Chapter 32 #2
I wasn’t sure there was a single thing Bastian couldn’t cook. I shoveled a combination of diced mushrooms, tomatoes, basil, cheddar cheese, and egg into my mouth, like I couldn’t eat fast enough. “Hungry much?” Bastian chuckled beside me, watching me eat for several beats, his eyes dancing.
I moaned. “It’s so frigging good.”
“Good, eat up. You’ll need your strength today.”
Hot fire dropped into my belly. “I…will?”
Because we’d be having so much sex, right? Yes. Good. I was ready for it. It didn’t matter that he’d fucked me thoroughly in the shower after I’d finished coming on his tongue. I could take so much more.
It was funny, because I thought I would be sore. Yet, everything felt fine. Perhaps my prolonged celibacy hadn’t been so detrimental after all. I could go at least another five, maybe six rounds? It depended on how many breaks we took—
“Whatever your thinking, I can smell it.” My lips parted. “We’re going to your apartment this afternoon, sugar. We had a deal, remember? I’m going to magic your apartment back to normal. It needs to appear as if you’ve gone back to your everyday life, just in case Luke comes looking.”
My mind came to a screeching halt. Luke. Apartment. Bait…
I set my fork down, stomach clenching into a tight ball. “I suddenly find I’m not all that hungry.”
“Elle.” Bastian’s voice was gentle. “Eat your breakfast—lunch—whatever. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
“But you’re not going to make me stay there, right? While he’s still on the loose?”
Bastian’s body went rigid. “You will stay where I can keep you safe.” His words came out as a menacing growl. “With me.”
I nodded and relaxed, glancing down at my plate. It really was a freaking good omelet. I lifted my fork again, taking another bite.
Around us, vases of pink roses littered the kitchen. He’d cleaned up his grand gesture in the bathroom by summoning additional vases to house the loose roses. Now they were everywhere—a reminder. My cheeks washed with heat.
“Still thinking naughty thoughts about me?”
“Will you just—eat your food!” I snapped, even though there wasn’t any bite to my voice. “God!”
He chuckled, then returned to his omelet. My stomach relaxed and I managed to devour the rest of my food—not hard, considering it was incredibly delicious—and finish my second cup of coffee. Then we were headed out the door to my apartment.
Our drive through the city was quiet. Bastian didn’t appear talkative, and I didn’t want to push.
Instead, my mind replayed our words, our actions, everything.
It would be silly to think I was somehow special—that after he’d had his pick of partners over the years—correction, centuries—I was the one he’d make an exception for. And yet, his actions spoke otherwise.
Bastian found a spot along the curb and parallel parked his truck.
I punched in the code on the building and we took the elevator to my floor.
My heart lurched at the sight of Peter’s closed door.
There was no longer caution tape lining the entry.
It wasn’t swarming with police. Everything looked as it ought, as if he might pop his head out and say, “Eh, Rose? All right, girl?” And I’d nod and say, “Yep, thanks, Peter. How’s Teddy?
” And he’d chuckle, regaling me with Teddy’s latest antics while I unlocked my door, then we’d bid each other goodbye.
Only to do it all over again the next time I came home.
“You okay, Elle baby?” Bastian’s hand tightened on mine, sending butterflies fluttering through my chest. I nodded, pulling my gaze from Peter’s door, focusing on mine instead.
"I had the landlord replace the locks," he said by way of explanation, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and handing them over. "Hope you don't mind."
“I… Thank you for doing that.”
He nodded, motioning me forward with his head.
I took a deep breath, fitting the key in the lock, trying to keep my hand from shaking. When the door swung open, I felt the same shock lurch through me at the disaster. It was just as it had been days ago, completely trashed, everything broken. I stood in the doorway, blinking.
Where was I supposed to start?
Fingers trailed down my arm, then a hand snaked around my front as Bastian pressed himself in behind me. He lowered his mouth to my ear. "I'll handle the big repairs. You can put things back where you want them. Something tells me you'll want it juuust right."
I huffed. “Yeah…probably. That… That sounds good.”
I entered the main living area, reaching for the bowl to deposit my keys, only to find it was on the ground.
That was the first thing I picked up, the first thing I put back into place.
The first step to rebuilding my life—again—after Luke had upended it.
Then with Bastian’s help, we began moving around the room.
I watched him work for a few minutes, unable to tear my gaze away. He went to the television and pulled some black smoky tendrils of…something…from his metals. They settled over the screen, mending the shattered cracks. A couple of blinks later he was lifting it upright, back into place.
“Wow…” I shook my head, trying to clear away my surprise. “You really just…did that.”
“Doubted me, did you?” He grinned, letting his dimple out. That freaking dimple.
My mouth opened and closed. Then I smiled. “Not even for a minute.”
