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him.

    Connor and I sat in silence for a few minutes after Travis pulled the front door shut before he said, “You know he was totally lying, right?”
    “About going to the lab?” I asked with an arched brow.
    “Yeah.”
    “Yep,” I agreed before turning back toward the TV, and taking another sip of my ale. “Because The Embassy labs don’t reopen until Monday.”
    “So where do you think he’s actually going?” Connor asked, the curiosity nearly overtaking the suspicion in his voice.
    “To see Nualla,” I answered, my voice devoid of emotion.
    “Oh,” Connor said in an uneasy voice. A few long moments passed in awkward silence before he asked hesitantly, “Uh…Patrick, are you okay?”
    I’m not sure how he had managed it, but Connor had spent the last several hours not asking about the fact that I wasn’t living with my wife. But apparently, that was only because Travis had been here too.
    “Connor, I stopped being ‘okay’ somewhere between my parents being murdered and stabbing my wife,” I answered deadpan.
    “Oh…” he replied nervously before taking a sip of his ale. A second or two passed and then he spit it out. “ Wait ! You did what ?!”
    I didn’t look at him, I just kept my eyes fixed firmly on nothing and tipped the rest of the ale down my throat. I looked at the empty bottle in my hand for a moment before I said in a quiet voice, “If you’d like to stop being my friend now, just say the word. I won’t hold it against you.” And then I finally looked at him.
    Connor looked back at me for a long moment before he stood. “I think you need something stronger than crappy ale, because you are going to tell me what the fuck has been going on.”
    “The good tequila’s in the first cabinet on the left,” I said as I leaned my head back on the top of the couch. Tonight was going to be a very, very long night.

We Need to Talk
    Thursday, November 1st

    NUALLA

    I slumped against the bathroom wall and smoothed my hair back. I was shaking badly and my shirt was drenched with sweat.
    Gods, I didn’t think I had been drinking that much lately. Maybe I had the stomach flu or something, because this had been the third time in the past week. Weeks. Nine weeks…
    “Oh fuck !”
    I counted backward in my head, but I was nearly one hundred percent sure. It had been nine weeks since we had been in Hawaii and—
    Someone moaned softly from the other room.
    I turned my head slowly toward the bathroom door. This couldn’t be happening. It was like a bad dream.
    Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up. I said over and over again in my head, but the biting coldness of the stone against my legs told me I was already awake.
    “Oh double fuck !”
    I gritted my teeth, and stood up on shaking legs. Because hoping that the rest of the world would disappear if I just kept sitting here wouldn’t make it happen.
    I crept out of the hotel bathroom and through the bedroom. Please don’t be that dark-haired guy. Please don’t be that dark-haired guy. Please don’t be that dark-haired guy.
    I peered out the bedroom door into the front room, my heart thudding so hard against my breast bone I thought I might throw up again. But the person passed out on the couch didn’t have dark hair. Instead, a tangle of pale golden-blond hair spilled across dusky dark blue horns and cream colored skin with just a tinge of warm honey to it.
    Travis.
    “Oh thank the gods ,” I breathed as I slumped against the door frame of the bedroom door.
    Travis suddenly sat bolt upright so violently he nearly fell off the couch. He looked around the room with startled eyes, breathing heavy until he saw me, and then he visibly relaxed.
    “Hey,” he said in a breathless huff like he had been running a marathon.
    “Hey,” I replied in a shaking voice, equally startled.
    “What time is it?” Travis asked as he ran both his hands down his face.
    “Early.”
    “What time is ‘early’?” he asked, as he peeked at me