leaned back in his chair, and probed, “So?”
I didn’t care about manners at this point. I spoke as I chewed a bite of my own chicken sandwich and chips. “This was supposed to be part of the Game. We’re supposed to be training for situations like this, not handling them right now.”
Lucifer muttered around a mouthful, “Those guys were pros.”
General Finley smiled then. “You have nothing to say about the actual work? No squeamish worries? No blushing modesty?”
Lucifer snorted.
I asked dryly, “Did it look like we had a problem with that?”
General Finley relaxed. “No. Not at all. You were both very good. You could have any job in a sex club.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re flattered, but we’re booked.” I pushed the black cards across the small table, in his direction, and explained what we had learned.
I dropped onto the bed, groaning, my feet barking. I stared up at the ceiling as I munched on my chips and curled and uncurled my toes. Christ, my feet hurt something fierce. Whoever the hell invented stilettos deserved to be shot. My ankles were actually swollen.
Suddenly, strong hands held my feet, kneading into the soreness. I groaned loud and long. It hurt at first, but Lucifer knew what he was doing.
My eyelids drooped.
Ah.
General Finley cleared his throat delicately. “Shall I come back later? Give you two some privacy?”
Lucifer and I flipped him off at the same time.
General Finley’s lips twitched.
I questioned, “So, what the hell happened to the Game?”
General Finley shrugged. “The opportunity presented itself. It was dumb luck they were there tonight and a credit to you both that you managed to attract their attention so quickly. They’re on our watch list for a smallish ring here in Terlant.
“You obviously can’t go in yet,” I seriously pouted at that, “but we can send in someone with the information we’ve garnered tonight.” He paused. “Or today. Whatever time it was. I’m just happy you two found one another. You make an excellent team. I would never take the risk of you being placed with someone you don’t know.”
I agreed, “Lucifer and I get each other.”
Lucifer just yawned and laid his head down by my feet. He still massaged them, his fingers digging in, but his efforts were getting weaker and slower. His yawn was contagious, and I followed suit, my lids dropping.
He mumbled, “Where’s Kingsley?”
“In my room. Sleeping on my pillow.”
Lucifer chuckled.
General Finley blew out the candles and left the room on silent feet.
I woke up to a rooster crowing. My face was smashed against something hard and smooth and warm, and something else that crunched and smelled of BBQ. I wiped the drool from my mouth and opened my eyes. I was still on Lucifer’s bed. I had used his foot and a sack of chips as a pillow.
He groaned from the other end of the mattress. “Clean the damn drool off my foot. It’s making me need to pee more.”
I quickly used my shirt to wipe my spit off his foot. Then I picked chips out of my hair as I sat up.
He rolled over. His sleepy eyes stared up at me. I was sure I was a sight, my ponytail listing off to one side, chips in my hair, dried drool on my cheek. And I must have lain on the bone in his foot because my face hurt enough I knew there had to be a red mark covering half of my face.
I was fairly positive I looked like I should be calling Alcoholics Anonymous instead of being an active participant in the Game for the Guard.
Lucifer rubbed his eyes and opened them again, staring. “Nope. I’m not imagining it. You really look that bad.”
I plucked another chip from my hair and threw it at him. “Fuck you.” Point to him.
He stretched and yawned, lots of muscles flexing. “We need to move. General Finley expects us downstairs for our daytime Game.”
My eyes narrowed. A damn rooster had woken us. That was like birds chirping before the sun rose. It was animal time, not human—or
I didn’t care about manners at this point. I spoke as I chewed a bite of my own chicken sandwich and chips. “This was supposed to be part of the Game. We’re supposed to be training for situations like this, not handling them right now.”
Lucifer muttered around a mouthful, “Those guys were pros.”
General Finley smiled then. “You have nothing to say about the actual work? No squeamish worries? No blushing modesty?”
Lucifer snorted.
I asked dryly, “Did it look like we had a problem with that?”
General Finley relaxed. “No. Not at all. You were both very good. You could have any job in a sex club.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re flattered, but we’re booked.” I pushed the black cards across the small table, in his direction, and explained what we had learned.
I dropped onto the bed, groaning, my feet barking. I stared up at the ceiling as I munched on my chips and curled and uncurled my toes. Christ, my feet hurt something fierce. Whoever the hell invented stilettos deserved to be shot. My ankles were actually swollen.
Suddenly, strong hands held my feet, kneading into the soreness. I groaned loud and long. It hurt at first, but Lucifer knew what he was doing.
My eyelids drooped.
Ah.
General Finley cleared his throat delicately. “Shall I come back later? Give you two some privacy?”
Lucifer and I flipped him off at the same time.
General Finley’s lips twitched.
I questioned, “So, what the hell happened to the Game?”
General Finley shrugged. “The opportunity presented itself. It was dumb luck they were there tonight and a credit to you both that you managed to attract their attention so quickly. They’re on our watch list for a smallish ring here in Terlant.
“You obviously can’t go in yet,” I seriously pouted at that, “but we can send in someone with the information we’ve garnered tonight.” He paused. “Or today. Whatever time it was. I’m just happy you two found one another. You make an excellent team. I would never take the risk of you being placed with someone you don’t know.”
I agreed, “Lucifer and I get each other.”
Lucifer just yawned and laid his head down by my feet. He still massaged them, his fingers digging in, but his efforts were getting weaker and slower. His yawn was contagious, and I followed suit, my lids dropping.
He mumbled, “Where’s Kingsley?”
“In my room. Sleeping on my pillow.”
Lucifer chuckled.
General Finley blew out the candles and left the room on silent feet.
I woke up to a rooster crowing. My face was smashed against something hard and smooth and warm, and something else that crunched and smelled of BBQ. I wiped the drool from my mouth and opened my eyes. I was still on Lucifer’s bed. I had used his foot and a sack of chips as a pillow.
He groaned from the other end of the mattress. “Clean the damn drool off my foot. It’s making me need to pee more.”
I quickly used my shirt to wipe my spit off his foot. Then I picked chips out of my hair as I sat up.
He rolled over. His sleepy eyes stared up at me. I was sure I was a sight, my ponytail listing off to one side, chips in my hair, dried drool on my cheek. And I must have lain on the bone in his foot because my face hurt enough I knew there had to be a red mark covering half of my face.
I was fairly positive I looked like I should be calling Alcoholics Anonymous instead of being an active participant in the Game for the Guard.
Lucifer rubbed his eyes and opened them again, staring. “Nope. I’m not imagining it. You really look that bad.”
I plucked another chip from my hair and threw it at him. “Fuck you.” Point to him.
He stretched and yawned, lots of muscles flexing. “We need to move. General Finley expects us downstairs for our daytime Game.”
My eyes narrowed. A damn rooster had woken us. That was like birds chirping before the sun rose. It was animal time, not human—or
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