Page 69 of The Monsters We Are
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Standing under the hot spray, Wynter looked down at the dust sliding toward the drain. Yeah, it turned out that notallthe sand had been plucked from her hair. Washing it away was proving to be a bitch. It clung to her worse than any beach sand. She’d had to shampoo her hair three times and condition it twice before she could be sure it was free of grit.
At least the grains were no longer in her mouth or eyes. Also, her throat felt better, thanks to the herbal tea Delilah had made the moment they returned home. It tasted like ass, but it also did its job well.
Once out of the shower, Wynter dried herself off, pulled on some clothes, and then tackled the wet mop on her head with a brush and hairdryer. Done, she headed down to the kitchen.
The coven sat at the table, all now clean and chatting amongst themselves. Wynter only distantly noted them, though. Her attention was snagged by the tall, lean figure standing off to the side.Cain.
Azazel was also present, and he was focused on Anabel, who was currently demonstrating that it wasn’t possible for a person to lick their own elbow. The Ancient didn’t appear to know what to make of her. But then, most didn’t.
Wynter walked straight into Cain’s arms, humming in satisfaction when he curled them tight around her. “You’re here.”
“Just this moment arrived. I expected to find you in our chamber.” And he seemed so very confused that things hadn’t gone his way.
She felt her lips twitch. “What can I say? I like keeping you on your toes. I also badly needed one of Delilah’s nifty teas. My throat was raw from the storm. How’s yours?”
He gave her neck a soothing rub. “Fine. I wasn’t caught in the storm long, and I dealt with it quickly.”
Wynter licked her lips and then asked the question that had been gnawing at her. “Those people who were lying on the ground . . . were they dead?”
Cain’s expression turned dark. “Three were. The others were out cold.”
She closed her eyes. “Fuck. I really, really, really,reallyhate the Aeons. I’m guessing none were caught.”
“They fled too quickly,” he confirmed. “Adam would have ordered them to retreat once any Ancients intervened—he won’t want us eating into more of his numbers.”
Tough, because they’d be “eating” all of his people very soon. She refused to believe that the Ancients’ attempts to pierce the prison wouldn’t be successful.
Twisting in her chair, Hattie eyed Azazel from head to toe. “You strike me as a worldly man. Have you ever eaten hair pie? Apparently it’s an exotic delicacy of some kind.”
Oh, for the love of all that’s holy.
Azazel fought a smile and looked over at Cain, who was doing the same.
Wynter gave both Ancients a narrow-eyed “It’s not funny” look.
Delilah seemed to agree, since she’d ducked her head with a groan. Similarly, Anabel had shoved her face in her hands while cursing softly.
Xavier, on the other hand, chuckled like an idiot and then turned to Wynter. “See, this is what happens when we neglect to share important details with her.”
Sighing, Wynter tipped her chin toward the old woman and then told Xavier, “Take her aside and quietly explain before she presses Azazel for more info.”
Grinning, Xavier nodded, urged Hattie out of her seat, and then pulled her to the corner of the room.
Cain squeezed Wynter’s nape. “She’s an . . . interesting woman.”
Delilah snorted. “She’s a menace.”
“And completely shameless,” added Anabel. “Which I think is why she and Xavier are so in tune with each other—he’s no better.”
“I heard that,” he said as he and Hattie broke apart.
The old woman shuffled over to the table. “I can’t believe none of you told me the truth. I need to know about such slang. You know I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of George by looking clueless.”
Anabel’s nose wrinkled. “I hardly think he’s going to use that term, like,ever.”
“Perhaps not, but you still should’ve explained,” said Hattie. “It’s not like I would have fainted like some unworldly maiden. Though, yes, it’s disgusting that some people put pubic hairs in their pies.”