Most of the time, she’s not directing it at me like this, though.
“I’m not being ridiculous.”
“Oh, I see.” She nods slowly. “That’s why you’re running halfway across town to get away from those two up in your apartment. Because you’re not being ridiculous. Makes perfect sense to me.”
I glare. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“It’s literally my job to have all the information required to keep you safe. I probably understand better than you do. Alaric’s not happy in the little box you put him in, and he’s rattling his cage, which is rattling you.” Her gaze softens the tiniest bit. “You didn’t really consider what it’d be like once he’s free, huh?”
“Alaric and I are fine,” I say stiffly.
“Ursa.” Now her tone has gone soft, too. “That man worships the ground you walk on. You should be firmly in the honeymoon stage right now, not fine.”
“I can’t trust him. Not completely. Not where Zurielle is concerned.” The words spring free despite my best efforts to keep them internal. “Letting him too close right now is a mistake.”
Monica’s silent for several blocks. “What if it isn’t, though? Have you thought about that?”
Yes. Of course I have. The temptation to dismantle my walls and lean on him is almost too much to bear. I’ve stood alone for so long, and I am so incredibly tired. Alaric might not understand the sheer amount I carry, but he wouldn’t think less of me for wanting to set it down for a little while. He even seems to crave that intimacy.
It scares the shit out of me.
I can’t say this to Monica, though. Not unless I want another lecture about how good Alaric could be for me if I’d just get out of my own way. She’s liked him from the moment she met him during his first overnight at my place. Hardly an impartial party. “I’ll give it some more thought.”
“As long as there’s some action involved with all that thinking.”
“There will be.” Just not yet. Not tonight.
We make the drive to Malone’s place in thirty minutes. Like most of the other territory leaders, she makes her home in one of the skyscrapers in her territory. Unlike the rest of us, she’s actually CEO of the perfectly aboveboard company that runs out of this place. That’s what makes Malone so formidable. She’s one of the most powerful people in Carver City on both sides of the law. But then, she’s an Amazon, so of course she is. Those women all like to have their fingers in both legal and illegal businesses.
Her head of security, Sara, meets me at the front door. They’re a large Maori non-binary person with long black hair braided away from their strong face. They nod at me and step aside. “She’s waiting for you. Monica can wait here.” They smile. “Good to see you again.”
“You, too.” Monica grins back. “Love what you’ve done with your hair.”
“Thanks.”
“You two behave yourselves while I’m up there.”
Sara snorts. “We always do. Poker?”
“Definitely.” Monica makes a shooing motion. “Go talk to Malone. Maybe you’ll listen to her advice.”
“I listen to yours.” I sound like I’m protesting, and the look Monica gives me says she notices. There’s nothing to do but stage a studied retreat. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Malone and I come and go from each other’s residences often enough that our teams have become friendly—though that would go up in smoke in a second if we ever went to war. Private security can make a person’s life a living hell if they aren’t careful, no matter what their boss says. I know for a fact that Malone sends gifts to my main team on their birthdays, the crafty bitch. I’ve made a habit of doing the same for her people.
I find her in her living room. Her penthouse is much like the woman herself; stark and beautiful and more than a little cold. I frown at the pristine white couch she lounges on. “Is that new?”
“Rogue took exception to the last one.”
“You’re the only person I know who is willing to spend obscene amounts of money on furniture just for your cat to demolish it.”
“Everyone needs a hobby.”
I glance around the room. “Where is the little demon?”
“He’s around. I’m sure he’ll make his presence known at some point.” She motions an elegant hand to the couch. “Sit. You look frazzled.”
“I look nothing of the sort.” I sit despite my protest. Malone is dressed in a variation of her usual outfit, black slacks and a deep red blouse. It’s a little more professional and a little less sexy than what she normally wears to the Underworld. She must have been working when I called. “I interrupted your day.”
“It’s nothing.” She waves that away. “I was done with my meetings for the day. You saved me from a few hours of going over tedious reports.”