Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Determination can’t be taught, but grit must be learned.
CELINE
I’m almost jogging when I enter the hotel lobby. It’s all I can do to keep my wings tucked and avoid accidentally outing the supernatural community to the human staff member perched behind the desk.
Riven trails along beside me, somehow managing to match my pace without looking like he’s hurrying.
Ignoring the receptionist, I glance at the numbers stamped on the wall and head for the elevator bank. After I’ve smacked the up arrow three times, Riven grabs my hand and whistles tunelessly. “You’re drawing attention, darling.”
I release the air from my lungs with a frustrated puff. “I’m excited,” I admit.
Riven snorts. “I had no idea.”
If he wasn’t fighting laughter, I might be mad at him for that comment, but Riven’s been supportive and helpful—borderline kind, if I’m being honest. The pull toward him is confusing, though, and it’s only getting stronger.
The elevator doors open with a ping, moving apart so slowly that I consider giving them a helping hand. “Don’t break anything,” Riven says. “It doesn’t look like the type of machinery that tolerates being strong-armed.”
He’s right. It’s the only reason I wait patiently before stepping inside and pressing the button for the third floor.
My toe taps against the bottom of the elevator.
I study the carpet in an attempt to distract myself.
Blue, with golden accents, it’s seen better days, but this hotel is a major step up from the last place we stayed.
Clean. Well-maintained. If it had faster elevators, I’d give it five stars.
My stomach flips. What if I misunderstood their note? They might not be waiting for me here. And if they are, they might not be as cool with my impromptu trip as they said they were. I could be in for a bitter disappointment or a raging fight.
“Have you ever ridden in one of these before?” I ask Riven.
“They won’t fault you,” he says, squeezing my hand. Suddenly I’m hyperaware of the press of his fingers against mine. “And yes, I’ve ridden in an elevator before.”
I narrow my eyes. “Did you get sick?”
He faces me fully and shakes his head. “In an elevator? Do you think I’m weak?”
I raise one eyebrow. “You didn’t deny it, so now I’m thinking the answer is yes.”
He rolls his eyes. The face he’s wearing is bland. The absence of the amber mask is disorienting, and I’m counting the seconds until he can drop the disguise.
“Maybe a little.”
It takes me way too long to remember what we were talking about. When I do, a startled laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s—”
“Normal,” he says. “I’m quite certain it happens all the time.”
“Sure.” I don’t bother hiding my smile.
When the elevator finally grinds to a halt, I shoot through the opening doors, my shoulders grazing the cool metal. Riven turns sideways to fit, never once letting go of my hand.
I scan the wall, searching for the right numbers. We’re looking for room 315. According to the sign, that should be . . . to the right. I barrel down the long, narrow hall, and skid to a stop outside the door.
Riven drops my hand.
I reach inside my pocket, pull out the room key, and fit it into the lock. The light flashes red. I try again, slower this time. Red again. “Motherfucker.”
“Let me try.” Riven takes the card from me, but before he can attempt to use it, the door unlocks with a click. I’m moving before it fully opens, tackling Alistair and knocking the door against the wall in my hurry.
I don’t care about the loud bang.
Neither does he.
My feet come off the floor, dangling uselessly as I cling to Ali. I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my nose in his neck. He smells exactly right. Like mine. His black hair tickles my cheek as I breathe him in.
Riven follows us inside and shuts the door behind him, but most of my focus is on Alistair.
“Angel,” he groans. “Are you alright?”
I sigh, a shadow of the devastation that leveled me after finding the fake gateway coordinates still hanging over me. “I’ll be fine. Unless you’re mad at me.”
He grunts. “Not anymore. Someone convinced me of the error of my ways.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? Who’s the Prince Charming I have to thank for that?”
“Me, fucking duh, hot wings.” Ciprian tries to latch on to me and manages to knock us all into an awkward pile of limbs on the unmade bed.
I sit up and reach for him, kissing him directly above Ali’s head.
His growl is everything I wanted. My skin pebbles. Ciprian shudders, then air rustles my hair as Alistair flips us, trying and failing to pin both of us to the bed at the same time.
My body is lighter already, but my chest is still tight.
I look around the room and frown. There’s a generic landscape painting over the bed—a boring blue mountain range surrounded by dull green trees.
Brass, practical lamps are bolted to the wall.
