“Solange leaned back against the wall, bored. “Are you done yet?”“Hell no,” Lucy said. She’d left nose prints on the glass. Nicholas smirked up at her. She blushed. “Ooops. Busted.”“I told you they could hear your heartbeat,” Solange said.“Even from up here.”“I can’t help it. Even if they all know they’re pretty and are insufferably arrogant,” she added louder. “Can they hear that?”“Yes.”“Good.” She glanced at me. “Yummy, right?”“I’m sure Isabeau would rather recover, not ogle my brothers,”Solange said. “You remember how stressed you were after the Hypnos?”“Please,” Lucy scoffed. “This is totally soothing.”

“Lucy said, her nose pressed to the window. “Misunderstanding. No big deal.”Solange quirked a half smile. “You might try complete sentences, Lucy.”“Can’t. Busy.”I was curious despite myself. “What are you doing?”“Drooling,” Solange explained fondly.“I totally am,” Lucy admitted, unrepentant. “Just look at them.”Lucy moved over to give me space. She was watching five of the seven Drake boys repairing the outside wall of the farmhouse, under our window.”

“Where's Lucy?" I asked the others."At the farmhouse," Nicholas said with grim satisfaction."How'd you manage that?""She's in a closet." Solange rolled her eyes.I stared at Nicholas. "You locked your girlfriend in a closet? Smooth.""She's going to eviscerate him," Quinn said cheerfully.”

“I nodded. “Where’s your hunter?” She flinched. “He went home. We thought it would be best.” Her eyes went from worried to warning. “He’s under Drake protection.” “So am I, or so I’ve been led to understand.”“Of course you are,” Lucy said, her nose pressed to the window. “Misunderstanding. No big deal.”Solange quirked a half smile. “You might try complete sentences, Lucy.”“Can’t. Busy.” I was curious despite myself. “What are you doing?” “Drooling,” Solange explained fondly.”

“(Lucy to Isabeau)"“Cool.” She tilted her head. “You don’t look crazy.”“You’re like a runaway train,” Logan groaned at her. “Can’t you shut her up?” he asked his brother pleadingly.“How?” Nicholas said somewhat helplessly.“Kiss her, you idiot.”

“„Ma'am?“She glanced up at me, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did. “Hmm? Oh, I remember you. Miss Melbourne.““Melrose,“ I corrected.“Are you sure? I could've sworn you were named after someplace in Australia.“„Well, my first name is Sydney,“ I said, not sure if I should be encouraging her.”