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Sweet Peril

Page 38

   


The features of Kope’s strong profile were set with heartache for the sibling he never knew.
“It was centuries ago,” he continued. “But I believe my father still mourns her.”
“Was he the one who . . . killed her?”
“No. The Dukes forced a brother Neph to take their lives.”
I shuddered at the thought.
“I tell you this, not so you will fear love but so you can understand why many Neph do.”
We were quiet, and I didn’t know what to say.
Kope cleared his throat and stood. “We will find Flynn now. Come.”
I followed him, feeling gutted.
Flynn lived in a shiny glass apartment tower on the water in Melbourne. The building looked like hundreds of mirrors reflecting the bright blue sky. He lived at the top of the high-rise.
Kope and I stepped off the elevator and looked down the hall at Flynn’s door. We’d been silent. Nodding to each other, we sent our hearing into the apartment. With a quiet gasp, I yanked my auditory sense back to normal. Flynn was busy with company at the moment. Very busy. Kope made a low sound and closed his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear away the sounds he’d heard. My face heated and I shifted from foot to foot, fighting back the nervous smile that always wanted to surface at inappropriate times.
I found a small sitting area around the corner with glass walls overlooking the city. We sat, taking in the view. When my stupid urge to smile finally settled, I braved another look at Kope and pointed to myself, using my new, limited sign-language skills to tell him I’d listen. Given the new information about his inclination for lust, it was only fair. I quickly looked away, embarrassed by the crassness of the situation. I wasn’t going to listen the whole time. I’d just pop in for a quick check.
Ten minutes passed. Still busy.
Half an hour passed. Busy.
Forty-five minutes passed. I shook my head to let Kope know they were still at it. He fidgeted and paced, out of his normal, calm comfort zone.
An hour and ten minutes passed, and I took a turn at stretching my legs. I was getting hungry. I thought we’d be through with our talk by this time. We could interrupt Flynn, but I didn’t want him to freak out in front of somebody. We needed his guest to leave so we could talk alone.
At the hour and a half mark, Kope checked his watch and looked at me. I sent my hearing into the room. Oh, they weren’t in the bedroom anymore. Finally! I wiggled my hearing around until it hit the sound of running water. A shower. This was a good sign. But wait . . . nope. I shook my head, eyes wide. Was this normal?
Kope did something uncharacteristic then. He grinned, giving a little huff through his nose. This elicited a small giggle from me and I pressed both hands over my mouth. It was too late, though. At this point, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I could feel the crazy, unfortunate amusement rising. I jumped up and ran as spritely as I could to the stairwell with Kope on my heels. We sprinted down several flights before I fell back against the wall, laughter bubbling out. It went on and on, only getting worse when Kope joined in with his deep chuckling, a joyful rumble.
We laughed away the anxiety and discomfort of the day, and though we’d never be able to ease back into the innocence of friendship the way it used to be, I knew we’d be okay.
We stayed in the stairwell until I heard Flynn’s guest leave his place and get on the elevator. I marched back up the steps and went straight to his apartment. I stood there with my hands on my hips and Kope at my back. When Flynn opened the door and raked his eyes up and down my body, a case of nerves came back full force and my bright idea to smile at him disappeared. My hands dropped at my side.
Flynn leaned against the doorjamb with one forearm propped up on it. His red hair was darkened by water, and he was wearing a towel around his waist. Just a towel. He was short, with a prizefighter’s physique. He eyed our badges.
“Been waiting long?” he asked. The question was casual enough, but a warning lived in his eyes. He was wary of us.
I smiled tightly, which brought a giant grin to his rugged, handsome, freckled face.
“Your father is away and he won’t be back until tomorrow,” I told him. “Can we come in?”
He shrugged, turning his back on us with the confidence of a man who was either not afraid to die or not scared to defend himself in an attack. We followed him inside and closed the door. Flynn walked into the bedroom, but Kope and I stayed in the living area, on alert.
His apartment faced a stunning water view, magnified by floor-to-ceiling windows. Walking toward the glass gave me a weird sense of vertigo as I realized just how high we were. I placed my hand on the top of a sleek, black couch. His furniture was sparse and modern. The only decor was on the far wall—shelves filled with hundreds of trophies and ribbons.
“You will not be needing that,” Kope said. I turned and saw Flynn placing a handgun on the bar top that overlooked the kitchen. My heart gave a hard pound. At least he wasn’t in a towel anymore. He’d changed into red, silky shorts.
“Well, I certainly hope not, mate, but you can never be too careful.” Flynn leaned against the bar, eyeing us, with the steel of the weapon gleaming next to him.
Okay, he was just making a point. Now it was time for me to reassure him. “This is Kopano, a son of Alocer. And I’m Anna, Belial’s daughter.”
He pointed at me. “You nearly got yourself killed last year. I remember your sweet little arse.”
Before I could open my mouth, Kope stepped toward him, tension punctuating the air. I moved forward, giving Kope’s forearm a quick squeeze.