CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Myra
I woke up in Ravi’s living room with a stinging sensation in my left shoulder.
The blanket he’d given me to lie on had shifted while I slept, and in my exhaustion, I’d apparently scratched my skin raw.
It looked like I’d taken a digger the night before and felt about as good.
I sighed at the thought of asking Sasha for some sort of salve to put on it.
Owing her anything seemed like a terrible idea.
Given how light it was in the room, despite the perpetual gloom of the city, I knew Ravi had long since left.
A pang of guilt twinged in my belly and forced me to my feet.
After everything he’d done for me the night before—and everything he’d threatened to do—I didn’t want to thank him by being late for work.
I scooped up my clothes from the night before and grabbed my phone.
A quick screen check showed me that Yael had texted a few times and called twice for good measure.
Maybe he felt shitty for bailing on me at the healer’s, or maybe he was tracking me down so he could drag me to our next interrogation, but either way, I wasn’t in the mood.
We’d narrowly gotten out of The Lion’s Den without issue; I was in no hurry to see what kind of shenanigans our next encounter would bring.
After slipping my boots on, I headed outside, the sun peeking through the clouds as I hurried down the street.
I hoped it was late enough that the nightwalkers of the Playground would have long since passed out, but not so late that the more legitimate residents of our little ‘hood would be up and at ‘em. I didn’t need my presumed walk of shame getting back to the gossips at The Riff Raff.
Laney and Sasha didn’t need any more ammo than they already had.
The corner girls weren’t there to harass me when I finally turned down my road, so I knew it had to be at least ten o’clock. With any luck, I could get cleaned up and make it to work on time.
I ran up the stairs in my ramshackle building, sticking to the edges of the steps to avoid falling through a rotten tread, and burst into my apartment while tugging Ravi’s shirt over my head for expedience.
Without looking, I tossed it toward the bed on my way into the bathroom to turn on the shower.
When I came back out to find a clean towel while the water warmed up, I found the shirt dangling from Yael’s hand.
“Now that’s the way to greet unexpected company.
” He twirled the borrowed shirt around his finger while his line of sight stayed firmly fixed on me and my lack of one.
“I don’t remember you wearing this last night—or that scratch on your shoulder,” he said, baiting me with his tone.
“And it doesn’t look like you slept here.
” The mischief in his eyes gave way to something much darker so quickly I almost missed it. “Should I be jealous?”
“You,” I countered, snatching the shirt back to cover myself, “should be leaving.”
“Oh, come on, little mermaid. I think we’re well past modesty, don’t you? I mean, we did shower together last night—”
“Because we had dead-guy bits all over us,” I argued.
“Never would have happened without those extenuating circumstances.” He managed to look unfazed by my reminder, as though being slathered in blood and guts was a normal occurrence for him.
“Speaking of the dead guy, we need to come up with a plan because I’m pretty sure Argo is going to have realized that Damian is AWOL by now. ”
“I’m sure he has, but that’s not our problem.”
“Um… it is if someone puts together that we did it.”
“Did what?” he asked, splaying his arms wide. “We can’t be accused of a crime that didn’t happen, love. That’s not how these things work.”
“Except it did happen, Yael, and pretending it didn’t won’t make it go away!”
“True, which is why there might be a rumor going around about Damian embezzling money from Argo’s operation, then taking off with his haul last night.
” The satisfaction in his smile told me everything I needed to know about who’d started that rumor.
“The embezzling bit is true enough, according to things Jemma told me, so it shouldn’t take long for Argo to find a trail that supports that story.
And just like that,” he said as he snapped his fingers, “the problem is solved.”
“Okay, but what about the girl?” I asked, folding my arms across my waist. “The one straddling your lap when we walked in? I’m pretty sure she got a good look at us. Especially you.”
“She won’t be an issue.” The confidence he held while dismissing my concern was maddening—and a little unnerving.
“Is she blind or something? Or is she also conveniently ‘on the run’? Because if she can place us with Damian right before he disappeared, that’s not going to end well. I have a feeling that neither of us wants to be in Argo’s crosshairs.”
His amusement fell away, and he stepped out of the faint sunlight reaching across my room into the shade, casting his features in shadow and making them appear sharper and far more ominous than usual. “That isn’t where anyone wants to be, but it won't be a problem—”
“How can you be so sure?” That question escaped me just before an obvious answer dawned on me. “Where did you go last night when you left me with that sadist ‘healer’?” I asked as I fumbled back a step. “Did you… did you kill her?”
