Chapter 5
I woke up groggy—which wasn’t usual for me—but I had to blink a few times before I remembered where I was. The light filtering into the room was painfully bright, and everything smelled a lot better than my dad’s place.
Grace’s apartment.
I was slumped uncomfortably into the corner of the sectional, propped up by the roughly fifty decorative cushions that covered the sofa.
Grace had curled up on her end of the couch, but our hands had sought each other out in sleep, our fingers loosely intertwined between us.
That was an unexpected development, I mused, staring at our hands.
Had I ever held hands with anyone? It wasn’t in my nature to seek out that kind of non-sexual intimacy, but I didn’t hate it.
Grace’s hand looked so dainty next to mine—smooth golden brown skin, slim fingers, nail polish that reminded me of ballerinas or candy floss or some shit.
The moon phase tattoos stood out strikingly on my fingers in comparison, all done in dark shades of blue and purple that Dare despised but did anyway, because he was good like that and he needed the practice working with color.
How could Grace and I be total opposites—from our appearance to our very natures—yet fit together so well? What was that if not some divine, soul tying magic?
I didn’t want to risk waking her, but I was about to piss myself if I didn’t get up soon. The moment I shifted my hand away, Grace woke with a start, pastel-colored eyes blinking sleepily up at me. Fucking hell, she was even prettier in the light of day.
“Oh, did I fall asleep?” she asked, seemingly talking to herself as she pushed up into a sitting position, and looked around her like she was surprised to find her couch there. “Shoot, what time is it? I have work today.”
She patted the couch, looking for her phone while I pulled mine out of my back pocket, squinting at the clock through the cracked screen. “It’s eight am.”
“Sugar!” she squealed, finally finding her phone in the cushions and snatching it up. Fucking adorable . “I have to be there in half an hour. Why didn’t my alarm go off? Oh, the battery died. Fudge, I don’t even have time for a run.”
She ran? Around here? That didn’t seem safe.
I was mostly confident that daimons would leave her alone—we didn’t really give a shit about agathos unless they made themselves a problem for us—but humans were plenty capable of doing bad shit without daimonic influence, and Milton was full of those kinds of humans.
Maybe she had some sort of protective gift from her goddess?
I was not used to caring about other people’s safety. It made my chest hurt.
Grace leaped off the couch, oblivious to my internal struggle, and made for what I assumed was her bedroom, while I quickly let myself into the small bathroom to take a piss.
Like the living area, the bathroom was mostly neutral colors with green houseplants on every available surface.
The more I thought about it, the more unusual that struck me.
Agathos notoriously did not give a fuck about anything other than human life.
The more humans the better according to their ideology, the planet be damned.
It was the basis of the falling out between the founding goddesses that had led to the creation of their own armies—daimons and agathos.
Maybe the agathos made an exception for houseplants.
By the time I’d finished and washed my hands, Grace was waiting outside the door, looking obviously anxious.
I added ‘ doesn’t like being late’ to the mental file I was compiling on this mysterious woman who’d bowled into my life like a wrecking ball.
Not that there was much to wreck, I didn’t have any concrete plans anyway, but she’d smashed all my vague ideas apart by just existing.
I lounged on the sofa, pulling out my morning pick-me-up from my pocket and carefully arranging it into a neat line on the silver card holder I kept handy for these kinds of situations.
My movements faltered as Grace reemerged from the bathroom, dressed in agathos, Sunday-best chic.
Swishy berry-colored knee-length skirt, white long-sleeved blouse tucked into it, hair pulled back into a low ponytail with a gingham scrunchie, makeup so subtle only the slightly thicker eyelashes and light sheen on her lips gave it away.
Goddess above, she looked like she was doing a modern Little House on the Prairie cosplay, and I was weirdly into it. Maybe I had a secret good girl kink that I didn’t know about?
It struck me then as I was staring at her like a lunatic that this was probably goodbye.
I hadn’t even meant to stay as long as I had, we’d just happened to fall asleep next to each other.
There was a mysterious connection to one another that made me want to stay, but there wasn’t any reason for me to, really.
“Do you think you could come back tonight?” Grace asked hurriedly, grabbing items haphazardly and shoving them in her purse. “To talk more?”
