown a lot more empathy for what she’d been forced to do.
Killing was never easy. The truth was, it sickened him to take a life. Any life, even one as dangerous and destructive as a Sluagh. Ironic, for a man who’d joined the SEALs and had been a part of a damned good team. He knew very well how Rowan must’ve felt, doing her job and wishing the outcome had been different.
He owed her an apology.
“Crap,” he muttered and stalked to the door.
Covering the short distance to her room in a matter of moments, he knocked loudly, just in case she’d gone to bed. He checked his watch. Ten? That wasn’t too late, but then again they’d had an eventful day. What with nearly being eaten and all.
He gave her about thirty seconds, which seemed like an eon, and knocked again. Nothing but silence met his summons and he frowned. Where the heck could she be?
Since it was way past dinner, the rec room was his next stop. Unfortunately, it was empty, too. Frustrated, he headed in the general direction of Nick’s office and the conference room. He briefly considered that something urgent might’ve come up and they hadn’t had time to grab him yet, then nixed that idea. If that had happened, Nick would’ve gotten on the newly repaired PA system.
At the end of the hallway, he spotted Ryon and Zan talking to Nick, and he relaxed a bit. At least the building wasn’t as deserted as it appeared.
“Please,” Ryon wheedled, sounding like a teenager. “If you come with us, it’ll make three, and that’s enough.”
Nick shook his head. “I said no groups smaller than four, and I’m not going to break my own rule. Besides, that would leave us with only Hammer, Jax, and A.J. in the building to fight if we had any unwelcome visitors.”
Ryon kept at his boss. “Kalen put that spell on the building, remember? It’ll be fine. Come on, Nicky, we haven’t gone into town in forever, and the others are already there. We’re missing out on the fun.”
The others? “Who went to town?” Aric asked, stopping next to the group and eyeing each of them.
Ryon answered, exasperated. “Kalen, Sariel, Mackenzie, and Rowan. They went to the Cross-eyed Grizzly to blow off some steam. Hard day and all.”
“And the way to reward yourself at the end of a ‘hard day’ is to get drunk and throw up,” Nick said drily, rolling his eyes. “I think Bill Cosby did a routine about that once.”
Zan snickered. “Lighten up, boss. Nobody’s gonna get drunk. Buzzed, maybe.”
“I have an idea.” Ryon brightened. “Aric can come with us, and that’s four. Problem solved.”
Aric held up a hand. “Man, I’m beat. I was just looking for Rowan to, um, say I’m sorry for being such a dick earlier.” He really didn’t feel like going out, as appealing as it sounded to be with Rowan in a casual, fun setting.
“Yeah?” His blond-haired friend got a decidedly evil look in his eyes. “I’d say she’s already forgotten all about you
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that she seemed pretty happy to be going out on the arm of a Fae prince who looks like a fuckin’ runway model, that’s all.” He shot Aric a grin.
The picture Ryon had painted made his wolf strain to shred something and his blood began a slow boil. Rowan and Sariel. Getting cozy at the Grizzly and drinking the night away. Oh, fuck no. That was not going to do.
Quickly, he checked his jeans, T-shirt, and shit-kickers. Not much, but he’d probably look better than the regulars. He doubted most of them bathed. “I’m in. Nicky?”
With a sigh, the boss relented. “I’ll go for a while, but I’m not staying all night.”
“Woo-hoo!” Ryon pumped his fist.
Aric tried to recall when he’d felt that young, and decided it had been before his stepfather and Beryl had invaded his life. Not something he wanted to think about.
“Hang on. How is Sariel able to be out at a bar?” he asked.
“Kalen helped him out with a cloaking spell.” Nick smiled. “You should see them. Those two look like brothers now.”
Aric tried to call that image to mind, and failed.
Outside, they piled into one of the SUVs with Nick behind the wheel and Aric in the front passenger seat. Ryon, Christ love him, kept the conversation lighthearted, chattering like a monkey on crack the entire way, as though trying to somehow compensate for the total steaming pile of dung the day had turned out to be.
His friend didn’t take a breath until Nick parked outside the Grizzly and shut off the ignition. By then Aric’s ears were ringing. Maybe his brain would hemorrhage and he wouldn’t have to sit in a bar full of stinky wannabe outdoorsmen for hours. But as soon as he went inside, he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky.
It took him about two seconds to spot the foursome against the far wall at a long table. They were laughing, having a great time, obviously doing their part to put the day behind them. Kalen and Sariel each had longnecks. Mac was sipping what looked like a margarita, and Rowan had two shots of gold liquid and lime wedges lined up in front of her. He wasn’t surprised to find she’d skipped the margarita and gone straight for the tequila.
As his group approached, Aric’s attention was drawn to Sariel. The prince took a drink of his beer, trying to emulate his male companion, and ended up choking.
Aric held back a snarl. Even with his wings hidden, his long hair disguised as jet-black, dressed in jeans and a form-fitting black button-down shirt, the male was too damned pretty. And way too sensual, leaning into Rowan’s attentions, like a cat arching for a nice petting.
The guy would have to find someone else to scratch his itch.
“Can’t hold your booze, huh, Sam?” Aric took the vacant seat next to Rowan. Nick, Zan, and Ryon took up open spots at the end.
Sariel’s smile of welcome turned puzzled. “Sam?”
He pointed to the bottle. “Nickname. I was teasing you.” Blank stare. “The beer you’re drinking is Sam Adams.”
“Oh! Yes, well…” Sariel’s nose wrinkled. “Kalen talked me into ordering this and it tastes horrible. I’m sure
“Want to try one?” Rowan asked. “They’re smooth and sweet, and taste like limeade. With a kick.”
The prince gave his enthusiastic approval and Rowan waved at the server. The girl hurried over, giving the men of their group an appreciative eye before taking their order. Sariel requested his margarita, but the rest, including Aric, went for beers. Zan helped himself to the Fae’s abandoned brew as a warm-up. Or cool-down. Whatever.
Looking around first to make sure nobody was listening, Aric addressed Nick. “Are we sure it’s safe for him to be out in public?” He gestured to Sariel. “Nice work with the disguise, but his kind can sense him.”
Kalen flashed him a look of irritation. “My spell will work. Why don’t we try to have a night out and relax for a change? We could all use the break.”
