Chapter 10
TEN
Passing unseen is a skill worth honing.
CELINE
“Why are we sneaking around in the middle of the night?” I whisper.
Ciprian clamps his hand over my mouth, black eyes flashing with mischief.
We’re in a corridor I’ve never seen before.
The dark wood floors are partially covered by a thick runner.
There’s a gilded mirror on the wall, but when I look at it, I see nothing but the opposite wall.
My skin prickles. We’re casting no reflection, what the actual—Nightmare. It’s only nightmare magic.
Ciprian drops his hand from my mouth, and I tackle him. We hit the floor, the thud muted by the rug. “Tell me what we’re doing,” I demand.
He wheezes. “Gods, hot wings, this is a heist. You aren’t supposed to take out your partner in crime.”
I frown, glancing around. “I’m not going to help you steal from your family while they’re housing us. That’s fucked up.” He asked me to join him on a walk. Since I wanted to stretch my legs, I agreed to tag along. At no point did we discuss burglary.
“I couldn’t agree more.” I flinch at the unfamiliar voice and the dark hallway floods with light. “Ciprian Casanell, you better have a good excuse for scaring me half to death.”
With the light on, the decor is more familiar. I still don’t think I’ve been in this hallway before, but it has the same homey atmosphere as the shifter wing that Ciprian snuck me into after his father’s funeral.
“Of course, Sarah.” Flat on his back and pinned to the runner, Ciprian grins up at the tall woman, unbothered. “I was bringing my girlfriend to meet you.”
I blanch, connecting the dots when I notice the dimples in her cheeks as she smiles. This is almost certainly Gideon’s mother, Sarah Therion. She’s basically Ciprian’s second mom, and I’m straddling him in front of her.
I scramble to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I sputter. “We’ll get out of your way.”
“No, we won’t,” Ciprian grumbles. “We came for cookies, and I’m not leaving without them.”
Sarah’s lips twitch. “I thought you came to introduce me to your girlfriend?”
Ciprian groans, then pouts. “Sarah, you know I can’t officially do that. If Mom found out, she would kill me with a rusty spoon.”
“That’s too bad, sweetie,” Sarah whispers. “Because she and I were having a nice glass of wine when you decided to . . . wrestle in the hallway.”
A blonde woman steps from the shadows and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Fuck.” All color leeches from Ciprian’s face.
“Language,” the regal woman scolds him before looking at me. I’ve faced monsters in an arena, but meeting my boyfriend’s mom? Terrifying. The urge to run away and leave Ciprian to face her alone is strong.
“I’m Mallory,” she says, holding out her hand.
I take it and introduce myself, relieved when my voice sounds normal. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Mallory glances at Sarah. “Is this who he snuck into your apartment all those weeks ago?”
Sarah nods. “I’m pretty sure. They weren’t covert.”
“Barely a trickle of fear, though,” Mallory hums. “A partner with backbone is a must.”
Ciprian drags himself off the floor and grabs my hand. “She’s standing right here, Mom.”
I squeeze his fingers, even though I’m considering shoving him down again for getting me into this mess. I’m not dressed to meet anyone’s mom; I’m wearing booty shorts for fuck’s sake.
“You, on the other hand . . .” Mallory lifts her chin as she surveys her son. “Are terrified.”
Sarah laughs. “Be gentle, Mallory. He’s never introduced us to anyone before.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Ciprian mutters. He sniffs the air and snorts. “How much wine have you two had tonight?”
“Don’t judge,” Sarah says.
He rolls his eyes. “Can we have some?”
“Celine can.” Mallory’s voice is chilly, and I stifle a shiver.
“Mom!”
“The audacity of my sons, Sarah.” Mallory examines her nails. “One disappears for weeks without warning—returning only to feed me a nonsensical story about needing a vacation—and the other lies to me about it, insulting my intelligence by feigning ignorance.”
I clear my throat. “That’s my fault.”
She sniffs. “I doubt it, dear.”
My mouth falls open, and a laugh bubbles out before I can stop it. It’s just so silly. Now that I’m paying attention, it’s clear how tipsy they both are. I’ve imagined meeting Ciprian’s mom, but never this way.
Sarah loops her arm with mine and tows me down the hallway like a barge.
“You can’t steal her from me,” Ciprian hisses. “I want to come, too!”
“Goodness, Ciprian, did we forget to teach you how to share?” I shoot Sarah a startled glance. Was that innuendo or am I imagining things? She winks at me, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes deepening as she grins, and I gulp. Definitely innuendo.
“I know how to share,” he snaps.
There’s a wild note in his voice that immediately puts me on guard.
Ciprian’s pissed, and he’s about to do something outrageous, like tell these lovely women our relationship dynamics.
