Page 69 of Of Flame and Fury

She glides back to me. “Aren’t they more technologically advanced? There aren’t any buttons or knobs.”

“It’s more of an enchanted Japanese toilet. It senses your needs and rinses you accordingly. It’s what the witches like to call classy.”

Emme laughs a little. “I’m not certain classy is a term Genevieve would use.”

It’s good to see Emme’s sweet smile. “No, but it works here,” I say.

The bathroom seems bigger than it should. I use Sparky to push back the gossamer curtain that I think marks the end of the room, only to realize it leads to another larger room.

Several glass saunas line the far wall, and massage tables covered with thick bedding poke through a small room just beyond.

“Hmph. I guess this is a spa,” I say. “Vieve went all out redoing her new digs. So, what’s up with you and Bren?”

“Pardon?” she asks.

Emme’s demeanor shifts at the mention of his name. “Emme, I know you heard me,” I say. “Have you kissed him?”

Bren admitted as much, except Emme didn’t, and I need to hear it from her. The pause that follows tells me more than she needs to.

“We have.”

“Emme, Bren has been more family than a friend. He’s the last wolf you should kiss.”

“He was never just family, not to me.”

My gaze falls briefly to the ground. “How long has this been going on?”

“It hasn’t.” She wipes her hands on her dress. “I always thought he was cute and was attracted to him right away. But I was twenty then, and he was older.”

I’m almost afraid to ask. “Did something happen back then between you?” Please say no. Please. I don’t want to kill Bren.

“I asked him out on a date,” Emme admits. “That night when we cooked our first holiday dinner at the house. He and Danny came over and celebrated with us. Do you remember?” At my gaze, her irises cloud over as time takes her back. “After dinner, Bren played his guitar and sang a song just for me.”

That night appears so clear to me then. We’d prepared all our favorite dishes and invited Danny. He asked if he could bring his buddy and roommate, Bren.

I remember the song, “Make You Feel My Love.” Emme requested it, and Bren made it his own, his deep voice falling into a subtle country twang. He did sing the song just for Emme. I don’t tell her it was solely because she requested it and because she was our little sister and he was trying to be nice.

“He flirted with all of us, Emme.” I glance at the floor. The stone appears darker here. “It’s just what he does.”

“Maybe,” she says. “I just remember it made me feel special.”

Emme was so young then for twenty, and innocent despite her years even having just graduated nursing school at the top of her class. “Did you go out together?” I kick at the tile, wishing it was Bren’s face. I know where this is going.

“No,” she admits. She stops in the room and faces me. “He laughed hard enough to spit out his beer.”

“Wow.” I know what that must have done to her.

“You’re just a kid, he told me.” She laughs without humor. “And I was. But I’m not a kid anymore.” Her lips press together. “And now he knows it.”

I just about hurl. “Good Gawd. Youhaveslept with him, haven’t you?” My voice is no longer soft. It’s stern as it gets when worry tarnishes it.

In the flickering candlelight, I see the flood of tears gathering in her eyes. “Some things are better left unsaid,” she tells me. “Even to your sisters.”

I’m sad to hear her say this. We’ve always told each other everything. Granted, Ceel and I were always a little closer, having to raise our sisters and take on more responsibility. Except Shayna and Emme were tighter too. They could stay young a little longer. Ceel and I were forced to grow up early to keep our family together. Still, through heartbreak and laughter, we always stood as one.

Or so I thought.

I hug her tight, forcing myself to let go. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, Emme. I just wish you’d tell someone.”