Nico shook his head at the big man. “Your assimilation into this culture is astonishing.”
“It’s all the movies he watches,” the dark-haired Casey called from across the room, where she was eating, and drinking, and generally making merry as she and the other women exclaimed over a tabletop sculpture of such incredible grace that Maeve’s affinity for old and beautiful things yearned to join them. But Casey wasn’t finished. “I can hardly get him into bed most nights. He’s always stuck in front of the big screen.”
Damian reached her in three long strides, catching her up bodily. “Complaining, Cassandra?”
Dragan and Nico looked from Damian to each other, then laughed and pounded each other’s backs a few more times, before stepping apart. Dragan put an arm around Maeve, pulling her against his side.
“Did you have problems getting here?” Nico asked, his mood turning on a dime, going dark and intent.
Dragan shrugged, caressing Maeve’s arm as he did so. “Mae worked it all out, figuring how Sotiris would see things, and where we should go to get away from him. After that, we were packed and on the road in no time at all. She’s the one who suggested Florida, too. Because of some comment Sotiris made about hating the place. And then she found you.” He gave her a proud, possessive smile and hugged her tightly. “She’s a genius, my Mae.”
“Sotiris?” Nico gave Maeve that penetrating stare again. “You know him?”
Maeve heard the suspicion in his voice, and her first thought was to tell him where he could shove it. But he didn’t know her, after all. And she had worked for the creep. It made sense to wonder if she was a plant. Sort of. Part of her was still insulted, but then Dragan rubbed a hand down her arm again, as if sensing she needed reassurance. It reminded her that all of this—the people, the place, even the trip here—was about him, not her.
“I worked for him,” she confirmed. “For nearly three years. I’m—” She wanted to tout her computer skills, but that wasn’t why Sotiris had hired her. “—an antiquities expert, of sorts. I know a lot about them, especially the more obscure items. I’m also super-organized and don’t mind being alone for long stretches of time.” Her heart hurt when she said that last part. Because it wasn’t true anymore, and might never be again. The problem was, there was only one man she wanted to be with, and he was about to leave her.
“Where?” Nico snapped out the question.
“Gently,” Dragan said quietly. “She’s no warrior.”
Maeve didn’t know whether to cheer or cry at his defense. It was obvious that the rest of them—even the women, it seemed—were fighters of one sort of another. Something she definitely wasn’t.
“Sorry,” Nico said. “I’m used to dealing with this crowd. If I don’t snarl, they don’t listen.”
Loud boos answered his pronouncement, telling Maeve that everyone was listening. Which only made it worse. But she was determined to stand her ground and not be intimidated by him or anyone else. She might lose Dragan, but she wouldn’t lose herself.
“He has a house in the Finger Lakes, upstate New York. He has other houses, other places. But that’s where I worked.”
“You know the details of these other houses?” All of Nico’s attention was abruptly, powerfully focused on her. Any doubt she’d nursed about magic or sorcerers disintegrated under the weight of that stare. And she knew he might have taken the facts straight from her mind, if Dragan hadn’t still been holding on to her.
“Yes,” she said simply.
Nico grinned. “Well, welcome to the team. What’s your poison?” He pointed at a wet bar on the far wall with rows of bottles behind it.
“Do you have a decent ale over there?” Dragan called, then kissed the side of her head. “Anything for you, sweet?”
“Just water.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks.” Looking around, she sat on one of the big couches. This was obviously a room meant for casual gatherings of friends. Every piece of furniture had its place, but they were all just slightly askew, as if people moved them whichever way they wanted, to accommodate conversations—even the private kind. Oddly, this informality let Maeve finally began to relax, because this place spoke of family. Maybe not the blood kind, but of bonds forged in fire.
Dragan returned with her water and sat next to her, turning to talk with Gabriel who’d sat on the other side of him. Maeve meanwhile looked up to see a lovely blonde approaching and scooted over to make room for her.
“Grace,” the smiling woman said, by way of introduction. “I’m with Kato.”
Maeve held out a hand, then froze, realizing this wasn’t a handshake crowd. “Maeve. But you know that already.”
Grace squeezed her hand. “They’re a little much,” she confided, glancing around the room. “But you’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “You’re all . . . fighters. Warriors.”
The other woman laughed. “They are,” she said, including Casey and Hana in her nod at the noisy group. “I’m not. I’m actually an antiquities expert like you. It’s nice to have another nerd in the group.”
She blushed. “I’m really more into computers than antiquities. I’m just an amateur enthusiast who likes weird old things.”
Grace leaned back, one hand going to her rounded belly. “I like that. Weird old things.”
“Congratulations,” Maeve said with a note of wonder. She’d never thought about these men having children. But of course, they would want to. And why not?
“Thank you, I—”
Nico dropped down in front of them, sitting on a huge hammock that was as much table, as seat. “Tell me how you got here.”
She was tempted to tell him they’d driven her SUV, but figured that wasn’t what he was looking for. “We started with the idea that you were in Florida since Sotiris had once complained about hating it here, because—his words—‘that bastard’ had the whole place under his control. Dragan had told me your name, but I assumed you’d have modernized it somewhat to blend in. I tried a few variations, narrowing the search to Florida, and got a hit on Nicholas Katsaros from an old newspaper article on some big fundraiser that you contributed to. There was a picture, and Dragan said it was you. I cracked the Florida DMV and found your license, with this address on it.”