I’m not hiding anything, but that’s a bell that can’t be un-rung, and we haven’t discussed it with Alistair and Luca yet.
“You’re welcome to bring your other lovers,” Mallory says, and I wince. “That is, if you’re not too scared, Son.”
“How many are there, darling?” Sarah asks me, keeping her voice low. “Idris won’t let me into the wing. I haven’t been able to get a good look.”
I glance over my shoulder, panic making me desperate.
Ciprian and his mom are locked in a whisper-fight, pale cheeks flushed with bright red spots, their platinum heads pressed close together.
“Umm,” I trail off, at a loss as to how I’m supposed to respond.
Sarah giggles, opening a door and leading me to a cozy couch with deep cushions and urging me to sit. The coffee table is crowded with open bottles of wine. “Help yourself to a cookie, sweetie,” she says. “I’ll go grab you a fresh glass.”
“Two, Sarah, please!” Ciprian’s voice is strangled. He drops down on the couch next to me and throws his head back, groaning at the ceiling.
“Honestly, Son, you’re hurting my feelings.” Mallory settles on the chair across from us and crosses her ankles. It’s almost graceful, except she misses the first time and has to try again.
“I-we—fuck, Mom, I don’t want to drag Celine into this.”
Her soft gray eyes search my face. “She seems pretty tough to me.”
“Yeah, but she shouldn’t have to be.” His words erase my lingering annoyance with him.
Mallory blinks a few times, then leans forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “You aren’t human, are you, Celine?” She sounds equal parts shocked and horrified.
From the kitchen, a cabinet shuts with a bang and Sarah shouts, “It would be fine if you were, dear.”
“Of course, of course,” Mallory mutters, but her lips are pinched, as if she downed three tequila shots in a row without a chaser.
“I’m not human,” I assure her, tossing Ciprian a look. He’s still staring at the ceiling, like he’s imagining we’re somewhere else entirely. I jab him with my elbow. “I’m an angel, actually.”
Sarah reappears with two oversized wine glasses, shoving one into Ciprian’s hand, pouring chardonnay into the other, and handing it to me. “An angel,” she exclaims. “Do you have wings?”
I nod. This line of questioning makes me nervous, because the most logical follow-up question is what do you do? And while I’m not ashamed of my job, I’m also not stupid. Ciprian’s an enclave heir and the baby—I doubt they’ll be thrilled he’s introducing them to a stripper.
“We’ll have to go flying some time,” Sarah says. “I prefer shifting into a lion, but my husband has an avian affinity, and I’m used to flying with him. There’s nothing quite like the weightlessness.”
I smile, nod, and take a sip—fine, it’s a gulp—of wine.
Ciprian groans. “Please, don’t break up with me.”
“I won’t if you quit whining and pay attention to the conversation.”
Sarah clinks her glass against mine, her brown eyes sparkling with laughter.
Ciprian sits upright, wraps his arm around me, and glances, first at his mom, then at Sarah. “I love Celine. I’m so in love with her that I can hardly breathe. She makes me better and worse and more myself all at the same time, and if anyone messes this up for me, they’ll be dead to me forever.”
He sets the empty wine glass down, grabs a cookie, and stuffs it in his mouth casually, as if he didn’t stun all three of us into silence.
I blink, heat rushing over my face and neck. Holy shit. That is not what I meant when I asked him to participate. It was aggressive. And incredibly hot.
I drain my glass. I shouldn’t find it hot.
When Sarah’s eyes well up, I want to crawl under the couch. “That was beautiful,” she says, bending to kiss Ciprian’s cheek. “Mallory, can you believe it? All our boys are happy.”
Mallory doesn’t look like she can believe it. I’m not sure she’s happy about it either. Her face isn’t moving.
I hold her stare with as much calm as I can manage.
After the longest pause in history, she stands, grabs the wine bottle, and refills my glass before sitting back down. Her eyes are glassy, and the depth of emotion lurking there stuns me. “Welcome to the family, Celine.”
I’m so on edge that my magic tests her without me asking it to.
She’s telling the truth.
I’m too stunned to respond, but she’s already turning her attention to Ciprian. “Your father would have loved to meet her. He wanted—” She gulps, then pats her hair. It’s a nervous gesture; there’s not a strand out of place. “He would have liked the opportunity to make a good impression.”
The wave of grief that rolls over them both is impossible to miss. I find Ciprian’s hand and squeeze his fingers, stroking his knuckles with my thumb.
He clears his throat. “She’s important to me, Mom.”
Mallory nods. “Then she’s important to me, too.”
Sarah settles on the arm of Mallory’s chair and dabs at her eyes with her sleeve. “A djinn and an angel. It seems like yesterday that they were all running around with scabby knees.”
Mallory’s lips curl into a tiny smile.