“Scotty won’t know. He is sleeping,” Beth assured him. “The first pain-free sleep he’s had in days now that the worst of the healing is done.”
Beth had “put Scotty to sleep” several times since the day they’d woken up after the fire. And while at first the start of each time had been terribly painful, she’d kept at it because it had worked, and had ended with the sought-for results . . . the unconsciousness that followed release. Well, not that she hadn’t felt the pleasure too and passed out. Beth might not have enjoyed the start of the first few sessions, but she had the end . . . too much. The last two days had been spent completely in bed with him. Scotty had slept for hours after that first time she’d tried to ease his pain and lull him into the unconsciousness that followed life mate sex. He’d done the same after the second, and had healed a good deal during those first two rests. By her third effort, she had noticed that his pain wasn’t nearly as bad, and the whole exercise was much more pleasurable for both from the beginning.
By the fourth time, his face had cleared up enough that he could kiss her, and Scotty had been the one to initiate the life mate sex. He’d also initiated the fifth and sixth time, stirring her awake with passionate kisses and caressing hands. Beth had woken first the seventh time, though, and noting that his expression in sleep was relaxed and pain-free, but that he was terribly pale, she’d realized they’d been neglecting food and blood. Scotty needed both to finish healing, so she’d snuck below and fetched cheese and crackers—the only things non-vegetable in the house.
Beth had taken her booty back to the room to wake Scotty with an offering of that and the blood she fetched from the refrigerator in their room. They’d spent the day eating, chatting, laughing, and making love.
Beth had woken up first again this last time, and she’d rolled over and just stared at Scotty for the longest time . . . until she’d realized she had a goofy smile on her face and was thinking a bunch of ridiculous things about what they should do today, tomorrow, next week. She was falling for the bastard, Beth had realized with alarm. She was falling for him and planning a future with the man when she didn’t even know if there was a future for her with him. Certainly he hadn’t said anything to suggest there was.
Stunned at how stupid she was turning out to be in the romance department, Beth had slid from bed. After quickly throwing on the clothes Sam had left on the chair for her, she’d come below to find Magnus and Mortimer in the office and demanded she be allowed to leave the house for a bit. And—thank God—they were going to allow it. Or, Mortimer was going to allow it and Magnus was reluctantly going along with it, Beth thought as she followed him out the back door.
They walked to the garage in silence, and then Beth led the way in when Magnus opened the door for her. She nearly crashed into Odilia and Rickart.
“Sorry,” she said, jerking back to avoid the collision, and stomped on Magnus’s foot and bumped into his chest instead.
There was a moment when they all laughed, and then Rickart said, “It is good to see you up, Beth. How is Scotty doing?”
“Much better. He’ll probably be up and about in another hour or so himself,” she assured him, and then turned to offer a tentative smile to Odilia and said, “Thank you for the flowers. That was very kind of you.”
Looking embarrassed, Odilia shrugged. “I thought it might brighten up the room a bit and give you something to look at other than four walls.”
Beth smiled. “Well, thank you. They are beautiful.”
“So?” Rickart glanced from her to Magnus. “What are you two doing?”
“Beth wants clothes from her apartment and takeout,” Magnus said dryly. “So I am driving her.”
“Is that—I mean, should she—Would it not be better—”
“Mortimer okayed it,” Magnus said, ending Rickart’s struggle. “In fact, he suggested I bring some takeout for everyone. Any requests?”
“Not for me,” Odilia said at once, slipping past them. “I am just off shift and ready for a nice soak and some sleep. But thank you,” she added, stepping outside and heading for the cars parked in front of the garage.
“Rickart?” Magnus asked.
Beth glanced to the other Enforcer with surprise. She’d thought him older, like Magnus and Scotty, but if he ate, he couldn’t be, she thought as he hesitated.
“I will accompany you and think on the way,” he said finally. “In fact, we can take my car.”
“Good man,” Magnus murmured and followed him outside, ushering Beth with a hand at her back.
“Nice car. Not sure about the color, but I like the shape,” Beth said as he led them to a mustard-yellow Mustang.
“I was going to rent one in lightning blue, but didn’t want Odilia to think I was copying her,” Rickart said, speaking with exaggerated volume. Presumably so Odilia could hear.
“Ha ha! Just get it over with and admit you are color-blind,” Odilia taunted him through the open window of the next car over.
Beth smiled as she looked over the metallic-blue Mercedes sedan the woman was starting, and said, “I think I like hers better.”
“Oh, Dear God, you are breaking my heart,” Rickart exclaimed, opening the front passenger door for her. “This is a Mustang. There is no better car than this.”
“If you say so,” she said, settling into the passenger seat. Rickart closed the door for her, and Beth waved out the window when Odilia honked and pulled away. But they were soon following her down the driveway.
Beth sat silent and patient as they headed out of the gates and turned onto the road. She even managed to keep her mouth shut for the first ten minutes of the drive, but finally she couldn’t stand it anymore and said, “I notice you seem to know where I live.”
Rickart jerked his head toward her and then glanced to Magnus in the back seat before facing forward again and muttering something unintelligible.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that,” Beth said lightly. “Was that, ‘Why yes, Beth, we all know, thanks to Magnus following you around like a dog for the last century, spying on you?’”
Rickart turned to her sharply, his jaw hanging open until Magnus said mildly, “Watch the road, Rickart.”
There was silence for a moment after Rickart turned his attention back to traffic, and then Magnus cleared his throat and asked, “Scotty told you?”
“No. Matias read it from his mind,” Beth said grimly, crossing her arms over her chest and peering out at the passing cars.
“He asked me to do that only to keep you safe,” Magnus said quietly.
“I don’t know why. He doesn’t seem to want me for his life mate,” she snapped, and then couldn’t resist asking, “Does he?”
Even Beth winced at the pitifully hopeful tone to her voice. Cripes, she was turning into one of those pathetic women who chased after men they knew ultimately didn’t want them.
“He is struggling,” Magnus said solemnly after a moment. Which meant no, he didn’t want her, Beth translated.
“Why? With what?” she asked urgently, finally turning in her seat to look at him.
Magnus hesitated and then shook his head apologetically. “I cannot tell you that. You will have to find out for yourself. But I would advise you to get him to talk about his mother.”
“His mother,” Beth muttered, and flopped back around in her seat. “It always comes down to the mother, doesn’t it?”
“Except when it comes down to the father,” he said with amusement, and Beth grimaced. She’d had her own daddy issues. No doubt Magnus was reminding her of that. But she’d sorted through those. It’d taken a hundred years, but she’d done it. It seemed, however, if she was understanding Magnus right, that after eight hundred years, Scotty still had mommy issues. Great!
“Here we are,” Rickart announced moments later as he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. “Do you want me to stay with the car? Or come up with you guys?”
Magnus didn’t hesitate. “Accompany us in case there is trouble.”