There’s a TV, a small table flanked by two smaller chairs, and a luggage rack covered in wrinkled clothing.
It’s everything I expected to find in this hotel room, minus one.
“Where’s Luca?”
“He went to grab food,” Ciprian says. “We didn’t know when you would make it.”
The door opens with a whine, and Luca comes in carrying multiple bags of takeout. He looks at me, and the pure relief that spreads across his face feels like taking my shoes off after a long day.
“Thank the gods.” He glances at Riven and frowns. “Where’s your face?”
“I thought we already established I didn’t have one.”
His tone isn’t unkind, but Luca winces, anyway. “No, I didn’t mean—look, I shouldn’t have . . .” He bites his lip ring. “I’m not ready for this conversation, okay?”
Riven nods slowly.
Luca forces a smile. “I prefer the amber, though,” he says. “I-I’m beginning to trust that face.”
For a moment, no one speaks.
Luca shifts his weight as Riven stares at him. The stranger’s face he wears is expressionless. I can’t read him at all. I’ve become more in tune with his emotions when he’s bound beneath the mask than I am when he’s not. When did that happen?
Warped black-and-white lines roll over the bridge of his nose. I sigh with relief as they erase the stranger’s features and return Riven to me.
I climb off Alistair, being careful not to knee he or Ciprian, and reach for Luca.
He doesn’t hesitate, swooping in to kiss me like he’s starving. His kiss is consuming, familiar, and hot at the same time. I surge forward. His back hits the table.
Paper rustles. Then his hands are on my ass.
A glance over my shoulder shows Riven walking away with the takeout bags he took from Luca to free up his hands.
“Nice save.” Ciprian claps him on the back.
“Is there enough?” Riven asks. “I know you weren’t expecting us.”
Ciprian nods. “We’ve been here for two days. Luca orders extra for every meal, just in case.”
Suddenly, my eyes are burning. Shit. I do not want to cry right now.
Except, I’m not sure I have a choice. I know I haven’t been handling things well.
My emotions are all over the place, and I’m the one who made the decision to search for the gateway without them.
They have every right to be pissed. It doesn’t change my decision, but leaving without explaining wasn’t okay.
Especially not after everything we’ve been through.
“Please, don’t cry, baby,” Luca whispers. “I hate it when you cry.”
I smile through the tears. “I’m sorry for leaving like I did.”
“It’s okay. We know why you did it, and we’re listening now. We’ll do whatever it takes to get Malach back.”
I wipe my tears on the collar of Luca’s shirt. He’s wearing a blue and black checkered flannel, and he looks good enough to eat. Unfortunately for me, my stomach growls for real food, and I’m immediately corralled into one of the chairs before I can take a bite of my basilisk.
Riven gets shoved into the other chair, and the three of them sprawl across the unmade beds, peppering us with questions while we eat.
I answer absentmindedly while tracking their movements. I can’t help myself. One wrong move is all it will take for the nice, clean, hotel sheets to be baptized with red onions or mayo-slathered lettuce. I can handle a realm full of monsters, but a grease-stained bed is my hard limit.
Riven finishes telling them about the car fire, and Ciprian clears his throat.
I stiffen as I catch his stare. I was so busy watching his hands, I forgot to monitor his eyes. They’re sparkling—a sure sign he’s up to something.
Ciprian wipes his mouth with a napkin, balls the paper up, and tosses it at the trash can. He drains the shot, but I’m too worried about what he’s about to say to care about crumbs on the carpet. This is going to be embarrassing. I know it.
“We should address the elephant in the room,” Ciprian says, leaning back on his elbows and winking at me. “Did you two . . .” He raises one eyebrow. “You know, explore each other during your road trip?”
Heat floods my cheeks. There are worse ways he could have asked. I know that, but none are coming to mind. I want to crawl under the bed and stay there.
“No,” Riven says. He sounds as if he’s on trial for his life. He might as well stand up, shout ‘not guilty,’ then run screaming from the room.
“We kissed,” I clarify, refusing to be dishonest about this. “Twice.” We discussed this possibility back at the compound—I wouldn’t have kissed Riven if we hadn’t—but I was in denial at the time. I still can’t fully wrap my head around it.
Ciprian eyes us speculatively and shrugs. “Okay.”
