Page 105 of Valkyrie Unknown

“I did.” He set a small box on the table between us. “It’s a pair though. One for him, one for her.”

Of course it was. “Not what I asked for.”

“What you get, because these kinds of spells work best when they go both ways, and because I can’t have you hurting her if I can avoid it.”

Fuck. “Fine.” I didn’t intend to be the one to harm her anyway, and if Loki got to her, his reasons were his own and had nothing to do with Zeke. I grabbed the box and pocketed it. “Thanks. When does this siren shit happen?”

“Don’t know.” Lugh shrugged. “Enid has the details, and the rest is up to her. The way my girl is going though, I assume soon.”

So I needed to distract Zeke while Azzie was gone. Finally get him to myself again for a little while, and be prepared to offer comfort if she didn’t return.

Best thing I’d heard all day.

Twenty-Eight

Zeke

Every time Finn did this—steppedout to take care of some sort of vaguebusinesshe refused to talk about—it was a reminder that he was a temporary fixture in life. Usually I could brush it off and remind myself I’d always known exactly what he and I had.

He didn’t owe me an explanation because we weren’t romantically involved. There was sex. Sharing information. Nothing more. In fact, I still hadn’t figured out what he was getting out of this relationship.

But he’d only done this once since Azzie and Davyn started renting the house next door, and it had been months. Besides, this birthday trip was his idea.

The exchange, his leaving abruptly, left a scowl on my face that I couldn’t shake away as I walked into the room.

Azzie on the edge of one of the beds, her shirt still on, as she watched me. In the few moments I’d been in the hall, she’d pulled her hair into a thick braid that trailed down her back. “Didn’t say where he was going?”

I shook my head. “Same bullshit as always.”

She opened her mouth.

“And if you tell me it’s obvious he cares about me”—again—“I call bullshit.” I cut her off before she could talk. I trusted Azzie when it came to almost everything, but not her opinion about what Finn was thinking.

If she couldn’t figure out her own shit—what she and Davyn were to each other, that she was actually friends with Enid, that she and I?—

“Just because he’s bad at dealing with it doesn’t mean his feelings aren’t sincere,” she said.

I didn’t want to ruin the evening with this. “Lying isn’t a love language. Can we let Finn be Finn wherever and whatever the fuck that is, and go back to what we were doing?”

She searched my face for a moment, and stood. “Paint me like one of your French girls?” Her tone was instantly sweet and soft, as she plucked the paper bag of magical henna from the mattress and shook it.

I huffed at the bad attempt to change the subject, but it was exactly what I wanted. “Temporary tattoos aren’t what that line is about.” I took the bag from her and set it on the desk before grabbing a chair for her, and pointing it at the door. “Back to me.”

She stripped off her shirt without hesitation, but held it demurely in front of her chest as she glanced over her shoulder at me and batted her lashes. “It’s not?”

“Sit down.” I smacked her ass playfully.

I grabbed another chair and set it behind her for me and sat, as she took her seat. She pulled her braid over her left shoulder as she glanced at me again. “Are we havingthe sex?” She teased. “Cuz this is the weirdest way I’ve ever done it.”

“I doubt that.” The conversation was ridiculous, but it made me feel better. Spending time with Azzie almost always did, even if she had her own deceptions. Unlike Finn, for the most part she was lying to herself, not me. Still a problem, but not in the same way.

I tugged her right bra strap down to expose her shoulder and neck completely, and she let out the tiniest sigh when my fingers brushed her skin. Did she know she was doing that?

“Keep facing forward.” As I talked, I cleaned the area I was going to paint on. Most people would sketch or transfer an outline of the art to the skin before they started painting, but that had never worked for me. The design would change a little as I recreated it on her back, but it always flowed best when I let my creativity draw as it wanted. “No more looking back at me, and as little movement as possible until I’m done. Warn me if you need to move or stretch.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t doubt it. She had the discipline to sit or stand or crouch anywhere for hours.

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