Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Excerpt from the Veydran Code of Conduct:
Weakness admitted is weakness exploitable.
RIVEN
Celine parks the van outside the dingy motel. Two greasy bags of fast food are perched on the center console. My stomach rumbles, but I won’t eat until I know we’re secure for the night.
“I’ll go book a room,” Celine says. “You wait here.”
I snort. “No chance. Look at this place!”
She narrows her eyes. “You think some random human could take me?”
“Take you? Certainly not, but it would cause a scene, and I need sleep.”
Celine opens her mouth, then closes it again before nodding briskly and unbuckling her seatbelt. The mechanism retracts with a whir, and the metal end smacks against the window. “Fine. But let me do the talking.”
I instigate a shift, choosing Luca this time. Besides a small frown, Celine doesn’t react. Doesn’t she realize I’m doing this for her comfort? Surely, she wouldn’t prefer my prowling behind her wearing a stranger’s face.
We leave the van behind and head for the entrance to the motel. “What’s our strategy?” I ask, eyeing the dubious two-story building.
“We don’t need a strategy.” She narrows her eyes at me. “We’re renting a room, Riven, not robbing the place.”
Celine opens the front door. A bell rings, and I flinch as she walks over to the desk, smiling brightly.
There’s an older woman sitting there, a paperback novel propped on the scuffed counter in front of her.
Perched on the tip of her nose, her glasses are secured to her neck by two thin chains that quiver every time she breathes.
She doesn’t look up.
Licking her finger, she turns the yellowed page and continues to ignore us.
Celine pulls a wad of cash out of her pocket, tapping her foot silently on the floor as she waits for the employee to acknowledge us.
I don’t have the patience.
Forcing a smile onto Luca’s face, I knock on the counter. The book shudders, and several pages turn on their own as the woman’s head snaps up, her casual indifference replaced with fury. Perhaps I used too much force, but what’s done is done.
When her gaze reaches my face, her scowl flips into a grin. “Oh my,” she cackles. “How can I help you, sir?”
“We need a room,” Celine says. She’s still smiling, but her jaw is tight.
“No hourly rentals here.” The woman points to a sign on the corner of the desk and gives me a pointed look.
“Good to know,” Celine says breezily, wrapping her arm around my waist. “But an hour won’t be nearly enough time for what I have in mind.” Her voice is pure sex, and my brain short-circuits. It’s all I can do to keep Luca’s face in place.
“A room with two queens will run you about—”
Celine laughs, and her grip on my waist tightens. “Do you see my boyfriend? We’ll need one with a king.”
The woman’s mouth drops open, mostly closes, then settles into a pinched circle. She bears an uncanny resemblance to a fish, and when the chains on her glasses shudder ominously, it’s clear she’s spoiling for a fight.
After the day we’ve had, I’m terrified Celine will give her one. I kiss her cheek and beam at the hag. “Make sure it’s sturdy,” I tell her, hoping she has a shred of sense and lets this go.
She huffs and takes Celine’s money, slapping the key card down on the counter.
“Enjoy your stay,” she croons.
“Enjoy your book.”
I grab Celine’s hand and tug her out the door.
Five minutes later, we’re climbing a stained concrete staircase and sliding the key card into the slot attached to the corner room. Four green lights flash above the knob, and the lock disengages. Relieved, I push the door open, only dropping my guard after it closes behind us.
The room is shabby, but cleaner than I expected.
Celine tosses her backpack onto the bed, and her wings shoot from her back. “The fucking nerve of that woman,” she hisses.
I place both bags of food on the small table beside the boxy television. “I don’t think I understood the subtext,” I admit. “What was that about?”
Celine’s hands ball into fists. “She called me a whore, Riven.”
I drop Luca’s face, not willing to have this or any other conversation with her as someone else. Her wings are smoking—she’s furious—but the wet sheen in her eyes is much worse.
I shift again, choosing the lanky cop’s form, and stride for the door.
“Where are you going?” Celine demands.
“To kill her.” I glance over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
Before I can reach the door, she’s on me, gripping my shoulders with both hands. “Change back,” she snaps. “Not to Luca, Ciprian, or anyone else. I want to see you.”
I do as she asks. “It won’t take long, I promise—”
Her lips crash against mine, and I taste her fury. Scorching and impossible to resist. This is bad for me, but I don’t care about that anymore. How can I while she’s stealing the air from my lungs and kissing me like she doesn’t care if I have a face of my own or not?
