Turning toward Grey, Cort rested his chin on Grey’s shoulder. “Well, you’re no longer injured and from what it sounds like, the pestilents are going to be causing problems for quite a while. At least until that final Weaver shows up. No sense in putting off happy times if you can get them.”
“Too true.” Grey turned his head and kissed Cort lightly. This was heaven. He never thought he’d have this. It was all so comfortable and well, maybe not easy. He and Cort were still skilled at butting heads, but it all felt natural. “How about when we all meet up at dinner, we suggest it to the other guys? See if there are some old decorations around here. Or if Wiley has ordered some. The guy seems to always have something scheduled for delivery.”
Cort’s face lit up like a little kid. “Maybe we could make a quick run for a big tree.”
Grey tensed, making a face. “Fake would be best,” he said quietly.
Cort winced, looking like he was torn between laughing and crying. “Earth Weaver…right? Probably wouldn’t react too well to us hanging lights on the corpse of one of his little friends.”
Grey laughed so hard, he had to grab the edge of the counter to keep his balance. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but I think he’d appreciate it if we stuck to fake trees rather than dead ones.” He brushed a kiss across Cort’s cheek. “But we can always get some lights and decorations for the trees in the yard.”
“I love this plan.”
“I—”
The alarm spell that Wiley helped them set up screamed in Grey’s head. He staggered a couple of steps and held his head. Cort was immediately at Grey’s side, gentle hands gripping his shoulders.
“Grey? What’s wrong?” Cort demanded, worry thickening his voice.
“Alarm,” he said through clenched teeth. The initial sharpness of the alarm was fading some, making it easier for him to straighten. Throughout the house, he could hear the thunder of footsteps from the second floor. He looked toward the patio doors to find Lucien and Calder running toward them with Ruby on their heels.
“Someone has crossed through the warning spell,” Grey added.
“It’s not a delivery!” Wiley’s voice echoed through the foyer as he shouted from the second floor.
Lucien burst through the door first. “Do we have eyes on the intruder?”
“Not yet. Wiley confirmed it’s not a delivery.”
Baer appeared at the bottom of the rear stairs and was heading for the backyard. “I’m going to tap into the birds in the area. See what they see,” he announced as he cut through the kitchen and disappeared outside.
“Weapons. We need weapons,” Grey said. He grabbed Cort’s shoulders and started maneuvering him toward the billiards room. His preference was to send Cort to the apartment to hide until the coast was clear, but he knew that his lover was not going to leave his side. If Cort was going to be present for a potential attack, then he was going to be armed.
When they reached the billiards room, Dane was already grabbing a shotgun and some ammo. “Clay is out front. He feels something faint walking along the driveway.”
Grey snatched up a shoulder holster that was adjusted to his frame and slipped it on. Cort’s nimble fingers jumped to the straps, straightening them and helping to settle them on Grey’s shoulders. Grey looked up to find Cort’s expression focused and determined. He wished he could smile at Cort and reassure him that it was going to be okay, but he held in the words. It was better if his mate was concentrating on the tasks before him.
As soon as the shoulder holster was set, Grey snatched up a pair of Glocks, checked the magazines, shoved them into the holders, and grabbed a couple of spare magazines.
“I’ll be with Dane and Wiley on the second-floor balcony, providing backup,” Cort said evenly. He hadn’t needed to, but Grey greatly appreciated it. His man was sticking to the plan they’d all worked out after the warning spell had been set.
“I’m going out front with Clay.”
Guns and other weapons were grabbed, and everyone jogged out of the room to take up their defensive position. As Cort turned to hurry out of the room. Grey snagged his arm and pulled him close so he could slam his mouth over Cort’s for a quick, brutal kiss.
“You keep your head down and stay safe for me,” Grey ordered.
Cort grinned at him. “You just go do your job, Soul Weaver.”
Yeah, Grey could do that. He released Cort and ran through the house to the front door. As he stepped outside, he found Clay standing at the bottom of the stairs, seeming to glare at the long gravel driveway, his arms folded across his broad chest.
Jogging down the stairs, Grey stopped and stood beside his brother, his hands on his hips Clay didn’t have an additional weapon on him, but as long as he was outside, the entire Earth could be his weapon. He was more deadly with nothing in his hands.