“I think it’s more like the other way around. It was her sitting outside of my house with a pair of binoculars, not me.”
“She wants more of what she took from you, then. What was it? Couldn’t have been your life essence, or you wouldn’t be here.” I can see that her mind is working. “What was it? Sex…” Her face scrunches in thought. “I’ve never heard of them being sexual like that. Essence though—”
“We didn’t have sex…I don’t think.” I frown.
Morgan
“You don’t think?” I smirk at him. “Really? Did you have one too many? How can you have sex and not remember? Did she blow your mind that badly? I didn’t know they could do that either.” I frown. There is so much we don’t know about harpies. After all of my research, I found bits and pieces but nothing conclusive. All I have are questions.
“I remember very little after we came back here. I think she…” His eyes narrow on mine. “What did you do to me in my office? What are you?” His voice lowers a couple of octaves. His green eyes seem to lighten.
“I’m very much human, but other than that, I’m not telling you anything. You’re not human. I’m not sure what you are…” A demigod. Son of Apollo. Yeah, I don’t think so!
“I already told you.”
“And I’m still not buying it. What are you wearing, by the way?” I look down at his boxers. They’re all he has on. Holy smokes, he’s hot. Those abs, that chest, his arms. I knew he looked good, but this is ridiculous. I immediately berate myself. I can’t be thinking along these lines.
“I didn’t have time to dress. Thank god I didn’t get dressed,” he mumbles to himself. “Gabby would be dead. My… What’s a harpy?”
I groan inwardly for my slip of the tongue. How could I have been so careless? “I’ll tell you more if you tell me what she took.”
He lifts his eyes and cocks his head.
“What is it?”
“Sirens,” he growls. “The cops are on their way. I hope to god no one saw me.”
I snigger. “A big, half-naked gorilla with a woman slung over his shoulder would be hard to miss.”
He scowls at me, and I wink at him. I don’t know why, but I enjoy giving him shit.
He throws me what he probably thinks is a dirty look but is pretty darned sultry, in my opinion. “A gorilla with a pencil dick, how does that work again?”
My eyes dart to his crotch. How can they not? He brought up his dick. This guy definitely doesn’t have a pencil dick. There is a lot going on down there. I quickly look away. I shouldn’t be looking at his crotch or at any part of him.
I hear sirens blaring, they’re getting closer.
“That’s my bedroom through there.” He points at a door.
“I’m not going into your bedroom.”
He rolls his eyes. “Believe me, the last thing I want is you in my room, but the incident happened in front of my house.” He points towards the street. “We shouldn’t be out here where the cops can see us.” There are windows. Shit!
I hear cars pulling up. Light flashes through the blinds. The sirens cut out.
They’re here.
I nod once, and we go into his bedroom. Lyre turns a side-lamp on.
“Wow!” I almost choke on my saliva. His bedroom is bigger than my last apartment. The whole thing. There are two doors, I’m guessing that one of them is a bathroom. I suddenly need to go. “Which one is the bathroom?”
“You can’t be serious?”
“I’ve been watching your house for hours.” I dance on my feet. “I really need to go.”
“The door on the right.” He glowers at me. “We’re not done talking.”
I dash to the door and head inside. My mouth falls open. The bathroom is just as big and beautiful. I see a huge hot tub. A double shower. A huge, gray-washed oak vanity.
Then I remember my bladder is about to let go. So I open my belt, pull down my pants, and do what I need to do. I wash my hands and dry them on the fluffiest towel I’ve ever touched.
My eyes are a little bloodshot. I’m staying in a motel just outside of town. The mattress is lumpy, and the sheets smell weird. It was all I could afford since I’ve been suspended without pay from the Order for walking out. I’m more than likely going to lose my job. I don’t care. There is no change with Andy. Machines are keeping him alive. With each day that passes, there is less and less hope of him recovering. I need to get him justice.
I push out a breath and go back into Lyre’s bedroom. I note that he’s wearing jeans. He almost looks better in the jeans than he did in the boxers. I feel anger wash over me all over again. “I still cannot believe you let her get away.”
“I still can’t believe you were watching my house and that you ran at her, guns blazing.”
“I had to watch your house. I had a hunch she would come back and—”
The doorbell rings.
Lyre curses under his breath.
“Stay calm,” I whisper. “They’re probably going door to door.”
“Or someone saw me,” he quickly answers.
“Or they’re going door to door. Deny any involvement in anything.”
He nods once, frown lines on his forehead. His eyes are blazing. Lyre starts walking towards the door.
“Wait,” I say.
“What?”
“You probably just got out of bed, you should lose the jeans.”
One of his brows goes up, but he, thankfully, doesn’t argue. That’s a first. I watch as Lyre unbuttons his jeans; he pulls them down and steps out of them, throwing them over a nearby chair. “Whatever you do, stay in here.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand.
“What now?”
“You have sand on your feet.”
He looks down and curses. Then he spends a few seconds wiping at his feet. He uses the wall to lean against.
“Stay put,” he repeats, whispering.
I nod.
He closes the door behind him, but I open it again, just a smidgen, so that I can listen in.
They knock a second time just as Lyre gets to the door. His ass is meaty in those boxers. If I wasn’t so mad at him, I might find him attractive. Then again, he’s not human, and that’s a line I never cross. Most of the non-humans I encounter are monsters. I have a hard time trusting humans let alone strange creatures. I should never have become friends with Lilith. I’d be stupid to make the same mistake twice.
“Good morning,” I hear someone say from outside. “My name is Detective Ross Coleman, and this is Detective Montroy.”
“Morning.” Lyre doesn’t sound impressed.
“There were gunshots reported at this address. There’s broken glass and shell casings on the street in front of your house.”
“Oh,” I hear Lyre say. He tells me I’m a bad liar. I don’t even have to see his face to know he’s talking shit. Anyway, he’s wrong. I’m a great bullshitter. It goes with the job. I bullshit to get into places. I bullshit to get out of trouble. I bullshit to get information. I’m good at bullshitting. Lyre does seem to know when I’m doing it, though, which is weird.