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“I can say no to whatever the hell I want to say no to. I’m your goddamn alpha.”
He sounded serious, but he looked… unwell. “Love?”
“Oh, come on,” he groaned, and stopped then, closing one eye, hand on the wall.
“Thank God,” Miss Singh groaned from behind him. “I need to take a moment before I vomit.”
“Miss Singh, are you—”
“Diya,” she corrected me, breathing in through her nose, then blowing the air out through her mouth. “Call me Diya.”
“Diya, do you need to sit down for a moment?”
“Do you realize how steep these steps are?”
I hadn’t, actually. They were merely the stairs I took to get to what I needed. “Are they particularly steep?”
“What’s the holdup?” Wade asked from behind Diya.
He and Avery were behind her, followed by Mr. Calvert, who had to be there as a representative of Hudson’s since I could not be in this instance, and two uniformed officers. Deacon and I were in front of her, with Mrs. Poole ahead of me and Graeme leading because he was the cyne and that was how things were done. Mrs. Poole could not help deferring to him, he was a cyne after all.
“We just need one second,” I called down to Wade.
“Oh, are we taking a moment?” Mrs. Poole asked, hand on heart, eyes closed, breathing shallow, her coloring a bit gray.
“Why is it so hot in this stairway of death?” Graeme asked me, leaning around Mrs. Poole, sounding more than a bit annoyed.
“It’s quite lovely in the winter,” I replied cheerfully.
He rolled his eyes. “How much farther?”
“Do you see the glossy, laminated poster of Mount Everest?”
“No.”
“Well, when you do, you’re near the summit,” I announced with a flourish.
He looked past me at Avery. “You were never like this.”
“Police detective,” he reminded his mate. “I suspect it tempers the optimism.”
“Don’t be mean to Sasha,” Deacon warned Graeme, even as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s the walking in circles as well as the heat that’s doing it.”
“Yes,” Diya agreed, taking off her heels. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Heels off is a marvelous notion,” Mrs. Poole agreed, removing hers as well. “Though I do not like the look of this carpeting.”
“It’s the indoor-outdoor kind,” I said helpfully.
“It’s horrid.” She turned to follow Graeme.
I looked at Deacon. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right. Don’t I look all right?”
“You look a trifle green.”
“That’s because I don’t normally live inside a blender.”