“You can’t kill her,” she whispers.
I drag my lips along the curve of her neck and shrug. “If you say so, darling.”
“And I should stop kissing you.” A shadow crosses her face. “We’re supposed to be friends.”
I nod slowly. I’m in no rush for her to come to her senses.
My face glitches, and the warped bands roll down from my hairline and disappear beneath the collar of my shirt. They don’t stop there, but at least my clothes hide most of it.
Celine traces my cheekbone, and I force myself to maintain eye contact. “The static,” she whispers. “At first, I thought it was a weakness.”
“It is,” I rasp. “What else could it possibly be?”
Her lips curl. They’re pink and a little puffy. Because of me. I like that. I like that a lot.
“They’re more like my wings,” she says. “Fewer settings, but you glitch when you’re emotionally overwhelmed. It’s cute.” She reaches around me, securing the deadbolt and the flimsy gold chain anchored in the wall.
We eat in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable.
Celine excuses herself to shower, and steam wafts through the crack under the bathroom door until the entire bedroom is hot and sticky. When it’s my turn, I stand under the spray until the water runs cold, remembering the feel of her lips on mine.
I’m a fool.
My self-preservation instincts are all but gone.
But I can’t bring myself to care.
The squatty black clock screeches far too early.
Celine slaps it with her palm, and it shatters, wires and springs and bits of plastic shooting everywhere. “Shit.” She sits up quickly. “I didn’t mean to hit it that hard.”
I hide my smile. My eyes are gritty, but I’m content. Embarrassingly so. “Cheaply made,” I tell her, reaching out to pluck a plastic fragment from her hair.
She gets up and heads to the bathroom. “I’ll be ready to go in five minutes.” Her voice is muffled, but I can still hear her. These walls are paper-thin.
After I’ve dressed and swapped places with her to brush my teeth, we check out—the new desk clerk is a bored teenager—and get back on the road.
“The gateway is roughly five hours away,” Celine says.
I nod. Five hours or fifty, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m along for the ride, and the longer it lasts, the less inclined I am to get off.
The rumored gateway is in an unincorporated part of eastern Oregon. By the time we’re approaching the coordinates, Celine is buzzing, and I’m nervous.
“What’s your plan?” I ask. “If the gateway rumor is real.”
“Get in, lie low until I know where Malach’s being held, break him out, then remove my father’s head from his body.”
Good gods. I stare out the window to hide my expression. She’s been away for a long time, and it’s understandably difficult to make a solid plan without eyes on the inside, but that’s not what I’m worried about. She’s talking as if she’s lost her ability to strategize.
“If you can’t get in cleanly, will you wait until you can?”
Her silence is loud.
I’ll have to be blunt. “If you don’t outsmart him, he’ll kill you.”
“I know that,” she says. “I’m not embarking on a suicide mission, but I can’t hide any longer. He’s gone too far, and if I don’t stand up to him now, I won’t be able to recognize myself.” She’d rather die than be someone she’s not. It’s terrifying.
“And if Malach is complicit?”
“He isn’t.”
“But if he is . . .”
“He isn’t.” Celine swallows heavily. “Malach takes vows seriously. He made promises to me; promises he would never willingly break. He gave me the benefit of the doubt after I left him. It’s time for me to do the same.”
She’s letting romance cloud her judgment. How can I make her see it? “That’s a beautiful sentiment,” I murmur. “I’m sure Malach will find comfort in that if it gets you killed.”
“Watch yourself,” Celine snarls.
“No.” I study her profile. “I’m watching you, and you’re worrying me.”
“It’s not your business.”
“Maybe not, but I have experience surviving a realm designed to kill. You hate your father and you love Malach, but if you can’t temper those emotions, you won’t win.”
“It’s not a game,” she snaps. “There’s no winning.”
I scoff. “Do you have no interest in leaving alive with Malach? What about Luca? Your death could kill him too, thanks to the bond. And Alistair and Ciprian may be on good terms now, but the vampire gave up his credibility to hide at the compound with you. Will they survive the fallout if you never come back, or will they take turns blaming each other until your memory brings them nothing but pain?”
“Fuck you!” Celine pulls to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. “You have no right—”
“Right and wrong have nothing to do with it, darling.”
