The Fake Divination Offense
He’s teasing me? About things he knows are lies, and stuff he knows I’ve done wrong, but instead of chastising me about how I can do better, he’s … smiling.
Who is this guy?
“Lot of weight your opinion will hold.” I finish up the bacon as the elevator moves, still so unbothered, the most unbothered.
“The Council may be able to justify you leaving with me, but when they find out it’s so you could scamper off to a den of underground activity without the intent to bring it all crumbling down? They’ll riot in the street.”
Erik laughs. “Not all of our missions are overt fighting. On occasion, we do hit up seedier places for intel. This isn’t too far out of my wheelhouse—as you’ll learn, when you join the Hero Council.”
“Oh, sweet summer child, this is nowhere close to your wheelhouse.” I pole-vault over his assumption that I’ll pass the final tests and make it through the Council’s vote, pulling my shoulders back, all official-like. “Which is why we’ll start with rule number one.”
His eyes glimmer. “Two.”
“What?”
“You said the first ground rule was that I don’t transform into Hero Mode.”
I suck my teeth. “Yes. Obviously. As I was saying: rule number two—”
He smirks. I want to smack him.
“—you can’t ask where we’re going. Do you have any tracking stuff on you?”
He pats his pocket. “My phone.”
“Give it here.” I hold out my hand, expecting him to bluster about how he can’t do that, but he drops it into my grasp without hesitating.
My gods. He realizes what he’s giving me, right?
If I slip my phone next to his, I can create a connection and dive back in later. His phone probably links to the Council’s network.
This is it.
This is my way in.
I stand there as the elevator whirls us down, one hand cradling my food, the other clutching his phone.
Erik watches me, calm, trusting.
With a few taps of my thumb, I disable his location services and pass the phone back.
It’s like I’m watching a B movie of myself. That’s not me, harmlessly handing the phone to him. What cheap crap is this?
Erik tucks his phone away. “What else?”
What else what? What else can I fuck up by being an overemotional sap?
“Um. Number three is a version of the no-Hero-Mode promise: you let me take the lead and do exactly what I say. I’m accepting a huge risk bringing you. You have to listen to me.”
Erik’s gaze goes blistering over that smirk that seems permanent. “I can obey you, Lux. It’s the other way around that’s always been in question.”
A strangled noise vibrates across my tongue. I smother it with the last of the pancakes.
“N-number four,” I stammer. Fuck, get your shit together, Keraunos.
“You need to wear a blindfold for the trip.” I pause.
“Number four point five: we need to get a blindfold. And a disguise for you. Number five: I assume the Council has a garage somewhere? Because we’re going to need a car, and I’m driving. You’re my passenger princess.”
“Thor help me.” But Erik pushes a different button on the elevator, one lower than the lobby. He’s still grinning like he’s enjoying himself immensely.
It makes me seventeen kinds of uncomfortable.
We’re about to go somewhere that represents everything he’s always preaching against. It’s dangerous, as he so sensibly pointed out. Bad guys, bad decisions, yadda yadda. Why does he look happy? What changed?
This elevator’s too damn small. The stench of his cologne is everywhere, rich and warm; it’s overpowering the free bits of air in this car.
Stupid Manhattan. Everything’s so tiny.
“These rules are nonnegotiable.” I lift my chin. “And I reserve the right to add more at any time, without warning. For the foreseeable future, you’re my little criminal bitch-boy.”
Erik’s eyes heat again. “That’s not the threat you think it is.”
Woah. What?
He—
What?
Error 404. Page Not Found.
“Boss?” Molly’s voice is a bit panicked in my ear. “Your pulse flatlined—”
“Fine.” I choke, clear my throat. My hands are sweaty on the plate so I scrape one on my shorts. “Fine.” I nod decisively and look anywhere, anywhere, but at Erik. “Fine.”