Chapter 34 Kali
KALI
“Try it.” Gedeon placed a blue-and-white-striped cup on the table in front of me. The porcelain glinted in the morning light pouring out the kitchen windows.
I carefully sniffed the steaming liquid and scrunched up my nose. “What is it?”
“Coffee.” He smiled, carefree, the tension of last night erased by the identical cup of coffee before him.
For years, I’d secretly wished to try the drink.
The scent of it had lingered in the kitchen on the eleventh floor of the Spire for the single day I’d worked under the Head of Welfare.
Five golden bags had sparkled on the shelf above the glossy red kettle, and the deep aroma had taunted me throughout the morning and lunch as the green-banded had filled their cups, the luxury of coffee available to all but the bearers of black wristbands.
A black market for coffee existed in Ilasall, but its price was sky high, even for a spoonful. And I’d barely scraped by to afford a flaky cream puff pastry, so coffee had been out of the question.
Who thought that, one abduction later, I’d be holding a cup of the too-expensive drink made by my kidnapper? Certainly not me.
The first sip soaked my taste buds in bitterness, and I stuck my tongue out, waving a hand before it, hoping the air would take away the unpleasant flavor. “How can you drink this?” I shuddered at the dark liquid swirling in the hand-painted cup. At least it didn’t burn the faint scar on my palm.
Gedeon laughed, his clean-shaven jaw softening around the edges, and headed for the fridge. “I like it,” he said as he swung the door open and selected a glass bottle.
“It’s disgusting.” I pushed the cup away from me. You couldn’t pay me to finish it. “You actually enjoy this?”
“Yes.” He seated himself across from me and drained half of my coffee, licking his thick and fluffy lips—so thick and fluffy I wanted to drink them.
I swallowed the lingering aftertaste on the back of my tongue.
“My mother loved it, and my father would always arrange for a new bag to reach her every month, for as long as I can remember. Curious, I would steal a spoon sometimes.”
“So that’s how your thieving tendencies began? And moved on from coffee to people?”
He laughed again, and the rumbling sound rolled over me in a rain of tingles.
“You could say that.” He untwisted the bottle’s cap, the clear glass matte from the condensation.
“No surprise, she caught me in the act. But instead of reprimanding me, she shared how to soften its taste.” Gedeon filled the space in my cup with milk, added a teaspoon of sugar, and mixed the liquids with a teaspoon.
“Here.” He handed me the upgraded coffee. “Trust me.”
I sniffed it. Sweetness overpowered the bitterness—less an assault on my senses and more of a caress.
His lips quirked as he observed me. Could he do anything besides smirk and raise his eyebrows? It seemed that was all he was capable of. And brooding. So much brooding. Also, dirty and disapproving looks. He had an arsenal of them.
But when the corners of his mouth curved in a genuine smile, I wanted to capture it and stuff it into the box under my bed for safekeeping.
I took a hesitant sip. “It’s good.”
It was amazing. Creamy and rich, and sigh-worthy.
I downed half the cup in one gulp. If my body didn’t require water to survive, I’d drink this all day long.
“Won’t you leave some for me?” Zion asked as he strolled into the kitchen. He slumped beside me, an arm draped on the backrest of my chair.
“Did Eislyn clear you to leave?” His stitches could tear if he didn’t rest.
“I am sure she did not.” Gedeon grabbed a clean cup from the cupboard above the sink and began making the same coffee concoction he’d done for me.
Zion wrapped his hand around mine holding my cup and raised it to his mouth. The patch of my skin his lips touched went numb. “Delicious,” he proudly announced, then released me to take the cup Gedeon had put on the table in front of him.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I frowned at his bandaged-up stomach, currently hidden under the bright green t-shirt.
He licked the coffee glinting on his lips. “Eislyn gave me some pain meds. I can’t teach my classes if I can’t raise my arms above my head.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Gedeon heaved a sigh. “You are. You truly are. Like the countless times before, you are not returning to the training fields until Eislyn clears you.”
Zion opened his mouth to protest, but Gedeon shut him down. I tuned out their discussion on the changes in training schedules and who would temporarily take on Zion’s role as the close combat teacher while he recovered.
A short-haired blonde dressed in a peach-colored dress walking past the window had snatched my attention.
Her heart-shaped face and the kindness in her faint smile were too similar to Malaya’s.
