“I’ll be right there,” Midas yelled back, then kissed my forehead. “Stay put.”
Threat or promise, I couldn’t tell, but I was tempted enough to do as he asked. For now.
Wedging his body in the gap, Midas opened the door. “How are they?”
“They’re in ICU,” Ford growled. “The drug they snorted collapsed their lungs.”
“Let me get dressed.” Midas took a step inside the cabin. “I’ll go with you to see their families.”
“I have something to say.” Ford pushed open the door, his gaze landing on me. “To both of you.”
Just as before, Midas allowed Ford to run roughshod over him. Over us. And my stomach cramped.
The certainty Midas was about to resume his game of hot Hadley potato with Ford made me ill.
“You’re my friend,” Midas said, squaring off with him, “but you need to get out.”
A slow inhale glided into a long exhale, and Ford glanced between us. Rather than leave, he spoke.
“I came to let you both know I’ll be transferring to the Buckhead pack for the next six months.” He let a shrug roll through his shoulders. “I wanted to do it in person.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Your momma told me what to expect when I got out here, but I’m still having trouble.”
Ford didn’t specify if it was me trouble or Martian Roach trouble, but I could guess which bothered him.
“It’s not you.” He stared right at me, as if he had plucked the thought out of my head. “It’s me.”
The line was designed for a laugh, and I gave him one, but it hurt. “How are you feeling?”
“Not right.” He lifted his tee, revealing a mass of scabbing. “I wake up scratching. There’s this itch under my skin I can’t get to, and it’s always there.” He yanked it down again. “I can ignore it during the day, but I can’t help what I do when I sleep.”
Ford was an easygoing guy who didn’t let much rile him. Right after Natisha healed him, he came to me. He wanted a goodbye kiss, which I gave him on the cheek, and we parted on what I considered amicable terms.
In the process of avoiding him at the Faraday so as not to rub Midas’s new living situation in his face, I had failed my friend. A healthy dose of ego and remorse had prevented me from seeing that until now.
The offer turned my blood to ice in my veins, but I made it. “Do you need Natisha?”
“I’m healed in here.” He pointed to the center of his chest. “It’s here that’s giving me fits.” He knocked on his forehead. “I have a few cousins in Buckhead. I’m going to room with them. See if a change of scenery helps.”
“Call if you need anything.” Midas stuck out his hand and shook Ford’s. “We’re here for you.”
“I know.” He yanked Midas into a manful hug then turned him loose. “I appreciate it.”
Uncertain if an embrace from me would be welcome, I kept my spot on the bed. “We’ll miss you.”
“Maybe somewhere down the line we can Skype a movie night.” He didn’t approach me, and I wasn’t certain if it was for his sake or Midas’s that he avoided me. “Just…stay safe.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised him. “You too.”
Without warning, Midas slugged Ford, and Ford hit the floor on his butt.
“What the actual hell?” I leapt to my feet. “Midas, what is wrong with you?”
Ford waved me off, so yeah, he didn’t want to touch me. Or he wanted to avoid round two with Midas.
Goddess, gwyllgi males made my head throb with all their posturing.
“Good for you.” He smiled at Midas, his lip smeared with crimson. “Guess you figured out what you want after all.”
“Yeah.” Midas locked gazes with me. “I did.”
“I’m going to brush my teeth.” I swept into the bathroom then paused to glance over my shoulder. “When I get back, I expect you both to have finished punching each other.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ford got to his feet. “I’ll do my best not to ruin his toothpaste-commercial smile.”
“I would appreciate that.” I shut the door and left the men to sort themselves out, but I pulled up short at the sink when I noticed Ambrose sitting on its edge. “What do you want?”
The shadow swung his legs and stared at me.
“I don’t get it.” I kept my voice soft. “What is it?”
He pointed at my chest and then at his.
“Not helping.”
He pointed at my chest and then his and then the door.
“We’re leaving in five minutes.” I gave up on him. “Don’t get ants in your pants.”
An involuntary shudder rippled through me.
Ugh.
Ants.
Heaving a sigh with lungs he didn’t have, Ambrose hopped down and gave me room to brush my teeth with the individually wrapped supplies I located under the sink. The vacation from reality had been nice, but it was time to get back to the city.
An incoming call from Bishop coaxed a sigh out of me, so I answered while I flossed. “Yesh?”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere you’re not.”
“I get the sense you’re miffed about Blithe.”
“Miffed?” I cheesed for the mirror, checking my teeth. “Who says miffed anymore?”
“You’re pissed I shut you out. That better?”
Just to annoy him, I made chomping noises.
“Kid, I would apologize, but I’m not sorry. Blithe is bad news, and her club is the epicenter of this mess.”
“What’s your deal with her?”
“I have no deal with her, and that’s the problem. She wants to marry me off to her son. Forge an alliance. Seize control of the city. Crush other species under her boot. That kind of thing.”
“That sounds like something you should have told me before now.” I tossed the floss. “It’s the coven’s MO, minus the marrying-you bit.” I searched the far corners of my brain but came up empty. “I didn’t realize you had a thing for guys too.”
More than once, he had dated women. Nothing serious. Just fun and done. Maybe guys had been in the mix too. It’s not