He winked and got busy with other things. As soon as the shelves and television cabinet was set to rights, I began grabbing objects, books mostly, and setting them back where they belonged. The items that were broken were set aside for Bastian’s attention.
We moved through the living space into the dining room and kitchen.
When I spotted the broken shards of the pasta bowl and spoiled lasagna, I began cleaning it up.
That fateful night felt like ages ago. “I can’t believe that I found out about Professor Miller’s death from the news,” I muttered, using a wad of paper towels to pick up the glass and spoiled food.
Bastian looked up from where he repaired a set of broken drawers. The bottoms had been punched out. The silverware and cookware were scattered everywhere, because Luke was anything if not thorough.
“I mean, I guess I deserved it for not keeping up with her. But still.” He hummed, continuing to work. I grabbed a rag to clean the remainder of spoiled food from the floor, then paused. “You never told me who hired you to find her murderer. You mentioned the will and her family. Was it them?”
Bastian hesitated. “For the record, Elle, that kind of information is confidential.” I gave him my best glare. “Yes, it was her family.”
I nodded, then set about scrubbing the floor. Except—
“How did her family know to hire you?”
“What do you mean?” His words were slow, measured.
“I mean… You’re a goblin who works for the fae. They wouldn’t have hired you through the WBI. How would they have known who you are? What you do? Where to find you?” I fumbled with the rag, then let it fall, standing to face him. Something wasn’t adding up.
He set the drawer on the countertop, arms hanging limp at his sides. “You didn’t know, did you? I wondered when you never mentioned it.”
“Didn’t know what?”
He ran a hand over the shaved side of his scalp and swore. “Professor Miller was…she was a witch, sugar.” I blinked back at him. “Not a very powerful one, from what I understand. But she did come from a semi-prominent witch family—the Millers, on her father’s side.”
“You’re joking, right? This is just a joke. She wasn’t a witch, Bastian. I’d have known.”
He took a step back, crossing his arms. “Oh? That necklace lets you see a witch’s glamor, does it? What, exactly does a witch’s glamor look like?”
A sinking sensation filled my belly because…
"They don't," I whispered. "Witches are one of the few supernaturals who don't have or need glamor.
They can hide in plain sight." The realization was a punch to the gut.
"I knew that. I've always known that. But I never suspected Jane because I trusted her completely. I never even looked for signs because…why would I have reason to?”
That Jane had never mentioned such a monumental thing to me felt… Well, it felt a little like a betrayal.
Bastian’s face softened. “I’m sorry, sugar.
” He came over and wrapped me in a bear hug, propping his chin on top of my head.
For a moment, I let him. I took a deep breath, then another, but I couldn’t fight the tears filling my eyes.
My emotions morphed into anger. I roughly pushed against Bastian, slipping out of his embrace.
“You’ve known for days and you didn’t think to tell me? Didn’t think to mention it as part of the case? You knew what my relationship was with her and you, what, thought I shouldn’t know? If you had a feeling I didn’t know, you should have told me, brought it up. Something!”
“Sugar…”
“No! Don’t—sugar me.” I backed up a step. “You should have told me, Bastian.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face, then wrapped them around the back of my neck, lacing my fingers together, looking up at the ceiling.
“At first, I assumed you knew. Then I figured if you didn’t know, there was a reason she didn’t tell you. And then I just sort of…didn’t think about it again.”
Pain filled the back of my throat. “Well, great! I’m glad you just forgot.”
Bastian’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, Elle.”
My breath whooshed out of me. This… This wasn’t how things were supposed to go between us. I was messing this up. I shook my head.
“No. I…” I let out a frustrated groan. “No. It’s… You don’t owe me an apology. Not really. It’s not your fault she didn’t tell me. I’m just…”
Looking for someone to blame. That wasn’t very fair of me. And for someone who had avoided relationships, I wasn’t giving him a good reason to enjoy being in one by taking my anger out on him and blaming him for this. I dropped my hands.
“You’re angry. I get it. I’m angry for you—that she didn’t share this with you. That you had to find out this way. And I’m sorry that I had to be the one to break it to you.” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding.
I nodded, then closed the distance between us. “I just—I don’t want you to keep things from me, okay? If you think it’s something I should know, tell me. I just… I hate that feeling, you know? Luke did it all the time, actually. Intentionally kept things from me.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, and his arms closed around me, pulling me close.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I know you and Professor Miller were close.
Her family knows of me through the fae. That’s why they hired me.
Given that she had witch blood, they wanted someone supernatural involved, didn’t trust the normie government to do an adequate job. ”
“That makes sense, I guess. I’m… I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
"It's all forgiven." He tilted my chin up with a finger.
I nodded, then bridged the distance between us, bringing our lips together in a gentle kiss. I let everything about Professor Miller's betrayal fade into the distance—for now—and set about fixing the rest of my apartment.