Gideon dropped onto the cushion beside him and pulled Rafe back so that he was cuddled beside him. “You left before it was decided, but Marcus and Ethan are making their home the official Varik Manor. I’ve accepted their offer to move in. I think Ryder is coming with me.” The playfulness bled away, and Gideon’s eyes became serious again. “I’ve never felt comfortable living alone. Before…before I was turned, I always had a lot of roommates. I’d rather live with other people.” He paused and turned so that he could face Rafe. “Is that okay? You do think they really meant the offer…”
“Yes!” Rafe said quickly. He wrapped his arm around Gideon’s shoulders and pulled him tight against him. “Yes, I believe you’re welcome at Varik Manor, and you’re going to be very happy living there. Well, assuming you can stomach the disgusting sweetness that is Ethan and Marcus together. Personally, I have to space out my visits or risk vomiting on his lovely vintage Persian rug in the library.”
“Good,” Gideon said with a heavy sigh. “But that’s not why I came in here.” He pushed away from Rafe and turned so that he was practically sitting sideways on the sofa. “The clan leader of the MacPhersons is here. He wants to talk to you.”
“The clan leader demanded to talk to me?”
Gideon cringed. “No, it was a polite request. He’s being very civil. Lola is giving him the private booth at the back of the club with the good view of the dance floor. I think she’s sending over your favorite scotch to the table while he waits for you.” He paused and licked his lips. “She also suggested that I go visit Ethan at Varik Manor. Winter is already on his way to escort me there.”
“Good plan.” Rafe leaned forward and brushed a kiss to the top of Gideon’s head before he rose. “Be nice to Winter. He’s still adjusting to Ethan’s sass. I think the two of you would just break his poor brain.”
Gideon gave a shudder. “Definitely not comfortable teasing Winter.”
Rafe stopped, his eyes narrowing on Gideon. “You know Winter will never hurt you, right?”
“I know that up here,” Gideon said, tapping his temple. “It just takes a little while for it to sink in everywhere else. It’s hard to make the shift from thinking someone is the boogieman to thinking the boogieman is now your brother.”
Rafe nodded. “You’ll get there.”
Pausing to check his tie in the bathroom mirror off his office, Rafe winked at Gideon, who was still sitting on the sofa, before heading down to the main floor. The appearance of the clan leader was…well…unexpected, to say the least. Did he hear about Philippe’s meeting with Marcus and Aiden? But then, that raised the question of whether the MacPherson clan was actively trying to form an alliance with the Arsenaults.
Why would the MacPhersons seek an alliance with the Arsenaults? They were a horrible match. Unless the clan leader didn’t know the full details behind the Arsenaults’ members.
Or was the MacPherson clan leader at Blush for an entirely different reason?
Rafe rubbed his eyes over the dull ache starting to throb behind them. This was why Marcus handled the political nonsense. He didn’t like the teasing and tiptoeing through things unless it was going to get him laid.
He stopped on the threshold leading to the club and nodded to Lola at her usual spot by the bar. Her lovely full lips were pressed into a thin line, and the muscles in her jaw flexed like she was grinding her molars together. No, the arrival of a clan leader without warning was never a fucking good thing. It would be better for everyone in the nightclub if Rafe got rid of this guy as quickly as possible.
Nolan MacPherson was a surprise. Okay, so maybe Rafe had let his imagination run away with itself when all he had to work with was the name MacPherson. Just possibly he’d sketched up a brute of a man in a kilt with a wild red beard and wild red hair and equally wild red eyes. And yes, a big gut to go with his big arms and thighs.
It was all very logical at the time.
But that was not the vampire seated in the circular booth at the rear of the nightclub.
That man had a chiseled jaw and an aquiline nose set just perfectly under a pair of sharp blue eyes. Lush lips were parted in an engaging smile as he watched the people dancing and laughing in front of him. Instead of fiery red hair, he had thick, warm auburn locks that curled at the collar of his button-down shirt. To say he was handsome was a laughable understatement.
Yet, where the figure was enticing, the power rolling off him was like being hammered by a massive wave and shoved against the ocean floor. It was suffocating and unrelenting.