Page 177 of Gates of Tartarus

“Don’t think that this conversation is over, little miss ‘butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth’. There you were, implying all sorts of things about me and the guys, when all the while,youwere the one having a sneaky shag.”

“Sor-ry,” she trills. “I don’t speak British.” I can hear a zipper being done up.

“Playing nug-a-nug? Making the beast with two backs? Fadoodling? Rantum-scantum? Horizontal refreshment? Rumpy-pumpy? Afternoon delight? Copulation? Fornication?” I bellow. “Oh, excuse me,” I stutter, going red as a woman nearby turns to stare.

I hear a snort from behind the curtain, then Kailani emerges. She’s strikingly sophisticated, and my embarrassment gives way to a little envy as I look at her. “I could never wear that,” I sigh. “With my height, it would swamp me.”

“Being tall isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she commiserates. “I mean, have you seen my feet?” and she waggles one in my direction.

I grin. “I’m sure we’ll find a pair of Louboutins to fit you. Come on: we’d better take a photo to send to Elizabeth. Say ‘cheese’.”

“Ugh,” is the reply, as the curtain closes.

Family Matters

Thursday, 13 December – Kailani

The shopping excursion with Maela ended up being surprisingly fun, but stressful. Elizabeth’s driver had checked on us several times throughout our trip, so we couldn't ever fully let our guards down. The better part of the day felt like a pantomime – us talking about how excited we were to join Gaia, our plans for the ball… idle chit-chat really. And thank all the gods Maela was there for it, because she filled the silences beautifully. She’s a funny little thing, almost seems otherworldly, fae, with her pale skin and hair around her head like a wreath of fire. The woman practically floats from place to place, and I thump along beside her in my boots, listening to her steady commentary about the history of the places we’re passing. I can hear the postgrad in her… she knows all the interesting little bits that make historyreal, rather than just numbers and figures.

Once she realizes how truly fascinated I am by her impromptu city tour, conversation flows a little more easily, and she even makes the driver take a detour by Philpot Lane to show me the smallest sculpture in London. If we weren't so on show, the entire day would have been quite fun, but, as it was, I returned to my new lodgings exhausted, and not a little bit concerned about how I’d make it through the ball if a shopping trip wore me out.

We’ve moved from the hotel to a tiny, funny little cottage just down the street from Woolwich Cemetery in London. There are four bedrooms, two with bunk beds, two with precariously old queen beds, a little kitchenette, and a larger living room with a fireplace and television. It’s not very large at all, but cozy enough, though poor Maddox has to duck slightly as he walks through the low door frames. Gemma got her own room, as did I, though we offered to share one. Walker and Jonah grabbed a room together, which surprised me, because Maddox is so close with Walker, but they threw their bags on the bunks joking about sleepover camps. Deo and Madds were much quieter about having to room together but didn’t offer any open arguments, just went about their business.

The beds are small, and not made for American MMA giants like Walker and Maddox. Both of them look like grownups in toddler beds. Even Jonah, Deo, and myself are kind of wedged in. Only tiny, pixie Gemma is content. But the house smells like wood-burning fires and old books, and the night air is cool with the faint scent of bread from a bakery down the street, and it feels homey and welcoming. We all unpacked and arranged dinner to be delivered, before Maddox and the guys started combing through the briefings again.

I’m too tired to review the notes for the 150th time, so instead I’m sitting on the old, lumpy (though surprisingly comfortable) sectional with my legs propped up on the corner L. Gemma has claimed the one arm chair in the room and is curled up, eyes closed and half asleep in the warmth of the fireplace. The rest of the team is floating between the bedrooms and the kitchen, anxious pacing that pushes out against me. No one is entirely comfortable with how things are progressing – the plan had to come together so quickly, and we’re out of our element here, with so few things we can control. Elizabeth is throwing the fundraiser, so she has the choice of location, guest list, security, timing… the only thing we have on our side is the smallest element of surprise. But both teams have agreed that we have to act sooner rather than later, or we could lose a vital opportunity.

Walker ambles tiredly into the family room and flops down on the couch beside me, stretching out and putting his head on my lap, eyes closed. I freeze for a moment – this casual intimacy from Walker is unusual, especially in front of the rest of the team – but no one seems to mind, so I relax slightly and then gently run my hand over his head, stroking his hair, and watch his face relax.

The edges of his full lips turn up into a small smile. “Thanks, babe,” he murmurs softly. “That feels amazing.”

From the corner, I see Gemma open a single eye sleepily, and she smirks at me before closing it again.

“Babe?” I ask, and he grins.

“I’m trying it on for size. What do you think?” Without waiting for a reply, he reaches up and gently tugs on one of the loose strands of my hair that is tumbling over my shoulder in loose curls. Playing with the end of it, still not looking at me, he says quietly, almost under his breath, “When all this is done, Kai, I want to take you on a proper date. Just us. Is that... would that be okay?”

The hesitancy in his voice makes me smile, like I do every time the gruff man shows his more vulnerable side. “Well, I don’t know,” I begin seriously. “What would a date with Walker look like?”

Mock-frowning at me, he opens his sea-glass eyes. “Hey now. I’ll have you know I can set up a decent date for my woman!”

Grinning down at him, I see his dimples flash. “You’ll have to convince me,” I say slowly, and he sits up slightly on his elbow before turning to me. Running his hand through my hair to hold the back of my head, he pulls me towards him slowly, focused completely on my lips, and kisses me with heart-melting gentleness.

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” he whispers against my lips.

I’m so focused on the space between Walker and me that I jerk slightly in surprise as Jonah flops down lengthwise against me. “Naw, man,” he chirps, “You’re late to the party. Kai owes me a Rocky Horror dateanda coffee-tour date, so get in line.”

Walker doesn’t look away from me but smiles smugly. “Shotridge, have you evenlookedat the family calendar? I already put those on for next month. The soonest Rocky Horror is showing is late January, and the coffee tour next month is the 19th, yeah? So you’re already scheduled. Honestly,” he huffs. “What’s the point of me tracking all this if you don’t even use it? I made spreadsheets…” he adds, voice almost plaintive.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, laughing. “What family calendar?” I ask, and he pulls out his phone from his pocket, now sitting completely upright beside me so I can see. Jonah snuggles in on my other side, opening his phone as well.

“Family calendar,” Walker says firmly, opening his up to show me. Jonah mirrors his movements.

“Not, uh, group calendar or something?” I ask, and he looks at me with a very serious expression.

“No, Kai. Not group.” Pointing to the different colors, he explains. “Birthdays in red. So in January we have Gemma on the 13th and Jonah on the 28th…” Gemma’s eyes fly open.

“You put me in your family schedule?” she asks, a strange sound in her voice, something between surprise, happiness, and tears.

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