Page 46 of The Nephilim's Touch
“Has Van shown you that tail thing he does?” Wren, Lark’s older brother, comes from the kitchen with a chicken finger hanging from his mouth. “Nothing like that tail thing he does.” He brushes his long white hair over his shoulder. “Sorry for the late notice.” He pulls the chicken from his mouth and tugs Lark in for a hug. Wren’s bigger than Lark, taller, more muscles, but it’s obvious they’re brothers.
“I wouldn’t say you gave any notice, but I’m happy to see you this week,” Lark says.
“And you’re eating more of my food,” Pike grumbles.
Wren drops a few coins from the Fae lands on the countertop. “I’m paying this time,see?” He winks at Pike who rolls his eyes.
“Wait. Doyouknow where Van’s crossroads is?” I ask Wren.
“Sorry, I don’t. We fucked around in the bathroom a few times and never even left the bar.”
“Didn’t need to know that,” Lark deadpans.
“Well, now you do. Where’s that kitty cat boy? We have a D appointment.”
“Sparkle isn’t in yet,” Pike says.
“Then I’ll wait.” Wren hops over the bar top and slides onto a stool. “Don’t have any courtesan duties for three days. I plan to make the most out of them.”
There’s a sizzle behind me.
“I can’t find him.” There’s panic in Warwick’s voice. He paces. “But that doesn’t mean anything. I won’t be able to find him if he’s at his crossroads.”
I pace with him. “So I shouldn’t worry?”
“Not yet.”
“I don’t know that I’ll be able to concentrate until I see him again.”
Lark waves at Frankie’s couch. “Go sit with Frankie.”
“I can’t?—”
The door opens and in strolls Van. I rush to his side and pat him down, making him laugh. “What’s wrong, angel?” He brushes hair from my eyes and I can’t stop looking him over, making sure every piece of him is still there.
“I was worried. You just told me about someone that wants to fight you, then you disappeared. I thought maybe they summoned you.”
He wraps me in his arms and pulls me close. I burrow as close as I possibly can.
“Sorry I scared you.” Van’s voice is so gentle as he caresses my back.
I shake my head. “I may have overreacted.”
We stand there until I feel like I can breathe again, and I suck in his scent.
“I got you, Gabe.”
We have an audience, and I don’t care. At least until the door opens and in strolls Domhnall, of all people.
“Lookie here,” he says. “You’re still alive.”
Warwick charges the gargoyle before he can say anything else.
“Wick, don’t,” Van shouts and Wick stops short of attacking. “What do you want Domhnall? All you do is antagonize us. Why don’t you?—”
Domhnall throws something at Van. It looks suspiciously like the disk from earlier. Van spins, so it hits him in the back.
“Shoren says hi,” Domhnall says before he saunters back out of the bar.
