Chapter 21 #2
I do as he asks, though I stop short. I stand close enough I’m certain I’ll be able to see whatever he wants to show me, but far enough away I won’t be affected by him.
“Closer,” he summons me.
So much for keeping my distance. Against my better judgment, I move in, my shoulder brushing his.
He points to a particular piece of stone embedded into the wall. “See this?” I nod. “What’s different about it?”
Ignoring our proximity, I scrutinize the rectangular section of rock: it looks to be the same color as all the others around it with some expected variation, and its size is similar as well. I lean in further, angling my head to the side, where I catch the edge of a shadow underneath.
“It’s raised slightly more than the rest.” Just like the hieroglyphs at the Temple of Seti I.
“Well done,” he commends. My cheeks warm. I shouldn’t blush for what amounts to him giving me a gold star for being observant—which is what I’m apparently known far and wide for—but Bes doesn’t often dole out compliments.
He knocks on it. “It’s a hidden compartment.
Most of the order members have no idea that one exists in every room, but it does.
When the order first found this place, before the blood oath seal was carved into the stone floor and the metal door installed, they were built to hide blades and poisons and all sorts of small, helpful items.”
“How do you know about them?”
He breathes out a shallow sigh. “When you’re a lonely child in a place meant for adults, you endeavor to keep some things stowed away for yourself. Things you were meant to give up when you left your old life behind.”
My chest aches. Oh Bes…
“The order has taken much from me over the years,” he admits. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to escape this place and its constraining walls. Even now, there are days when I wish my mother had never brought me here.”
When I sneak a glance at him, I find his jaw clenched and his eyes staring sightlessly at the stone.
The urge to comfort him nearly overwhelms me.
Don’t overthink it. I reach out, taking his hand in mine.
The callouses and scars I marked before are still there, but the rest of his skin is soft.
It feels natural, touching him this way.
After a moment of unreadable silence, he squeezes back. He bows his head, forcing some of his hair to come loose from its hold; I have the all-consuming urge to reach out and tuck it back behind his ear.
Instead, I extricate my hand from his and stand back before I do something really reckless. Especially when I still haven’t fully forgiven him for lying to me. Bes must feel the same because he heads back toward the exit.
He turns on his heel to face me before he leaves.
Exhaustion pulling at me, I place my hand on the door—but Bes doesn’t move from the threshold. I don’t want to look at him; I’m tired and I’m dirty, and, honestly, I want to be alone for one damn second to gather my thoughts. Yet, I can’t bring myself to make the effort.
Maybe because a part of you doesn’t want Bes to leave. This is the first time we’ve truly been alone, without Cec, since the Temple of Seti I…
After a moment, he reaches up and brushes his finger beneath my chin.
He doesn’t keep it there, though, giving me the choice of whether or not to accept his invitation.
Unable to help myself, my eyes slowly flick up to his.
They first catch on the top two undone buttons of his Henley.
I stare for a moment at his muscled chest, having the terrible urge to pull him back inside.
Once I meet his eyes, that urge nearly becomes unbearable.
His gaze bores into me deeply, as if he’s found my soul and captured it with a simple look. My core gently warms and I lean forward slightly.
“No more secrets, no more lies—at least, not from me. I promise,” he assures me softly, voice deepening.
“After everything that happened, how can I trust you?” I murmur, halfway to trusting him again already, no matter how ill-advised it is.
“Without the blood oath in effect, I have no reason to lie,” he explains simply. “You’re here now, and you’re safe.”
God, how I want to believe that. Though I may be safe from the God Men and the Blackshirts in this place, that doesn’t mean I’m not in danger from the dozens of strangers in that great hall. Or that Ansaldo doesn’t have something worse planned for me.
“The people out there may not know you well enough to trust you yet,” Bes clarifies. “But the order upholds a certain code of honor, and no one would dare cross Ansaldo.”
Too focused on Bes to care what exactly their code of honor entails, I lean in closer to him, matching his gentle tone. “Let me guess: breaking this code is treasonous and punishable by death.”
