Chapter 14 Aurora
FOURTEEN
AURORA
Their conversation drifted away from heavier topics and slowed to a crawl.
Aurora watched Gia slip into sleep, transfixed by her unguarded expression.
Those soft cheeks and pouting lips. Gia’s utter relaxation made Aurora acutely aware of how poised she’d been in every waking moment, even when Aurora had thought she’d glimpsed cracks in her veneer.
It seemed Gia was always on her guard. She hadn’t shared much as they’d talked.
Why had she lived at home during college?
She’d hardly said anything about her family, and hadn’t talked about them in relation to her move to Shearwater Landing.
Not the way someone with a strong familial connection would, so it didn’t seem like she’d lived at home out of a loving desire to stay close.
Aurora let her curiosity go. She’d have to be patient if she wanted to get to know Gia. She wouldn’t spill her life story in a day, even if Aurora had no qualms about answering any question she threw at her, giving as much of herself as Gia asked for.
Would Gia be pleased Aurora was lying here, watching her sleep, admiring the faint freckles on her cheeks? Aurora tried not to be creepy about it, but she couldn’t pry herself away.
Being near Gia felt right. Centering, no grounding. Her soul longed to close the distance between them, an electric force tugging them together.
Was this feeling nothing more than the magic tying them together, akin to whatever had called her to the theater?
Aurora wanted to say no. She hadn’t felt like this trapped in the office.
This pull felt like it came from within.
It was stronger now than it had been earlier, as if it were growing along with her personal connection to Gia.
That, or Aurora’s mind was running away with itself, lost in an abundance of time and lack of sleep, leading her to fantasy.
Sometime after the sun had risen, Gia stirred and rolled onto her back. The moment she shifted into consciousness, Aurora swore a zap of energy ignited in the still morning air, calling her soul to attention.
“Hey.” Gia’s soft voice was heavy with sleep as she turned to look at her.
“Morning,” Aurora said in a low rasp, the charge between them heightening.
Gia shifted, seemingly oblivious to the spark. She stretched, the blanket falling away, and settled closer to Aurora, a tiny smile shaping her lips. Her lashes fluttered, and Aurora longed to obliterate the distance separating them.
Gia stilled, her attention settling on Aurora. Were her feelings written all over her face? If they were, Gia didn’t look displeased. Her cheeks flushed, and Aurora didn’t think it was the warmth of the bed.
Gia had to feel this connection too, didn’t she?
Can I kiss you? The words were on the tip of Aurora’s tongue. Except she couldn’t kiss Gia. Not really.
She’d touched Gia’s hand last night, but it had been a struggle not to pass through her to the mattress below. Why was touching Gia different than touching a wall or lying on the bed? Why didn’t Gia’s body contain Aurora like any other physical object?
Gia’s lips parted. Fuck it. They could still kiss, in their own way. Aurora could at least ask—
The shrill beeping of Gia’s phone cut through the air.
Gia jumped, giving a tiny yelp. “Shit. That scared me.” She shot a sheepish glance at Aurora.
“Same.” But the crushing disappointment of a missed opportunity outweighed the small fright.
Gia sat up and grabbed her phone off the charger. “Oh my god, it’s after ten. How did I sleep so late?”
Aurora should have realized they’d spent most of the morning in bed. The sun was bright outside, but time hadn’t seemed to exist before the phone went off, and not in the hopeless way it had when Aurora had been trapped in the theater.
“I got a text from Lilly,” Gia continued, tapping the phone. “The Thornfields are saying…” A crease appeared on her brow.
Aurora floated into a sitting position. “What?”
“Sorry. The Thornfields have publicly announced your death. But Lilly can’t tell if they genuinely believe it, or if they’re covering up the truth and lying to people outside the coven.
There’s no indication that anyone is after the Lockwood Coven, so Trey’s presence makes Lilly distrust what your family is saying. ”
“Dammit.” Aurora wanted a simple answer, but Trey being here for the Lockwoods made less and less sense the more she thought about it, even if he had seemed interested in Gia.
Something else occurred to her. “If my coven knows I’m suspending my body while my soul is elsewhere, and they’re telling people I died, what are they going to do when I wake up? ”
Gia glanced up, a grim expression stealing all the softness from her features. “It wouldn’t matter if they don’t plan on anyone outside the coven seeing you again.”
Trapped even more thoroughly than before. Her coven could also be planning to kill her if she ever woke up, but she couldn’t say that out loud. A stone dropped deep in Aurora’s soul, threatening to drag her to the darkest depths.
“We won’t let them cut you off from the world,” Gia said, a hint of steel entering her tone. “And who knows? They could very well believe you died, and won’t even notice when your body disappears from the crypt.”
Aurora swallowed her dread, focusing instead on Gia’s sweet determination. “Here’s to hoping.”
Gia flashed a reassuring smile. “Lilly said she’s still looking into it. I’ll reply with a thanks, unless you need me to add anything else?”
“No, all good. Thanks for checking.”
Gia shrugged. “I don’t mind being your ghost secretary.”
Aurora grinned, grateful Gia could so effortlessly give her a reason to.
She set the phone aside. “Speaking of Trey, has he returned? Maybe we were all wrong about why he was here.”
“Um.” Aurora should have checked hours ago. “I’ll go see.” She quickly zoomed out of the room.
Fuck, she’d been completely distracted. They’d know if someone had messed with Lilly’s protective ward, but Aurora needed to be proactive, not sit around watching Gia sleep like a weirdo.
She turned invisible and looked out the window, scanning the street. A few people were out and about, but no one she recognized, and none of them seemed to be lurking. No trace of Trey, either.
It was too much to hope that Trey and her coven had given up on whatever they’d been doing, or that they’d been completely wrong about why he was here, as Gia had suggested. Was the absence of loitering Thornfields a positive development or a brief reprieve while something worse brewed?
The sound of a sink running caught Aurora’s attention.
A few minutes later, the water shut off, and Gia emerged from the bedroom, heading for the kitchen. “Is he there?”
Aurora let her invisibility drop. “No. And I don’t see anyone else suspicious hanging around.”
“That’s a relief.” Gia cut a slice of bread and popped it in the toaster.
“Maybe.” Aurora only felt more certain that the absence was ominous. “We should head out and get anything you need. Maybe think about staying somewhere else.”
Gia opened a jar of jam, lid popping. “Like where?”
“The Lockwoods will find room somewhere.”
An all too familiar guarded expression settled over Gia’s face. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s smart. I can’t argue that.” The unsaid but hung heavy in the air.
Aurora understood Gia’s reluctance, but there wasn’t time for her to slowly become comfortable with the Lockwoods.
“I know you’d rather not stay with the coven.
You can still decide to be involved with the Lockwoods, or not, after this is all over.
They won’t consider helping as a debt that needs repayment. I promise.”
“Okay. I don’t doubt they’re as good as you say…” She trailed off. After a pause, she returned her attention to the toast.
So Gia trusted Aurora’s word, but couldn’t seem to extend that trust to the Lockwoods. Why? Was it because she didn’t know enough of the coven personally, or was it something else? Something that couldn’t be overcome.
Aurora didn’t see Gia jumping into coven life any time soon, if ever, and with that realization, something else occurred to her.
“What are you going to do with the theater?” Would she allow the coven to continue meeting there even if she didn’t join?
Aurora tried not to let that prospect disappoint her.
Gia grabbed a plate and a butter knife. “I’m going to sell the theater. This place, too.”
“Sell it?” Aurora couldn’t hide her shock.
“Yeah. Someone in the coven can buy it if they want. Actually, a private sale would be ideal. Quicker.”
“Are you in a hurry?” Aurora couldn’t help feeling blindsided. They hardly knew each other, and yet it hurt that Gia might not stick around.
Would Gia want to keep in touch when this mess was over? Aurora had taken it for granted that she did. She’d assumed Gia would want her to explain how to use magic at the very least.
Maybe the closeness Aurora experienced last night and this morning had been all in her head. Damnation. Good thing she hadn’t asked for that kiss.
Gia shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean, hurry? I was planning to sell the theater before I met you yesterday. I haven’t had time to rethink it. That’s all.”
Aurora halted her sinking thoughts. There was no reason to freak out. Maybe Gia would reassess and change her mind. It wasn’t as if she’d mentioned a life she was burning to return to. Aurora had the perfect chance to convince her to stay, tied together as they were.
“That’s fair,” she made herself say.
Gia nodded. “I should talk to the coven about the theater. Is it important to the Lockwoods? Beyond being headquarters, I mean.”
“You could say that.”
“Then I’ll try my best to make sure it stays in their hands.”
It was kind of her. Gia owed Aurora and the Lockwoods nothing.
Unfairly, Aurora wanted more.