Page 62 of Kenna's Dragon

I’m aware. The vampire is richer than sin, probably more than either Elias or I with the centuries he’s spent dealing in artifacts and secrets and gods know what else. It’s how I met him in the first place, when he tracked me down to retrieve a very large and very expensive emerald from my hoard. An emerald that just so happened to be attached to a coronet belonging to one of Britain’s most ancient dukedoms.

It wasn’t my fault the heir to said dukedom had bargained it away in an attempt to recoup his massive gambling debts before it wound up in my hoard. And even though Cas went away empty-handed from the exchange, we’d stayed in touch and become friends over the next few decades.

He’s been in and out of both Elias’s and my lives in the centuries since. He’ll occasionally disappear for years or decades at a time, only to show back up as soon as we’d written him off for dead.

The past half-century, however, has mellowed him. He purchased a large home in Boston and seemed to actually settle for the first time in his existence, though for the life of me, I can’t figure out the reason for it.

“I know,” I tell him. “And you also know I’ll always offer.”

The help he’s given me since the Bureau was little more than a dream for myself and a few other founding paranormals has been invaluable. Information on high-ranking government officials. Small pieces of secret, damning leverage we could employ to force hands when we needed to. And even now, he’s always willing to lend a hand to the Bureau when it’s needed.

Cas stands, rolling his shoulders. “You’ll have more information about this assignment for me?”

I nod. “Yes, in the next couple of days, actually. If you’re sticking around Seattle?”

His devilish smile returns. “I am. I fully intend to terrorize Elias and his delectable little mate for a few days. The kraken still hasn’t learned what a mistake he’s made by offering me free admittance into his home.”

Snorting another laugh, I shake my head. Cas has full access to my penthouse as well, but I don’t blame him for wanting to spend time with Elias and Nora. Their place is a true home, one that’s felt full and bright and warm ever since they moved in together.

“Tell Nora I said hi.”

“You can’t tell her yourself?”

Hesitating, I try to think how to answer him and cover my ass at the same time. I’ve been avoiding Nora and Elias since Kenna and I have been… well, whatever we are. I’m not sure how to face them, or how to answer any of their more than fair questions about just what the hell I’m doing with Nora’s best friend.

“Just send my regards.”

“Send them yourself,” Cas insists. “Join us for dinner this weekend. Unless there’s a reason you’ll be tied up here in the city? Something that might have to do with the way you smell like you’ve been dipped in a vat of orange juice and… ginger?”

Cas leans in and takes a good, long whiff of me. Red eyes dancing, he opens his mouth to speak again, and I hold a hand up in warning.

“Not the time.”

“Fine,” he concedes. “Then I’ll look forward to stopping by before I head back to Boston.”

As soon as I’m alone in my office, a strange heaviness settles itself into my chest. A weariness, maybe, some kind of exhaustion that seeps down to my bones.

This whole business in Boston makes me uneasy, and I can’t put my finger on exactly why. Maybe because I’m not convinced it will make a damned difference, even if it works out the way it’s supposed to. The ghosts of the same old battles to fight coming back to haunt me again and the recognition of the futility of it all, even as I know I can’t step back from the fight.

Or perhaps it’s the visit from HHS next week hanging over me like a headsman’s ax. With all the chaos here in Seattle this past year—both of my own making and otherwise—part of me wouldn’t even be surprised if they tried to fire me outright.

I’ve got other ammunition I could deploy if that came to pass, other favors to call and levers of power to pull, but thinking about it now just makes me feel tired.

And, all of that aside, there’s an accompanying pulse of pain in my chest right next to that exhaustion. Sharp need and cloying guilt twisted together in a vice around my heart.

The image of Kenna’s face comes to mind, dappled in morning sunlight, eyes closed and full lips parted slightly as she slept. She was sprawled across my chest when I woke this morning, and I had the pleasure of watching her sleep for a few long, precious minutes. Kenna was relaxed, utterly peaceful, and I felt as if I could have stayed there watching her for hours.

But, like it always will with us, life and reality came crashing back in. And now all I have is the remnants of her scent on me as I turn back to the unending pile of responsibility on my desk.

I settle in and get back to work, all my frustrations and exhaustion and that needling ache in my chest hanging over me like a dark cloud.

25

Kenna

“Kenna,” Ewan growls. “Enough teasing.”

He’s sitting on the padded bench at the foot of his bed, wings spread behind him. I’m kneeling on the rug, kissing up and down his thighs, nipping at his contracted abs, touching him everywhere but where he really wants it.

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