A side of his full lips flicks up, and, unless I’m imagining it, he leans in too. “Now you’re getting it.”
“I’ve been told I’m rather observant.”
He raises a playful brow. “Who told you that? Must be an idiot.”
“There’s no reason to call Cec names.”
We watch each other for a moment, heat racing up my chest and along my neck.
I glance behind him into the hallway to ensure we’re not being overheard, lowering my voice even further.
“How can you expect me to trust these people? Their leader ordered you to lie to me for Christ’s sake.
I want to believe they’re better than the God Men, but I also don’t know their motivations.
” I take a settling breath. “What if they—what if Ansaldo—force me to join?”
The playful brow drops and his brow furrows as he reaches up to tuck an errant strand of blonde hair behind my ear. His warm fingertips linger against my neck, and my entire body clenches pleasantly, torturously.
“I would never allow that to happen,” he declares.
“But how could you stop them?”
He removes his hand. “I’d find a way. I know you’re perfectly capable of defending yourself without any of my help, but I told you I’d protect you. And I don’t plan on stopping now that we’re here.”
Both the promise and his adamancy at keeping it steal my breath away. I don’t know what I’ve done to garner such loyalty; I also don’t know if I can trust it, no matter how vehemently he himself believes it.
Cec would absolutely abandon the kind of loyalty expected from the order, free spirit that he is.
But Bes? I think about what happened in the car, about his blind spot for Gino—probably one of the only true mistakes he’s made in his life.
Ailsa, though, he knew well and trusted completely because of her allegiance to the order.
He trusts them more than he’s letting on, and, in my mind, that is a conflict of interest.
Does protecting me mean from all of my enemies, including the very order he serves?
“It wasn’t that long ago you would’ve chosen your order over me,” I reason gently. “Why the change of heart?”
His eyes flick to my lips, deepening. “People change, Miss Hawkins. They learn new information, and shift their opinion accordingly. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?”
I don’t answer; instead, I find myself staring at his lips too. This close to him, the urge to erase the closing gap between us, to run my fingers through that unruly hair, is—
“Belzoni,” someone barks from down the hall; I flinch, the spell he cast over me broken. “Ansaldo wants to speak with you. Now.”
Bes holds my gaze for a moment longer. Reaching out with his free hand, he grazes the inside of my palm at my side. Then he turns on his heels and heads in the direction of whoever interrupted us.
Before I can think better of it, I close the door on him like I planned to do before, turning the key he left me and locking it from the inside. Unfortunately, it does nothing to quiet my mind, my emotions rolling around inside me like a bag of marbles.
Leaning against the door, I stand there for a moment and touch my lips.
I imagine what would’ve happened if Bes and I hadn’t been disturbed.
If he’d done more than tuck my hair behind my ear and brush his fingers against my hand.
I remember how he held me at the underground club, as if I meant more to him than just a ward to protect, or a thorn in his side.
And Lord knows I wanted more from him in that moment.
Kissing Bes, though… it would only complicate things.
But there’s a difference between “shouldn’t want” and “don’t want”.
Because I did want to kiss Bes just now.
If I admit it to myself, I’ve been wanting to kiss him since that night at the museum.
He’s frustrating and complicated, but loyal to the people he cares about.
And even though he lied to me about who he was working for, I can’t help wanting him.
Doesn’t mean I should want him.
Despite having stepped beyond the seal that breaks his blood oath, he still won’t tell me anything about the Order of Cavendi and why they’re more trustworthy than the God Men to keep the Amulet of Amun safe.
Has Ansaldo forbade him from telling me that as well?
He promised me no more lies, no more secrets, yet he continues to keep them.
Then again, who’s to say Ansaldo isn’t keeping plenty of his own secrets from his family and flock?
Just because Bes has no nefarious purpose for my being here—that he truly believes I’m safer here than out there—means nothing if he doesn’t have the whole story.
I need to think about something else, anything else.
Staring at the closed door to the bathroom, I wonder if it has an actual bath. I’m normally not a bath person, but I have a great need to soak in hot, soapy water until my skin prunes.