Fated (Doomsday Brethren 2)
“Not at all. I remember my fever for Auropha well. ” Depositing a few bills on the bar, Tynan stood. “Good night. ”
CHAPTER TWO
Sunlight blasted Ronan"s eyes like a two-ton bomb. Slinging his arm over his eyes, he licked his lips. Had his tongue grown fur overnight? He stretched, his hair pinned under his shoulders, and encountered another warm body.
Peering over with one eye open, he stared. Dark hair tangled across a woman"s narrow shoulders. She possessed a smooth, bare back, small waist, great backside. Ronan didn"t recall her name. In fact, he didn"t recall much of last night beyond the half bottle of scotch he had consumed. And insisting the woman beside him dim the lights so he could close his eyes and pretend he held Kari in his bed.
This morning, he had no illusions. He"d never seen this bedroom, and the brunette was nothing like Kari. Nor had fantasizing that he made love to her assuaged his ache. Lately, he"d repeated this pattern nearly every night. Different woman, different bed. Still, his need grew.
There had to be more to life than aimless shagging with strangers. What was the point of living centuries if all they had in store were empty embraces and quiet misery?
Sitting up, Ronan scrubbed his hands across his face. He had to leave. Now. Where the hell were his clothes?
Ignoring the pounding in his head, he slid his legs off the edge of the bed and stood, the cold November morning nipping at his bare skin. He studied the floor and found yesterday"s garments discarded among the woman"s. Her bra tangled in his socks, her knickers atop his shirt.
Bloody hell.
“Going somewhere?” asked a woman in a smoky voice.
Wincing, he cursed under his breath, then smoothed out his features and turned to her.
She had lovely brown eyes with thick lashes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips. Abrasions from his stubble chafed her jaw, breasts and abdomen. He"d done that. While thinking of another woman.
It wasn"t fair to her. Or to him.
Ronan couldn"t look at her anymore. He turned away.
Truthfully, he had nothing against whatever her name was. She"d provided a distraction last night, and in turn, he hoped he"d provided her pleasure. Now, he wanted only a drama-free farewell.
“I"m afraid I"m a bit busy this morning. Running late, in fact. ” He began grabbing his clothes and yanking them on. He"d love to use his magic…but Raiden had chosen two very human ladies last night. A wave of his hand, followed by a suddenly perfectly-dressed form might induce some screaming and require explanations.
As if sensing his withdrawal, the woman grabbed the sheet and covered everything below the neck. A relief, really. Not that she wasn"t gorgeous, but Ronan couldn"t deny his disinterest in the harsh light of day.
“Coffee?” she offered.
He"d love some, but… “No thanks. I"ll pop home. Don"t want to trouble you. Do you happen to know where my brother might be?”
“With Lily. Two doors down, corner unit. ”
Splendid. With Raiden elsewhere, he could leave this lady"s flat and teleport home without any sort of speech from his twin. What he"d do then… No idea. A part of him wanted to drown his sorrows in more scotch, but drinking before eight in the morning seemed a bit much, even for a Wolvesey.
He finished donning his clothes and sent her an awkward wave. “Right. Good bye, then. ”
“Before you go…”
Ronan winced again. Pray God she wasn"t going to ask him to fix some bit of plumbing for her, or worse, climb back into bed.
“Yes?”
“I don"t think we should see each other again. ”
Hmm. He should probably care that she"d insulted his masculinity or his prowess or some such. But he felt only relief.
“Agreed. ”
He left without another word, jogging down the hall, bypassing Lily"s flat, where his brother was presumably sleeping. Or busy. Raiden was a grown wizard who knew his way home.
The sooner Ronan left this place, the better.
He all but jumped down the stairs. Once in the building"s empty lobby, he hid in a dark corner, picturing the manor he shared just outside London with all the wizards in his family.
Then he dissipated from the spot, with an inconvenient trip to Nauseashire when his stomach revolted, before materializing back home.
A shower. And coffee. Damn and blast, impossible to have both at once.
Torn, he headed first for the kitchen. And unfortunately found his father.
“Early morning or late night?” his elder asked.
“Both. ”
His father laughed, revealing a row of white teeth, short dark hair lightly peppered with gray, and laugh lines around his green eyes. At nearly seven hundred, Nathanial Wolvesey looked barely forty in human terms.
“Me, too,” Nathanial confided.
Looking at his sire was like looking into Ronan"s own future. Same build, same features, same eyes. Same life of excess, alcohol, and one-night stands.
“You"re frowning, son. Wake up beside an ugly one?”
No. Quite the opposite. But he hadn"t woken up beside Kari. Such a sentiment would incite a great deal of laughter in this house. But he wasn"t certain he could hold it in. His fever for Kari kept raging, and he needed answers. His father was, unfortunately, the best place to start.
“Are you quite certain our family is cursed?”
His father paused, set down his steaming mug, and stared. “You doubt it?”
“Has any of us ever truly tried to find a mate?”
Nathanial recoiled. “Good Lord, why would you want to?”
“I don"t know that I do. ” Liar.
“Without the instinct, we could taste a million women and never know if one was our mate. That curse is to blame. So why risk a life of abject unhappiness?”
Because he was already unhappy.
“If it"s children you want, be patient. You know from me, your uncles, and brothers, it"s possible. Conceiving them merely requires a great deal of diligent effort. ” His father smiled him and winked as if that fact pleased him greatly. Knowing the elder Wolvesey, it did.