Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 15

"Would you care for a drink?" Thorne asks as we take our seats in the small sitting room across the hall from the kitchen. It's a cozy space, the sort of place in which a gentleman of bygone eras might have taken his breakfast with the morning papers.

Thorne stands at a sideboard along the wall, where a crystal decanter of whiskey and a set of matching tumblers rest on a silver tray.

Julian and Dane have taken a small settee, barely wide enough to hold them both, and I perch nervously on the edge of a large wingback chair upholstered in blue damask.

So far, Dane's anger has been directed at the fact that someone drugged Julian and stole the painting we'd been hired to protect. Eventually, though, I expect him to turn it on the person who allowed those things to happen—namely, me.

At the moment, however, Thorne seems more in danger of attracting his ire.

"We don't want drinks," Dane growls. "We want answers."

"I'll have a drink," Julian says, ignoring Dane and nodding towards the sideboard. "Thanks."

"Noah?" Thorne asks, raising a brow at me.

I shake my head. "No, thank you."

Actually, despite the fact that I really don't drink at all, I find I'd like to rather badly right now. Instead, I follow Dane's lead.

Thorne shrugs and pours two glasses of the fiery amber liquid, handing one to Julian and taking the other for himself. Then he settles back in a chair that matches mine; unlike me, though, he looks at home in it: relaxed and confident and, as ever, slightly amused.

"Now," he says, "what was it that you wanted to know?"

"What were you doing at Barker's house tonight?" Dane asks, leaning forward slightly.

The corner of Thorne's mouth lifts a fraction. "Attending a party, to which I was invited, of course."

Dane growls. "Don't play games with me, you cocky son-of-a-bitch. Answer the damn question."

If anything, Thorne looks like he's enjoying himself. "I believe I just did, Mr. Hunter" he says. "Perhaps you should ask another."

Restraining his temper with an obvious effort, Dane asks, "Why were you at Barker's party?"

"Because I was curious," Thorne answers, "about several things, actually—not least of which was how your boys here would fare. Not well, as it turns out." He lifts a shoulder and takes a sip of his drink.

Something squeaks.

With a jolt of embarrassment, I realize it's me. I can't stand tension, and it's been building steadily ever since Dane arrived.

Now he's leaning forward, fists clenched, shoulders bunched in knots, and a wolfish snarl on his lips. I hope Thorne knows what he's playing with, because an enraged alpha is no joke.

Then Julian sighs, downs his drink in one gulp, presses himself close to Dane and whispers something in his ear. I don't know if he's using some fae trick or not, but Dane relaxes and turns towards him with a far different look in his eyes.

"Later," Julian murmurs, and kisses his shoulder before sitting back.

Thorne laughs, soft and low. "What a strange thing, love is," he says.

Dane makes an unmistakably inhuman sound, but Thorne's smile only widens.

"Relax, detective," he says. "I'll tell you everything you want to know. You just haven't asked the right questions yet. Perhaps we ought to give the little wolf a try?" He turns towards me, eyes lit with secret fire.