Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (9 page)

The room was enormous. Her entire apartment could easily fit inside and still have room leftover. The floors were smooth marble with wood panels along the walls and lace on the windows that filtered a stream of white light into the otherwise dismal place. A giant four poster bed took up the majority of the space with its dark wood and soft, navy blue covers. Twin nightstands sat on either side that matched the dresser and vanity on the other side of the room. Two cream colored armchairs and a sofa faced a dark fireplace. But it was the massive grand piano tucked away in the corner of the room, barely visible except where the firelight danced across the gleaming surface that caught her attention.

“Do you play?” she asked, pointing.

In the process of swinging on a black, wool coat, Octavian paused and followed her attention. “Not anymore.”

Riley frowned. “Why not?”

He stalked back to her, forcing her to stumble back out of the room. “Because.” He slammed the doors behind him. “Come on,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and starting back the way they’d come.

Curious of the man looming like an impenetrable force alongside her, Riley hurried to fall into step. They didn’t speak as they made their way back to the foyer and the glass stained doors, which, Riley found out, led outside. It had grown cooler since her arrival. The wind was edged with ice that cut upon contact. No amount of huddling beneath her coat shielded her from what was surely the cruel descent of winter.

“You don’t have to walk me the whole way,” she told the silent figure ambling along next to her as they left the dull lights of Final Judgment behind and started up the dirt path towards the highway. “It really isn’t that far. You can see my apartment if you squint really hard.”

“I don’t like squinting,” he mumbled.

“It’s a metaphorical squinting.”

“Even then.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Are you always so literal?”

He turned his head slightly to the side to peer at her. “Are you always so stubborn?”

“Yes,” she replied with just a hint of pride. “It’s one of my more redeeming qualities.”

“One of? I’m afraid to ask what the others would be.”

“Not sure you could handle the many levels of my awesomeness…” she mused.

In the dark, she could have sworn she saw a flash of a grin before the shadows swallowed it up. “I’m beginning to see that.”

“Yup,” she murmured slowly. “I’m a cocktail of all the really cool stuff.”

He snorted. “Is telling really bad jokes one of your awesome talents?”

Smothering a grin, Riley shrugged. “One of many.”

“A jack of all trades, eh? How does your husband put up with you?”

Riley barked a laugh. “Husband? How old do I look?”

Night spilled over his face, obscuring his eyes, but she felt them roam over her as he seemingly calculated her question. Then he turned his head forward. “I reserve the right not to answer.”

Riley blinked. “You what? Why?”

“Because I, unlike you, have an obscene amount of self-preservation and, regardless of what my life may be, I would like to continue living it. The last thing I need is to guess wrong and get that life shortened.” He shrugged. “I’m going with the female book of ethics on this one.”

“The female…” She shook her head slowly, chuckling. “Where can I pick up this mythical book? And I do too have self-preservation. In fact, if we were attacked at this moment, I would totally use you to slow them down while I make my escape.”

“Well, I certainly feel safer being with you.”

They lapsed into a comfortable sort of silence the rest of the way, her mind blank from exhaustion. Their combined footfalls crunched on brittle leaves. She let the sound serenade them through the deserted street. The walk ended at her front steps. Riley fished through her purse for her keys and turned to Octavian with them in her hands.

“Thank you for walking me,” she said.

He inclined his head, all business once more. “My pleasure. Goodnight, Ms. Masters.”

Riley grimaced. “It’s Riley.”

He was silent for a moment too long before he spoke, his voice a low, gruff murmur. “Riley.”

Inexplicably, giddy in a way that was completely insane, Riley cleared her throat and turned away. “Goodnight.”

He didn’t move until she’d opened the apartment doors and slipped inside. When she glanced back, he was gone.

Damn rain!

Like the traitorous snake it was, it had waited until she was too far on her way to work before coming down in a steady patter, soaking her clothes and ruining her makeup. No amount of keeping her head down and her pace brisk saved her from the cold, damp assault. It was because of her own personal dark cloud hovering so close that her sixth sense wasn’t quick enough to pick up on the change around her until the loud
thwack
split the night. Riley yelped in fright. Her foot skidded on a patch of mud and she just caught herself as she whipped around.

A figure brandishing an umbrella over his head, strolled up behind her at a leisurely pace.

“I’m sorry,” the owner of the umbrella said, as he came up alongside her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Squinting through the rain, Riley shook her head. “It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention.” The edge of the umbrella lifted and she gasped as she recognized the pale, familiar face. “Gideon? Where did you come from?”

He grinned with perfectly straight teeth. “Here, there.” He shrugged. “I’m like the wind… everywhere. Are you perchance headed to work?”

Riley couldn’t remember the last time anyone asked her anything using the word
perchance
, but she answered, “Yes, and this rain is making me late, so…”

Without waiting for him, she ducked her head and hurried onward. She made it four steps when the rain suddenly stopped. Not stopped from falling, but stopped from falling on her.

“Would you mind if I joined you in the walk?” He was back, walking effortlessly alongside her with his long gait, his umbrella wielding hand between them, seamlessly canopying both of them from the cold. “It’s a rare thing meeting another soul on this stretch of road.”

