Chapter 41
Forty-One
Salvatore
Where you at? Feeling lonely tonight.
I grimace at Simone’s message and the kissy-face emoji she added afterward before shoving my silenced phone into my jeans’ back pocket. My perch in the big oak across the street from Elodie’s house makes the gesture a little harder than usual.
I lean against the trunk, legs sprawled on the broad branch that juts out over the sidewalk, and pop a shrimp cracker into my mouth. The snap of it breaking apart and the briny, fishy flavor are satisfying enough to override my irritation with my distant-cousin-with-benefits.
Formerly with benefits. I told her last week I wasn’t interested in hooking up anymore. Seems like I might need to say it a few more times to get the message to stick.
Maybe I was thinking a little too much with my dick when I started things up with her.
My dick isn’t what’s keeping me in this tree through the drumming of raindrops against my shell of magic. Not that Little Salvatore isn’t interested in what Elodie Devine has going on. But my mind’s hooked on her too, like it’s never been for any girl before.
I squint through the thickening night. The glow of the nearby streetlamp wavers with the falling rain. Light shines through a few of the curtained windows on the Devine house, mostly on the upper two floors.
Is Elodie’s bedroom that one overlooking the front drive, or is hers around back? If I wasn’t so wary of the kinds of magical security her dad must have in place, I’d have already snuck in one day to find out for myself.
I’m not going to be much of a guardian devil if some fancy enchantment gets me arrested.
So I’m settling for this vantage point which should give me a view of anyone coming or going from the house. That’s what’s most important. No more toxic assholes are getting to my girl on my watch.
Someday she’s going to invite me in. I’ll be right there in that bedroom with her—probably to her dad’s horror, but he’ll just have to deal with it.
Another shrimp cracker crunches between my teeth. Would Elodie want to share them?
My relatives on both sides wrinkle their noses when they see me with a bag, but that’s part of the reason I like them so much. No chance of anyone stealing my stash when they’re rummaging through the kitchen during my parents’ regular “business” meetings.
As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone vibrates again. I yank it out. When I glance at the screen, the cracker sours in my mouth.
It’s my dad. I’ve got a job for you. How soon can you be home?
How about never?
I glare at the text for several seconds, debating how to answer. In my hesitation, the phone vibrates again with an incoming call from him.
Fucking impatient. Like I exist just to jump when he hollers.
In his mind, I do.
My gut still pinches with apprehension before my resolve overwhelms it. Jaw clenched, I turn my phone right off.
They say it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, right? How unfortunate that my phone “ran out of battery” right before he called.
A twinge runs through the damaged nerves in my neck and shoulder.
Whatever. If he gets pissed off at me, I can take it. The job I’ve given myself is more important than any stupid power play he’s making.
I dig back into my bag of crackers. The rain gradually peters out until all I hear is the occasional plop of a drip against the magical barrier.
I leave my conjured shelter in place, because it really sucks to get one of those drops right in the face when you’re not expecting it, and also because the magic is concealing me from view as well.
Probably whoever owns the yard this tree is in wouldn’t be so keen on me hanging out in the branches. People can be ridiculously uptight about that kind of thing.
The lamp glow reflects off the puddles scattering the road below. One of the lights blinks off in Elodie’s house, and then another.
I gulp the last couple of crackers and shove the crumpled bag in my other back pocket. Don’t leave evidence behind: Criminal Activity 101.
The movement sends another brief twinge through my neck. I roll my shoulders, debating how long I want to keep up my watch.
The house probably does have the best security system of any place in this city—even better after what happened to Elodie last week. I heard her dad laying into the headmaster about the academy’s fuck-up. He doesn’t want anything else happening to his little girl.
Once everyone’s asleep and there’s no chance of comings and goings, she should be safe until tomorrow morning. Annoying as it is, I do have to sleep occasionally myself.
Another light goes out, so there’s only one left on the third floor. A silhouette passes the window, but the puffy cloud of hair tells me it’s not Elodie. Must be the woman I’ve seen in the garden a couple of times—her aunt, I think.
I’m about ready to call it a night when another movement at the side of the house catches my eye.
A figure in a black shirt and leggings eases onto a second-floor window ledge—and then jumps to the ground.
I jerk upright with a jolt of alarm, but Elodie slips into view between the hedges a moment later.
She hurries off down the street, staying close to the shadows of the yards, clutching one strap of a small black backpack.
She’s tied her hair in a bun at the back of her neck, but the lamplight glints off the purple streaks amid the darker strands.
That girl is full of surprises.
If she’s going for stealth, I don’t know why she hasn’t cloaked herself in a concealment spell like I have. But I can’t complain, since if she had, I wouldn’t know she’d left.
Where the hell is she going at half past ten on a Monday night, dressed like a cat burglar?
Time to find out.
Pulling my own concealing shell of ephemera with me, I jump down from the tree and head after her.
I keep far enough behind her that it’s not likely she’d hear my footsteps even if my hold on the magic wobbles. Thankfully she stays on foot, so it’s easy to keep pace.
She walks briskly, barely making a sound, but once we’re several blocks away from her house, she doesn’t seem at all worried about being seen.
A grin crosses my face. I’m about to find out some secret most people don’t know about her.
It’s only fair after how well she’s seen me.
She takes a few abrupt turns, and my heart pounds faster until I come around the corner and spot her up ahead. I don’t dare get any closer, though. She’s a sharp one.
After weaving vaguely east through her swanky neighborhood for a while, she veers away from the houses. All along the far side of the next road, trees loom ominously in the darkness.
The big swath of parkland at the edge of primo lucent territory stretches along the river on a twisted path right down the center of the city. What would be going on there tonight that Elodie would be interested in?
Maybe it’s only a shortcut?
Curiosity and apprehension jangle through my nerves side by side as I stay on track behind her. She reaches one of the paved paths leading between the trees and turns down it.
The darkness swallows up her form. I hustle after her, easing off the path onto the grassy ground between the trees. She’s definitely up to something.
And so is someone else, I think. As I stride along, torn between staying discreet and keeping Elodie in sight, another form flickers into view on the path between her and me.
It’s only a split-second impression, a filmy figure with a hood hiding its hair, there and gone.
Narrowing my eyes, I push a little magic toward that spot.
I can’t see them anymore, can’t tell anything about them, but there’s a patch of condensed energy following Elodie just like I am. Someone whose concealment spell isn’t quite as stable as mine.
A flare of protective fury rushes through my body, tensing my muscles. Who does this fucker think he—or she—is, stalking my girl?
Every urge in me roars to jump the stalker, shatter their magic, and pummel all the shady intentions out of them. I push myself a little faster… and then clench my jaw against the blaring impulses.
Elodie’s other follower is sticking too close to her for me to tackle him without her noticing. I still want to find out what she’s doing.
And if she knows I followed her here, she’ll be much more careful if she comes again. I might not catch her.
Who knows what danger she’d encounter then, without me to watch over her?
She didn’t seem to like me jumping in the last couple of times someone or something threatened her. I’ve seen her fight. I have to give her credit—she can handle herself.
I should probably give her a chance to handle this scalder too.
In a setting like this, she’ll be on guard. Whatever this prick’s intentions are, he won’t take her by surprise.
And if it turns out she can’t handle him on her own, I’ll be right here to leap in and make him pay.