The fist that had been quickly crushing my heart seemed to ease its grip. That probably would have been a good moment to tell her I was currently homeless.
“Sure. I’ll come back,” I said instead. No need to drop the in-between-houses bomb so early.
“My phone is dead so I can’t get your number, but my, uh, parents still pay my bill so that’s probably not a good idea anyway,” Grace muttered, sounding embarrassed about that fact. “I don’t know if they can see who I message. It’s never been a concern before.”
“What are you doing?!” she shrieked suddenly, turning to face me and startling me out of my reverie.
“Staring at you?” I hedged, confused by her panicked tone.
“Is that,” she began, before lowering her voice dramatically. “ Cocaine? ”
“This?” I asked, glancing down at the neat line of powder. Possibly I hadn’t thought this through. “It is. I’m guessing you’re not asking because you want some?”
“No,” she gasped, looking appalled. “Why do you want it?”
“It’s morning?” I suggested, and far earlier than I was used to getting up at that. “It wakes me up.”
Grace’s brow furrowed with irritation and I wanted to smile at the unexpected reaction. She’d been unfailingly polite since the moment I’d encountered her opposite Onslaught last night. Sweet as pie, even when Rae had been obviously getting on her last nerves.
There was a secret passionate side under that perfectly demure facade, and I wanted to see it.
“Drink coffee like a normal person,” Grace snapped, before seeming to catch herself, muttering something like ‘be sweet’ under her breath. “That was rude of me.”
“No, no,” I replied easily, trying not to smile at her sudden display of temper as I collected it back into the bag. “Your house, your rules. I’ll refrain.”
“Would you?” Grace asked, wincing apologetically.
“I’ll give coffee a try.” I shrugged. I wasn’t convinced coffee would be as effective at waking me up as coke, but I could respect her boundaries.
“Great,” Grace breathed. “Okay, shoot. I really have to go.” She rushed over to the door, grabbing a pair of tan ankle boots and shoving her feet hastily in, snatching her purse off the side table. “Stay here as long as you like. Do you have to get to work too?”
“I’m a freelancer,” I replied evasively. Surely, there was a daimon around here hiring. Maybe that asshole, Viper, needed a hand running the gym.
“Okay, well just lock up when you’re ready to go. There’s a spare key here,” Grace said hastily, gesturing at a hook on the wall. “You should probably be careful coming and going, though this area is pretty quiet in the morning. There’s a balcony out back if you want fresh air. It’s quite private.”
Grace hesitated for a moment, her hand resting on the door handle, and a foreign sensation brushed at my skin, making me startle. It was like whispers of emotion that weren’t mine, seeking me out. Communicating with me. Grace’s emotions.
It should have felt weird, or wrong—unsettling, at the very least—but it felt kind of nice .
I could feel what she needed—the sense of longing that was there that she wasn’t ready to articulate.
Like her body was silently issuing mine instructions.
Letting that instinct guide me, I pushed off the couch and crossed the small room to her, resting one hand on her lower back and pressing a kiss against her hair.
It was the chastest kiss I’d ever given anyone, and it felt amazing.
If Dare could see me now, getting all worked up about kissing a girl’s hair , he’d laugh his ass off.
Grace exhaled softly, her entire body relaxing at my touch. I lingered longer than I needed to, memorizing the floral scent that might have been perfume or was maybe just her, the feel of her next to me, the way the top of her hair brushed against my nose when she turned her head.
It wasn’t an overwhelming urge like Grace had described soul bonds as experiencing, but that need to touch her, be near her...it wasn’t nothing either.
“Have a good day,” I murmured in her ear, a little shiver running down her body as she breathily returned the sentiment, then fled the apartment like there was a monster on her tail, which was close enough to the truth.
It was fascinating. I’d always known that agathos were weird about lust, but Grace seemed borderline afraid of it. Which made sense, if she’d never experienced it before, I reminded myself.
The moment she left, the warmth she radiated vanished with her.
This whole area of Milton was a little more upmarket—which in reality meant a little less decrepit—and it lacked the screaming neighbors and street brawls I was accustomed to waking up to, sometime closer to mid afternoon.
Wanting to be true to my word, I tucked the drugs back in my jacket and poked around her tiny but fancy kitchen until I found a coffee press.