Riven leaps from his chair, knocking a stray fry to the floor. My eyes lock on it, even though there’s literally nothing less important. Carpet pokes through the holes of the waffle pattern. The individual fibers look like blue hair. My stomach twists.
“Okay?” Riven demands. “That’s it? I kissed the woman you love, and you just what? Don’t care at all?”
“Don’t yell at him,” Luca says, his voice tight.
I drag my gaze away from the fry in time to see Riven’s face glitch. I should say something. Anything, but I’m at a loss for words.
“You’re mistaking acceptance for apathy,” Alistair says. “If you hurt Celine, there will be nowhere in this universe where you’ll be safe from me.”
“We’re not together,” Riven insists.
My hands curl in my lap. He’s telling the truth. We’ve kissed twice, and that’s no one’s definition of a relationship. Friendship is safer, anyway. I can’t risk losing another piece of my heart while I’m trying to get Malach back.
Knowing that Riven gets carsick and being able to predict when his face will warp—it’s going to do it in 3-2-1—Static rolls over the bridge of his nose, exactly as I predicted, but there’s no triumph in being right. Not this time.
Because I don’t want to be friends.
And his vicious denial that there’s anything between us stings.
The others can’t tell that I’m reeling, but unfortunately, there’s no hiding it from Luca. He pushes to his feet, and his eyes flicker yellow. “You’ve hurt her feelings. Fix it.”
I put myself between them, shame churning low in my belly. Our bond is a snitch, and so is Luca. “No, no, he hasn’t,” I lie, flinching at the sudden pain. “Everyone, stop. No more threats. No more nosy questions. Please.”
I’m an idiot.
An embarrassed idiot.
My eyes burn again, and I ruthlessly order my tear ducts to knock it off. This situation is too tense and too pathetic for me to even contemplate adding tears to the mix.
I’m overtired, that’s all, and discouraged over the gateway dead end. This means nothing. It can’t, and it won’t until I decide it does. That’s up to me. It’s one of the few things left in my life I can truly control.
Crouching, I grab the loose fry and toss it into the trash can.
“Good shot, babe,” Ciprian murmurs.
I try to summon a smile, but it’s too far out of reach, an expression I’d have an easier time putting on someone else’s face than my own.
“I need to use the restroom,” I blurt, retreating before they can question me.
The bathroom is like every other hotel bathroom I’ve ever seen. Small, with unflattering lighting and scratchy white towels worn ragged by bleach and too many cycles through an industrial-sized washing machine.
I glance at my reflection and wince. I look feral, almost as wild as I did in the monster realm.
It was excusable then, but now . . . I turn the faucet on and splash cold water on my face.
It helps, giving me a better grip on my frayed emotions.
After I get a good night’s sleep, I’ll feel better.
I’ll soak up this time with the guys and continue my hunt for a gateway.
I can do this.
I will do this.
I am fucking doing it.
Nodding at myself, I strip down and step into the shower.
I keep the water cold. I’m not trying to punish myself, but comfort is as dangerous as pain.
Both tear down my guard, and I need my walls intact.
My teeth may be chattering, but I can’t afford any breakdowns until I know Malach is safe.
From my itchy back to my pounding heart, every instinct is screaming at me, telling me there’s no time to waste.
I won’t let him down. Not this time.
After stumbling through my cold shower as quickly as possible, I turn the water off and wrap myself in one of the scratchy towels.
I’m massaging hotel lotion into the dark circles under my eyes when someone knocks.
The sound is too tentative to be Alistair or Ciprian.
They would pound on the door, rushing in headlong even if they regretted it afterward.
Which leaves Luca or Riven. Since I can’t feel much coming through the bond, I’m pretty sure I know who’s on the other side of the door.
I steel myself and open it, fingers slipping over the cold metal handle. Riven stands on the threshold, slouched and painfully unsure of himself.
Ignoring him, I grab another towel and wipe the lotion residue off the doorknob.
My skin pebbles as he watches me, his eyes raking over my exposed skin with an intensity I would be better off ignoring.
He’s here to tell me he changed his mind. That he doesn’t want to come with me to hunt gateways after all. I’m prepared; I can take it. There’s no reason to show him my disappointment. I’ve already made a fool out of myself over him enough to last a lifetime.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Riven says softly.
My skin heats, fury chasing away the lingering chill from the cold shower.
Godsdammit, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear.