Chapter 25
DOUBLE DOG DARE
Iwaited in the Bowl for the boys to come out from backstage like one of Carlotta’s stupid groupies. I felt as shameless as one of those faceless, nameless suitors as well.
“You alright?” Elena tilted her head at me. I was staring toward the stage door, willing Ciaran to come out. I needed to see him, to talk to him; I needed to make sure that what had happened was real. That I hadn’t imagined it all.
“I’m fine.” I raised my eyebrows and shifted my eyes as I took a frothy sip of the fresh ale Elena had brought over after the show was done. The lights had come up, and most people were either milling around chatting or making their way toward the exit. I was frozen, my gaze stuck on that door.
“Liar.” She smiled. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” She leaned in, clearly hoping for some kind of gossip or revelation from me.
“I’m not thinking anything.” Heat rushed into my cheeks, a dead giveaway. I was never able to hide my emotions on my face. I would have been a terrible poker player. Triomphe had been bad enough.
“Sure. Here come the boys—” Damnit. I had taken my eyes off the door for one second. I whipped my head back to the door. “Made you look.” Elena smirked.
“Fine. I have. Feelings,” I ground out, “but I am not going to act on them. It is way too soon and way too awkward with us in this… living situation. So please just drop it.”
“You have feelings for who?” Elena asked in a low singsong voice, batting her eyelashes at me.
“For fuck’s sake. You know who.” I ground my teeth together. “Please, Elena, don’t say anything. I don’t need to make this situation anymore uncomfortable than it already is.”
“Why does it have to be uncomfortable, exactly? I just watched you two eye-fuck each other for that entire concert. It’s not exactly a one-sided situation.” Elena was blunt as always. “Didn’t he have his hands all over you the entire card game last week?”
“You saw that?” I could feel the heat creeping into my face. I didn’t realize it had been so obvious.
“Please. We all saw it.” Elena took a long pull from her glass, rolling her eyes at me. “He’s got it bad for you. You’re like a little lovesick puppy panting after him up there on stage. I don’t see what the problem is.”
My mouth was so dry. Elena wasn’t just pushing at my boundaries. She was taking a sledgehammer to them. I didn’t want to be having this conversation.
I rubbed my temple. “Elena, things are complicated for me right now. Ciaran is helping me get back on my feet. That’s all. I don’t need to make my life even more complicated by adding some kind of messy relationship into the mix. We’re friends,” I hissed through my teeth.
“Fine.” Elena held up her hands. “I won’t say anything.
Just do me a favour. Please.” She rummaged in her purse, taking out a small packet that looked like tea leaves.
“Just start drinking this, alright? I know. I know. You’re just friends.
But we don’t need any ‘friendly’ mishaps making your life even more complicated. ”
I glowered at Elena for a few seconds. She held the packet out expectantly, one eyebrow cocked. I narrowed my eyes and snatched the packet from her, tucking it safely into my own purse. Fuck. I hated that she was right.
“I’m just looking out for your well-being, my friend.” Elena gave a devious grin. “Goddess, it must be awful to be attracted to men. Such horrible creatures.” She shivered. “Speaking of horrible creatures—here they come.”
I tried, utterly failing to wipe the look of longing and desperation from my face as Ciaran walked toward the edge of the stage.
My heart was beating like Fionn’s drum set.
Everyone in this place must have been able to hear it.
Ciaran reached the edge of the stage, bent down, braced himself on his powerfully muscled forearms and hopped off the stage.
He walked straight to me, eyes drilling into mine.
He looked so intense that I actually had to stand up and take a step back.
“Well, looks like I need another drink. Boys?” Elena hooked her arms through Fionn’s and Rory’s, steering them toward the bar. I didn’t know whether to kiss her or slap her for leaving me with Ciaran. She gave me a pointed look over her shoulder. I scowled at her.
“Hello, love.” Ciaran dragged a hand through his hair, tousling it in that way that made me weak at the knees. “How’d you enjoy the show?”
“Ciaran, you were… unbelievable,” I said solemnly. I didn’t have words to convey how the performance had moved me. I didn’t know if the proper words existed. Silence yawned between us.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Ciaran broke the thrall. I had never seen him this ruffled. He was usually so calm and collected, bordering on arrogant.
“Sure.”
“Good. Good. Come on.” Ciaran took my hand in his and we ascended the seven levels of the Bowl, making our way back into the yellowish limestone hallways.
This late at night, I had expected everyone to be home and out of the cobbled corridors, but Beneath Lutesse was more alive and vibrant now than it was during the daytime.
We made our way through the busy corridors, back toward the crossroads, in uncomfortable silence.
“Where are we going?” I asked, finally breaking the tension that filled the air between us.
“Somewhere quiet. Where we can talk,” Ciaran replied.
“Oh good. You know, I don’t think you and I talk enough,” I joked, trying to ease the tension. Ciaran didn’t take the bait, he just kept walking, eyes straight ahead.
We walked north of the crossroads, in the direction of the Cistern. I hadn’t been back since I came down here, desperately trying to avoid death by funeral pyre. My stomach was in knots—what did Ciaran want to talk about? I tried to go with the flow and follow his lead. But I was a mess inside.
Eventually we reached a door in the rock wall that led to the Cistern.
This wasn’t where we’d come across on the raft, but a little further around the giant circular body of water.
There was a rocky ledge that jutted out a few feet above the placid surface.
Ciaran conjured those twinkly little lights and sent them to float lazily above the water, then motioned for me to sit.
“What are those lights called?” I blurted out. I had seen him conjure them often, but I didn’t have a name for them.
Ciaran gave one of his signature half-grins. “Féerie lights?”
“Really?” I asked. I didn’t know what I expected. I supposed féerie lights made sense.
Ciaran snorted in response. “Yes.”
“Okay.” I pursed my lips, holding back a laugh.
We sat in silence, our legs dangling above the water.
We were seated close—so close his thigh pressed up against mine.
I felt every single place where our bodies touched.
He had said he wanted to come here and talk, but he wasn’t saying a thing.
Nervously, I picked up some pebbles and idly tossed them into the Cistern, wondering just how deep the water was.
I had a passing thought that maybe I shouldn’t disturb it.
Giant tentacled monsters flashed through my mind.
Ciaran seemed to be reading my thoughts as I watched the pebbles descend past the point that I could see.
“It’s a man-made structure—the Cistern. There isn’t a terrifying creature or anything in there,” he said, nudging my leg with his.
I was reminded of our first conversation here, on the raft.
It seemed so long ago—the night he saved me after the gala.
I hadn’t known a thing about him other than he was wanted for terrorism.
But still, I had been drawn to him. I didn’t quite know why, but I had trusted Ciaran that night.
Just a few short weeks later, and I could hardly imagine my life without him in it.
The words I did not want to admit or speak, even in my own head, darted out—flashing before I could wrangle them back into a dark corner.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Ciaran’s low voice carried out over the water, bouncing back off the high ceilings.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a singer too?” The thought whooshed out of me, no louder than a whisper.
“I thought you of all people would understand why.” Ciaran shrugged.
Vulnerability. Damnit. It seemed that would be the word of the evening. And if he could do it? If he could sing the words he had written on stage in front of an audience? Then I could tell him this. If I could tell anyone, it would be him.
“Before my mother died, she made me swear that I would never sing in front of anyone except my father. I didn’t know why.
But now I think… I think she knew about the magic.
I think they both did. I think that neither of them told me about it for my whole life and now I’m here because I broke that oath.
” The words slipped out over the still water of the Cistern, and now I could never take them back.
“Oh, Seraphina…” Ciaran inhaled.
“They should have told me.” I choked back a sob. I wasn’t going to cry. Not tonight.
“I know it doesn’t help at all, but I’m sure they were trying to protect you,” Ciaran offered.
“I know. But it hurts. So fucking much.” A tear slipped free as my own eyes betrayed me.
“I wish there was something I could say to ease your pain.” Neither of us looked at each other; we both stared out over the water.
“Hearing you sing helped, I think,” I admitted, in a small voice. “You were incredible. And the lyrics…” I trailed off.
“In my homeland, singing and storytelling are one and the same. Our songs are poems. They are always deeply, deeply personal.” Ciaran’s brogue came out stronger when he spoke of his native country. My stomach twisted at the musical lilt.
“What was it like there?” I asked, steering the conversation away from the subject matter of his songs.
The lights Ciaran conjured reflected off the scars on his face as he pondered my question. His brows knitted together, as if it pained him to think about his homeland.