Maeve swallowed, feeling more and more as if she didn’t belong. Dragan hadn’t introduced her as his girlfriend—though she hadn’t expected that—but he hadn’t even called her a friend. Rather, she was the person who’d freed him from the statue and, yes, he’d credited her with finding this place, but she’d done it without magical skills or obscure languages. She was happy and relieved to have freed him. But then, she would have felt the same even if she wasn’t half in love with him. She snorted softly. Right. There was no half about it. She was completely gone. The computer geek who’d fallen in love with the football hero. Anyone who’d ever gone to high school knew how that one turned out.
She wished Hana hadn’t insisted on going with her to the SUV. She could have made a clean break of it—kissed Dragan good-bye and disappeared before she turned into a sobbing mess. Now it was too late, and she could only hope he wasn’t too embarrassed that his rescuer was so ordinary, compared to the others.
“Come on,” Hana said, pushing the entry code to open the front door, and waiting until Maeve was inside before closing it.
Loud male voices were coming from the back of the house, including Dragan’s. He sounded excited. She didn’t think she’d heard that from him before. Happy, angry, passionate . . . oh, yes. That last for sure. It was a memory she’d take into old age with her. The sound of that beautiful man’s passion while he thrust inside her. She shivered at the memory.
Hana nodded in the direction of the noise as they came even with a hallway that branched off to the right. “Well, that explains why they didn’t hear all the ruckus outside when Gabriel caught sight of you two. Doesn’t say much for security, though.”
“Himura Hana,” a light woman’s voice called from the right. “Security is fine. I saw you and Gabriel out there. I just figured you two could handle it.”
Hana laughed, a sweet, feminine sound that fit her perfectly. Though apparently there was a bad-ass under all that beauty.
“Join us, Lili,” Hana called, pausing in the hallway opening. “It’s the ultimate reunion.”
“In a minute,” the unseen Lili responded.
Hana didn’t wait, but touched Maeve’s arm and kept walking toward the back of the house. “She won’t,” she confided as they passed two closed doors. “Lili’s shy. But you’ll meet her later.”
They walked into a big living room at the end of the hall just in time to see a handsome man with long dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail embracing Dragan, while a giant blond man had his arms around them both, and was doing his best to crush them. Maeve had thought Dragan was a big man, and he was. No doubt of that. But the blond was huge. Not literally a giant—she was too well-schooled to think that—but he stood out, even in a room full of big men.
“That’s Damian,” Hana confided. “He has an interesting story. You should ask him about it,” she added as she crossed the room to stand with Gabriel who was laughing at the huddle of male flesh.
Maeve hung back, not wanting to interrupt the group hug, and thinking she wouldn’t be asking Damian about his story. She had a feeling Hana might be playing a joke on her. Sort of an initiation for the newbie chick into this remarkably exclusive group. She’d ask Dragan instead. Later, when it was just the two of them.
Doubt struck her with that last thought. Would it ever be just the two of them again? Or now that Dragan had been reunited with his people, would he disappear into their ranks? Lost in sadness at the thought of losing Dragan, she jumped in surprise when he reached back and pulled her into his arms, settling her back to his front. She reached up with both hands to grip the arm he had holding her in place, and felt the brush of his lips on the side of her head.
“Nico,” Dragan said, over her head. “This is my Maeve.”
A man who’d been half-hidden by the huggers, moved into full view, slapping a hand on Damian’s shoulder, as if to keep him from stepping back and crushing him.
Maeve stared. This was Nico? The ages-old and incredibly powerful sorcerer? Boy, did the movies get that one wrong. And role-playing games, too. Nico wasn’t grizzled and bearded, with a look of weary wisdom in his eyes. He was gorgeous. A couple inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and the long, lean look of a swimmer, rather than heavily muscled like the others. About the only thing the movies did get right was the sense of presence that surrounded him like an aura, if one believed in such things. It was more than arrogance or simple confidence. It was . . . power, she realized. Nico might not look the part, but he gave off a sense of strength that she’d never gotten from Sotiris in all the time she’d worked for him. Even Nico’s eyes, which were hazel, more gold than brown, glittered with power. And those eyes were currently fixed utterly on her, as if he was drilling directly into her brain to learn everything there was to know. She held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated, and for what it was worth, thinking blank thoughts.
Eventually he stepped closer and held out a hand. “Nick Katsaros. Or Nico, if you prefer.”
Maeve was never too thrilled about touching strangers, and especially not ones who gave off so much power that she feared getting caught up in it with a single handshake. On the other hand, this was Dragan’s friend and mentor from his other life. Even if he decided to kiss her good-bye and go off with his long-lost brothers, she didn’t want to insult someone so important to him. So she offered Nico her hand. “Maeve Collins.”
“I understand I have you to thank for bringing Dragan back to us.”
Her face heated with embarrassment. “Not really. We made it here together. It was . . . tumultuous.”
He gave her a funny smile. Maybe it was the “tumultuous.” Did anyone else talk like that? Ugh.
She was grateful when Nico turned his attention to Dragan, his expression one of genuine joy. “Dragan.” Maeve stepped aside, as the two men came together in a solid embrace that lasted a long time, with Nico, his eyes shiny with tears, murmuring over and over again, “I’m sorry, brother. So fucking sorry.”
It was a deeply personal moment, and one she wasn’t supposed to hear. But she was standing so close that she couldn’t not hear it. So she pretended to be listening to what the others were saying, instead.
Dragan shook his head, denying Nico’s words. “It wasn’t you who brought this on us. It was him, and we all know it. But now that we’ve cheated him of his ultimate revenge, it’s our turn. That fucker is going to learn that he should have left us alone.”
“Damn straight,” the Damian boomed. “His ass is ours.”