Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Did she just throw me with a pillow? The minx

Luckily, due to my inhuman speed, catching it before it gets close to my face is a breeze. Also, I remembered to grab it with my right arm because if I had used my left, she would have immediately suspected foul play about my “injury.”

She tilts her head, a perplexed look coming over her face, and then says, “Dude, that was weirdly fast.”

“Was it?” is the only answer she gets from me in an unbothered tone, like she’s the crazy one.

ne to c

come up with a response, so I move on as if nothing happened.

She’s struggling

Placing the

e pillow on the seat beside me, I slowly get up and ask, “Mind telling me where your bathroom 147′′

That seems to shake her from her brain fog as she says, “Before I let you wander my house, I should probably know your name.”

Ah, yes. I’ve been calling her mine subconsciously until now, so her real name might help when we are amongst other mortals. “You can call me Thane,” I say, walking towards the living room door, intent on seeking the bathroom on my own if she’s unwilling to tell me where it is.

“Thane,” she repeats. I am immediately frozen to the spot. Until now, it’s been nothing but a word, something for those very close to me to call me by. But now, when she, my mate, says my name, it’s like a prayer, a benediction, and a veneration all rolled into one. I cannot wait for the day she screams it as I’m inside her, claiming her as mine.

Taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart, not wanting to scare her with what she’s awakening in me, I glance over my shoulder at her and ask, “And yours, Little Menace?”

“Harley,” she answers bluntly, clearly irritated by the nickname I gave her, which makes me smirk.

“Like the Harley Texts linked to Nika, the Sun God, which tells the story of the three worlds Flames, Breath, and Chaos? How fitting for someone like her who unintentionally embodies the different worlds perfectly.

Her mouth opens in surprise before asking, “What are you, some mythological aficionado?”

Smirking at her, I answer without inflection, “I’ve been around long enough that mythology and all things supernatural intrigue me.”

Rolling her eyes at me, she mouths o steam engines by then?”

off, “Around long enough? Did you have horses instead of cars when you were born, or were you at least on

che thinks she’s teasing me but has no idea how right she is. If only she knew the things I’ve seen. The things I’ve done. The things I’ve lost.

With a deadpan expression, I answer her while walking toward the stairs, “Something like that.”

“It’s the first door on your left as you get up there,” she hollers at me, presumably about the location of the bathroom.

Her stairs creak with every second step I take, and the banister is rickety as shit. She obviously has no regard for her own safety.

The bathroom is small, with a tub–shower combo that wouldn’t fit an average-:

my–six–foot–four–inch frame. The toilet is man, let alone jammed next to the sink, consisting of only a pedestal. Her toiletries are stored in a caddy that’s hanging inside the shower. How does anyone live like this? It’s downright claustrophobic.

When I try to close the door behind me, it doesn’t align with the doorframe, causing it to stand ajar. I could technically use my strength to force the door into place, but that’ll open a whole can of worms I don’t think she’s ready for yet.

Inush the toilet as soon as I finish my business, but the sound of a growling hell monster reverberates from the walls. It takes me a few seconds to realize the noise is caused by the building’s old pipes that are moaning and groaning at me. Fates, has this wowan never heard of a plumber before?

Stepping from the bathroom, the curiosity train is riding me hard to take a peek into her bedroom. But, even though I’m a brute, I’m still gentleman, and I won’t enter a woman’s bedroom without her explicit invitation. And she will invite me in. And soon.

Walking downstairs, I hear her humming to herself from the direction of the kitchen. Prowling through the living room, I stop in the archway. lean against its frame, cross my arms and feet, and enjoy the sight that awaits me.

1/2

My Little Menace is standing with her back to me; her hips are swaying seductively from side to side while she hums a tune I’m unfamiliar with. She’s completely lost in a world of her own making, and I can’t tear my eyes from her. Goddess, she’s beautiful!

There’s a subtle undertone of vanilla that enhances the predominant jasmine essence to new heights. The smell reminds me of my time spent in Myanmar, or Burma, as it was referred to back in the day. During those couple of decades, I explored the many cultures of the country located to the northwest of Thailand. I learned new cuisines, enjoyed their beautiful women, and eliminated some formidable adversaries while on their

But, standing here, basking in her unfiltered uniqueness, cannot compare to those years that now seem pretty dull, hollow, and empty.

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