The temperature in the van ratchets up, the heat of her rage trapped inside with nowhere to go. She’s dangerous, but I don’t fear her. Her emotions won’t hurt me. What they’ll do to her is another matter. If I have to push her to make her see that, I will.
“Do you want a reward for being better than your father?” I ask.
“Congratulations, you already have four. They see you clearly and love everything they see, even the parts you’d rather change.
” I cup her cheek and graze her lips with my thumb.
“You fight for them with courage, no one disputes that, Celine, but you must fight for yourself with the same fury.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she whispers, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
The windows are fogged from the temperature shift, giving us the illusion of privacy.
We’re in a van on the side of the road, but she’s letting me in.
Past the bravado. Past the anger. The slice of intimacy calls to me, a forbidden delicacy I can’t help sampling, even if I end up paying for it later.
I drop my forehead to hers and breathe her in. “I know you’re trying,” I say. “I only want you to focus on your future more than your past. The road ahead is bright. It’s filled with laughter and love, but to get there, you’ll need to be your father’s daughter first. Beat S’lach at his own game.”
She inhales raggedly, then nods.
I shudder, blood rushing to my cock as she transforms from a beautiful woman on the verge of tears to something else entirely. I’m not getting lost in Celine’s warm brown eyes anymore. Instead, I’m pinned in place by the analytical stare of a cold-hearted killer.
I smile.
Celine pulls the van back onto the road.
Ten minutes later, we’re as close to the coordinates as we can get on four wheels.
We walk into the woods, trekking across the thick, damp moss with silent footsteps. Ferns graze my calves, their fronds soaking my jeans from cuff to knee. I ignore it.
Celine’s anticipation is infectious.
Eventually, the trees thin, giving way to a clearing. It’s perfectly round, not a shape normally found in nature. I don’t see any signs of a celestial gateway, but I’m not an angel either.
Celine rushes forward, circling the clearing, kicking stones aside, and peeling vines away from the ancient rocks. Her movements become frantic. My face flickers.
When she sinks to her knees, my stomach flips. We’ve come all this way for a dead end.
I give her as much privacy as I can, walking the perimeter and mentally retracing our steps. This is the spot. It’s obvious something other used to be here. But whatever it was, it’s long gone now.
Something metallic catches my eye. Tucked on a flat rock, its gray, waterproof material blending in with the surrounding stone, I find a small bag. The zipper gave it away. It’s silver, shiny, and wildly out of place in this damp, isolated forest.
“Celine.” I grab the bag. “This has your name written on it.”
She’s back on her feet in a flash, snatching the bag from my hands and yanking the zipper open. A cell phone falls out, and I catch it before it hits the ground. “Be careful, we don’t know who—”
“Yes, we do.” Celine unfolds a piece of paper. On one side, there’s a handwritten note, on the other, a list of . . . coordinates? Her hand begins to shake, and it’s all I can do not to snatch the paper away from her and read it myself.
“It’s from Luca, Ciprian, and Alistair. They say they understand why I left, and they want to help.” She turns to me, her brown eyes wide. “I don’t understand. If they knew we were coming, why would they leave before we got here?”
“What’s on the other side?” Gently, I flip the paper over.
Her mouth drops open. “Gateway locations. They’ve been researching.”
“How romantic,” I mutter, although I am impressed. I suspected it would take them longer to see reason. Searching the bag, I curse under my breath. “There’s cash and plane tickets here, too.”
“What?” Celine demands.
I hand them to her and shuffle through a handful of driver's licenses tucked inside a zipped compartment. Half of them have Celine’s picture, and the other half are an assortment of men, each one uglier than the last. “Alistair has a unique sense of humor.”
I fan them out to show her, and she chuckles before pointing to the card at the bottom of the stack. “What’s that? It’s not an ID.”
I hold it up, and we both stare at the room key. It’s thick, with embossed lettering. When I flip it over, there’s an address clearly printed on the back. My stomach twists. It appears our time alone is coming to an end.
“You don’t have to come with me,” she whispers. “We agreed to stay together until we chased down the gateway rumor. You’re free to go.”
Her words hurt. My first inclination is to take her at her word and leave, but when I focus on Celine’s face, there’s something in her expression that I can’t place. Hope, maybe? Would I even recognize it if I saw it?
“Free to go,” I murmur. “That’s a novel concept for me. Tell me, darling, am I free to stay as well?”
Her brown eyes meet mine, and she nods without hesitation.
We hike back to the van without exchanging another word.