Riley slanted him a sidelong glance from the corner of her eye. He held himself with grace, shoulders squared, spine stiff, like not even the foul weather could deter him. As far as his brothers went, he always struck her as someone that belonged in a parlor, sipping brandy from a crystal goblet, which was amusing once you looked past his face to the rest of him.

He wore shiny, leather pants beneath a long, equally shiny leather duster. Maybe that’s why the rain wasn’t bothering him, she mused. He had on a rain repelling outfit.

“Is that comfortable?” she asked, nodding towards him with her chin. “I would think leather would only make you colder.”

He cocked his head in her direction. “Is that what you think?” He turned forward, brows pursed as though in deliberation. “Interesting.”

Riley frowned, disliking his condescending tone. “What is?”

His lips tweaked upwards at the corners. “That you’ve never worn leather before.”

At the entrance of Final Judgment, he gallantly swept open the doors and ushered her in with a theatrical bow. Riley snickered as she passed him, peeling away the uncomfortably damp material of her coat from her body. Gideon shook out his umbrella and swept it closed before following her inside and shutting the door behind them.

Someone had lit a blazing fire in the hearth in the center of the room and it was painting delicate brush strokes of crimson and gold across the walls. Without pausing, Riley went to it, thrusting her hands as close to the flames as possible without burning. She fluffed a hand through her damp tresses, fighting hard to keep her teeth from chattering as the warm swirl of air tried to chase away the chill creeping into her bones.

“Ah home!” he declared, propping his umbrella up alongside the door and joining her by the fire. “Let the slave driving commence!”

Riley laughed. “You are probably the strangest person I have ever met.”

Gideon blinked eyes that were so much like Octavian’s she momentarily forgot herself. “Only the strangest? Not the most handsome or charming or witty?”

“I reserve the right not to answer.”

He huffed incredulously. “Then I reserve the right to refrain from being handsome, charming and witty until you do!”

Shaking her head, Riley opened her mouth to answer when the kitchen doors smacked open and Octavian charged out looking like he was prepared to take on a flock of demons. His features took on a mask of surprise when he caught sight of Riley and Gideon by the fire. His gray eyes shot to Riley almost instantly and darkened.

Gone was the cold, the heat, the room, Gideon and even the air. Everything around them shimmered like heat waves coming off the dessert floor. Riley felt the singe of every second mark every breath she attempted to claim, but breathing was breathing him, drawing him into her veins like a fast acting drug, like taking a reckless swig of vodka on an empty stomach. He went straight to her head and through her body with a sharp burn that left her heady and blissfully lax.

“Hello dear brother!” Gideon shattered the moment by throwing his arms open wide as though expecting an embrace from the figure standing not five feet from them. “Were you waiting for us? You shouldn’t have, not when I can see how busy you’ve been.”

The sarcasm went over Octavian’s head for a moment as he stared at his brother like he’d lost his mind. Gradually, it seemed to dawn on him as he glanced at the emptiness of the room.

“Where have you been?” he asked instead, but his gaze went to Riley again, drawn like he couldn’t quite stop staring.

“Here, there.” Gideon waved his hands in circular motion. “Everywhere.”

Painfully conscious of her wet clothes and the rain dripping from the ends of her hair, Riley tucked a coil behind her ear and turned to the fire, her cheeks rosy from the cold and the glint in Octavian’s eyes. She twisted her hair in her hands, wringing out the water before using her fingers to comb out the knots left behind, all the while feeling her every movement watched. It took a great deal of effort not to give in and look. But she managed to toss her hair over her shoulder, shrug out of her jacket and start towards the kitchen without glancing at the man who was making himself impossible to ignore. She made it all the way to the staff room.

“You’re late!”

Riley whipped around, surprised that he’d followed her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It hadn’t been raining when I left and—”

“My fault.” Gideon ambled into the room and dumped his lean frame into a chair. “I kept Ms. Masters with my mindless ramblings. Don’t be cross with her.”

Octavian glowered at his brother. “What are you doing here, Gideon? Don’t you have other things to do?”

Gideon beamed, drumming his fingers on the table. “Why, I’m hurt. Must I need a reason to drop by on my day off and visit my brother?”

The annoyance on Octavian’s face was nearly comical, if not a bit frightening, even if it wasn’t directed at her.

“All right. All right!” Gideon threw up his hands. “You’ve caught me. I’m here to flirt shamelessly with our lovely new waitress. Go on.” He held up his wrists. “Throw me into the naughty cage. I won’t fight. I deserve a good spanking.” He glanced at Riley, wiggled his eyebrows. “Care to don a French maid’s uniform and do the honors?”

It was probably the wrong thing to do, encouraging him, but Riley couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but the damage had been done. Both men were watching her now, Gideon with a grin and Octavian with a look of someone very close to committing bodily harm to another person.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s very hard to believe you two are related.”

“Don’t we look related?” Gideon grinned mischievously.

“No,” she said honestly. “You look nothing alike and you don’t act alike either.”

Gideon chuckled. “That’s because I was blessed with all the charm, grace and handsome features of a gentleman while Octavian… well, he got the foul disposition of an ogre.” He smirked when she laughed.