His expression slackened for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed and anger crept into his eyes.
“No, I didn’t kill her. I didn’t need to,” he said, inching toward me.
“Argo is notorious for keeping his girls so addicted to drugs—human and magical alike—that they wouldn’t recognize their own mothers if they walked in and slapped them across the face, let alone two randoms they’ve never seen before. ”
“And if they use magic to retrace Damian’s steps and find they end in a room containing traces of his blood?”
“Damian worked security there—his blood is all over that building. And the key word you used there is ‘traces’. A trace amount of blood won’t arouse suspicion.”
I wanted to continue picking apart his argument, but I was running out of angles. He’d clearly thought this through and wasn’t fueled solely by arrogance, as I’d originally suspected. Shocking though that was, I still had a bad feeling about it all that I just couldn’t shake.
Judging by the way his narrowed eyes assessed my expression, I'd done a shit job of hiding that fact. “You’re not convinced.”
I shrugged, feigning calm. “I just don’t share your overt confidence, that’s all.”
Hands clasped behind his back, he bent forward to level his gaze with mine. “You should. It feels amazing.”
“My shower is going to feel amazing, so if you’d kindly fuck off so I can get to it, that’d be great.
Okaythanksbyyyyye.” I turned toward the steam billowing out of the bathroom but didn’t make it any further, courtesy of Yael’s hand that shot out and caught my arm, halting me.
My eyes drifted down to where he held me hostage, then slowly back to his face.
“I’m really, really not in the mood for this right now, Yael.
And if you think that I won’t start swinging because it’s a fight I might lose, then you didn’t pay enough attention to my M.O.
when you worked at the bar. So do us both a favor and let me go. Now.”
His hand lingered a moment longer as he stared at me with a curious expression—like he was seeing me for the first time. “I’ll let you go if you finish this conversation in the shower—”
“I am not showering with you again!” I shouted, yanking my arm out of his grasp.
“And I’m not suggesting you should!” His glare cut through me, his hostility seeming to fill the room like a fog rolling in off the sea. “Is your shower somehow soundproof, or are you capable of conversing while in it?”
Oh.
I rolled my eyes and made my way to the bathroom in a weak attempt to avoid the rising tension in my bedroom. “Give me a sec to get in, and then you can have your talk via hostage situation if you must. But I swear, if you try anything, I’ll kill you—”
“You’ll try—”
“—and if I can’t, Ravi will on my behalf…
with a smile on his face.” I pushed the door shut and quickly stripped off the sweatpants and my undergarments, then hopped in the shower.
The squeal of the metal grommets on the shower rod cued Yael’s entrance.
A blast of cold entered with him before he closed the door behind him.
“Ravi adores me too much to kill me.”
“I wouldn't be so certain of that,” I argued, realizing too late the corner I’d backed myself into.
“I’m curious as to why you’re so certain he would. Care to share?”
“He’s always watched out for me, and he doesn’t like bullies.”
“I’m not a bully.”
“Says the guy who would have watched me drown if I didn’t agree to his terms.”
“True,” he said, knocking the toilet seat cover down with a bang, “but Ravi doesn’t know about that, does he?”
I squirmed behind the thin white curtain, hoping he couldn’t sense my unease through the barrier. “Press your luck with him and find out the hard way if you want to; that’s fine with me. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“That would be challenging if I’m already dead, love, but I promise I’d try,” he countered with a hint of mischief in his tone. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to say I told you so—”
“Can we hurry this conversation along? I need to get to work.”
“Correction: you need to come with me to interrogate our next suspect.”
“Do you even know where she is?”
“I do.”
I waited for further explanation, then realized it wasn’t coming. “Great. Then you can wait until my shift is over. We’ll go straight there, and I’ll get you allllll the answers you want. You don’t want to piss off Ravi and test my theory about his distaste for you, do you?”
Even through the rushing water, I could hear his annoyed sigh. “Fine. What time are you done?”
I grinned with satisfaction. “Closing.”
“Bloody hell… fine. I’ll come get you then. Be ready to go.” The floor creaked as he stood, followed by the heavy sound of his soles on the wood floor. “And Myra? Be sure you keep up this little charade of ours while you’re there.” The note of warning in his tone was clear.
“Stop making it difficult and that won’t be a problem.”
Ominous laughter filled the room, then faded right before the bathroom door snicked shut, and I couldn’t help but wonder what in the hell about that he found funny.