41. Chapter 41
Chapter 41
Cedric
I pocket my phone after texting with Faye, making sure everything is in place.
Marcus’s laugh takes me out of my thoughts, and when I look over my shoulder, I see him engaged in charming the baker, no enthralling required. Despite our father’s ideas, Marcus has always had the uncanny ability to make himself at home anywhere, whether he’s happy about it or not. It might be the smile perpetually etched into his face or the easy way he moves, as if the world belongs to him.
And Fern Port is apparently not immune.
He keeps introducing himself to the townspeople, who shake his hands enthusiastically and ask him whether he was born in some northern European country, frowning when they realize we are brothers.
“Half brothers, but it’s just a blood thing,” Marcus always says with a wink. I barely restrain an eye roll at the word play, and wonder if any of them have him figured out already, my speech from earlier being utterly ignored.
“Are you going to behave tonight?” I ask him as he enjoys his morning ice cream.
He shoots me a look behind gold-rimmed photochromic lenses. “Contrary to popular belief, Ced, I can be good.”
“I know that, but tonight is important,” I say, straightening my shirt.
Marcus’s eyes go wide, the raspberry scoop inching precariously close to the edge of the cone. “Are you telling me you haven’t–”
“What we have done is none of your business,” I say, stopping in the street. “In case you forgot, I’m supposed to be leaving tomorrow. As in, I might never see her again. I need tonight to count.”
Marcus nods, expression sobering. “I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he says, drawing out the vowel. “I’ll keep to my handsome patch of earth.”
“I’m not going to tell you that handsome is not the type of adjective you can associate with–”
“You already did,” he groans as we resume our walk beneath the shade of the shops’ porch. When we get closer to Myrta’s, I steer Marcus in one of the adjacent narrow streets instead. It might sound ridiculous, but the thought of seeing Delilah before tonight… You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but the truth is, she has cut me open.
And I don’t want to bleed out before her.
Delilah
“Chains?”
“Check,” Faye says, lazily ticking it off the list I always write in preparation of Full Moon Day.
I know she’s not-so-secretly annoyed at me for not typing it on my phone’s notes instead, but the swipe of the pencil on its designated square makes me feel marginally better. Like there is something I have under control.
“Both sizes?”
“Yep.”
“Earphones?”
“Oui.”
“Handcuf–right, those are in my bag,” I say, biting on one of my fingernails. The memory of Cedric’s dark eyes at their mention is still swimming in my mind, while the thought he might have used them on me sends a shiver skateboarding up my spine. I press my fingers to my lips as I recall the feeling of Cedric’s on my own. On my neck. Everywhe–
“Oh my god, would you keep your horny thoughts to yourself?”
“I haven’t said a word!”
“You didn’t have to,” she says with a knowing look. It seems I’m easier to read than a children’s book and maybe it should bother me, but it doesn’t. I like the idea that Cedric knows he makes my heart gallop in my chest just from the way I look at him. I do like less that thoughts of, well, a different nature seem equally obvious, but–
“ Lila !”
“Sorry! Punchbag?”
“Yes, given it’s tied to the ceiling.”
“You know, you could be a little less snarky on your best friend’s birthday,” I say, batting my eyelashes.
“I woke up at seven for my best friend’s birthday. Know your limits,” she says with a smirk.
I smile back, resisting the urge to affectionately squeeze the life out of her. “I guess that’s it,” I hum, crossing my arms as I lean on the kitchen counter.
“Should we come up with a signal for tonight?”
“For what?”
“For whenever you and Cedric want to sneak off to your bedroom.”
“You think I’d do that while there’s people over?”
“They’ll be too busy trying to steal my lemon cakes anyway,” Faye shrugs.
I shake my head, exhaling a laugh. The thought of how drastically things are going to change in the next couple of days slithers in my mind, and I take a deep breath to steel myself. If I decide to tell Cedric the truth tonight and he comes to the conclusion it’s too much for him…He’s supposed to leave at least a few hours before anything happens to me tomorrow, so I suppose that’s a consolation, in some small, wicked way. If by some miracle he decides his feelings for me haven’t changed after I’ve told him, then that’s another thing entirely. It sounds like I’m going to lose something either way, but if anything, I’ll be able to keep him safe if he knows he needs to stay away .
“Hey,” Faye says, searching for my gaze that must have grown distant. “It’ll be fine.”
I nod, though I can never, ever be sure. I smile, though there has never been so much at stake. If thinking about Cedric finding out makes me itchy with worry, the mental image of him finding out because something went wrong, because he was too close when I Turned, because I hurt him? It’s devastating in a way I can hardly comprehend.
“Yeah,” I say as Blaine grumbles at Faye’s feet for a taste of her breakfast muffin. “It’ll be fine.”