Four-Letter Words Evans, Gabrielle (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

Well, that wasn’t strictly true, but since he’d gotten his way, Thane decided not to argue and just enjoy the short reprieve he’d been given. The topic of Zasha’s return to Snake River wasn’t dead, but Thane was going to do everything he could to keep the vampire where he belonged—right by his side.

Chapter Three

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Thane squinted up at Zasha. “What?”

“Raith and October are here, and they’ve brought a guest with them.”

Thane was too tired for riddles. “They’re having a threesome?”

“No, pervert. They brought this tiny little thing of a vampire named Kaito. He’s four.”

“Where did they find a kid?” Thane wasn’t opposed to children. He loved when Wren called him Uncle Thane, and the boy was too cute for words. He just never envisioned himself having children of his own.

“You’re being judgmental,” Zasha accused. Then he smacked Thane on the shoulder and rose to his feet beside the mattress. “Get dressed. I want to see our guests.”

“Your enthusiasm is annoying.” He missed Raith since the guy had moved away to live with his mate. Hell, he was even glad the big idiot had come to visit. Until he had coffee in his hands, however, everyone needed to keep the happiness to a minimum. “Coffee,” he mumbled. “Need coffee.”

“Nope. You know what the doctor said about that.”

“Why do you hate me?” He finally managed to get his eyes open, and he stared up at his mate in accusation. “I don’t remember him saying that I can’t have coffee. That’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t hate you, and it’s not ridiculous. Now, get your skinny ass up and put some clothes on. Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Fine, but you’re going to have to curb the perkiness. You’re making my head hurt.” Shoving the covers back, he pushed into a sitting position and rubbed both hands over his face. “What time is it anyway?”

“Would you like to tell me what bug crawled up your ass?” Zasha crossed his arms over his chest and lifted both eyebrows.

“No.” He’d barely slept in the past forty-eight hours. Each time he attempted to doze, his nightmares would wake him like a slap across the face with a two-by-four. Worse, were the times he couldn’t wake up, and the scene of Zasha’s murder would replay on a constant loop until Thane thought he’d go mad from it.

“That’s nice. Tell me anyway.”

And the guy thought he was stubborn. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

He couldn’t exactly tell Zasha that he’d been having dreams about the man’s death. There were subtle differences in each reenactment, minor tweaks like pieces to a puzzle that just wouldn’t fit. They were small things, like a lapse in time, the lack of water in his prison, or the height from which his mate fell.

Sometimes Zasha spoke to him in these nightmares. Sometimes he was silent. Once, Thane had been sitting in the mud. In the next retelling, he was crouched in a corner—strange since the well was circular. They were silly things, oddities that most people wouldn’t even notice. To Thane, however, they raised a dozen red flags and sounded alarm bells his head.

He couldn’t tell Zasha any of that, though.

“Fine.” Zasha didn’t sound like anything was “fine,” however. “Get dressed.” He tossed a pair of jeans from the closet at Thane’s head and turned back to grab three different shirts. “I like the green one. Your hair is darker when it’s short. I think green would look good.”

Thane rubbed at his spiky locks and frowned. During his captivity, the strands had flowed down to his shoulders and lightened to a golden honey. As his body deteriorated, however, his hair had become dull and brittle. The length had been a side effect of imprisonment and nothing more. He’d always preferred his hair short, though for whatever reason, it did look more brown than blond at the current length.

“Earth to Thane,” Zasha called, shaking the green pullover sweater at him. “Yes or no?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Figuring he’d pissed Zasha off enough for one day—and he’d only been awake for five minutes—Thane rose from the bed and dressed without comment. Why the color of his shirt was so damn important, he couldn’t fathom, but whatever got Zasha off his back was fine by him.

He remained silent as they navigated the corridor to the staircase. He didn’t even say anything when Zasha wrapped an arm around his waist to help him up the steps. It had been weeks since he’d needed any type of assistance getting from one place to another, but again, he didn’t want to start an argument.

As they ascended the stairs, Raith’s deep baritone reached his ears. Thane wasn’t sure who his brother was talking to, but he understood that he was the topic of conversation. Closer to the point, they seemed to be talking about his relationship with Zasha.

Entering the main part of the house from the basement, he stepped into the living room where everyone appeared to be gathered. Raith sat on the sofa next to his mate, not even trying to keep his voice down or be discreet.

“Zasha is a big boy. He knows what he needs to do to stay healthy.”

First, it was Zasha. Now, it was Raith. He couldn’t help but wonder who else thought him incapable of providing for his partner. “I’m not so helpless that I can’t take care of my mate.”

He’d have liked to march into the room with his shoulders back and his chest out. To his disgruntlement, however, Zasha’s arm tightened around his waist, and he refused to let go until he’d assisted Thane into one of the armchairs.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“I’ve got it,” Thane answered, keeping his voice low for only Zasha to hear.

Either Zasha missed the steel in his tone, or he was ignoring it. Either way, he eased down on the arm of the chair with a huge grin. “He’s a damn fool. From what I understand, it runs in his blood.”

Several agreements from