I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since waking up halfway on top of Zion in the infirmary two hours ago.
Glad he hadn’t awakened before me—that would’ve meant definite trouble—I’d carefully untangled myself and jumped off.
A peek into the adjoining room had shown both Malaya and Eislyn still asleep.
“You really care about her.” Gedeon positioned his identical blue-and-white-striped cup’s handle to be parallel to the edge of the pale wood table. “Malaya.”
“She reminds me of someone.” Alora. Her life after the teachers had separated us.
“Who? I’ll bring you whoever you want,” Zion offered.
He would. I knew he would. I hadn’t asked for that nasty guard, and yet he’d delivered him to me as a gift. “You already know who,” I said quietly, my heart shriveling. “Alora, the one I’ve asked you to get out as part of our deal.”
“We will bring her here,” Gedeon assured. “Sadira and Ryder are working out the issue of the chips together with Damia’s team. Her name alone is not enough to locate her. But if she has survived this long, a delay will not make a difference.”
I fiddled with my coffee. “I know,” I murmured. He and Zion had explained that we required access to the city’s systems to search the databases of their schools. So far, they’d been out of our reach. In turn, so was Alora.
“Pretty birdie,” Zion said softly, his arm on my backrest tensing as his fingers brushed my shoulder.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” Annoyed was an understatement as he answered my repeated question with a violent kiss any time I asked. “You haven’t explained yourself. If you won’t tell me, I’ll cut your tongue out in your sleep.”
In truth, my threat was empty. I’d grown to…tolerate his tongue.
He traced a line down my spine to where the chair’s backrest started. “You didn’t tonight, though.”
“That’s because I needed your body warmth to survive the night and didn’t want to hear you wail without your tongue,” I scoffed. So much for waking up before him.
“Whatever works for you. Only having you lying on top of me was so intoxicating I barely held myself from ripping your clothes off. I want to feel your skin on mine and count your pulse from how hard your heart would be beating. I want to share blood with you, to make you mine.” Madness rippled front and center in his blue eyes.
“You. Are. Crazy,” I muttered. Because what else were you supposed to say to that? I preferred my blood to remain inside me, not coat me from the outside.
Only his words had painted a picture so alluring I yearned for it to come to life. To become reality. To lower the temperature in the room because it was getting too hot for some reason, and my sweater was making it worse.
He rested a hand on his chest. “Thank you.”
Gedeon snorted. “Calling him insane is a compliment.”
He’d snorted. So his mouth was capable of other sounds besides warnings, orders, and growls.
Zion grinned. “I’ll tell you why I call you pretty birdie if you kiss me.”
Had I said he was unhinged? Because he was. He truly was.
I swallowed another mouthful of coffee. “I’ve kissed you more than enough.”
“No. I have kissed you, but you haven’t kissed me.” His tongue darted out and flicked the tip of my nose. “You can start like this.”
I viciously rubbed at the damp spot. It always made me feel lighter, the sensation so weird it bordered on being disturbing.
My shoulders slumped in surrender as I placed my cup back on the table. I wanted the answer. I needed it. Not knowing was exhausting. I loathed the unknown. And he’d assaulted my lips with his teeth plenty of times, so truly, how bad could it be?
I glanced at Gedeon, his elbow resting on the backrest, his legs spread wide. Nonchalance, my ass. He was the embodiment of the most satisfied version of themselves a person could possibly be.
He raised his chin up in a nod. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you for your permission.” Sarcasm saturated my words.
Grabbing Zion’s t-shirt, I yanked him closer, my mouth finding his. He froze, and I grinned against him. He clearly hadn’t expected me to go for it. I didn’t crave slow and gentle, and they should’ve realized it by now.
His hand dipped into my hair, holding me in place, as his tongue skimmed the seam of my lips. The moment they parted, he drew back.
He was giving me a chance to do whatever I wanted.
I launched, biting, licking, and nibbling his lips, devouring his mouth as if it was my last meal in this world.
Coffee mixed with the flavor of him swirled on my tongue as I sucked on his.
He tasted like both heaven and hell from the tales I’d read.
I could happily drown in that sea they’d taken me to if dying by water filling your lungs felt like this.
Running out of air, I pushed him away. “Was that satisfactory enough?”
Gedeon shifted in his seat, smirking—full of himself. An ordinary morning occurrence by now: breakfast, Gedeon’s smugness, and then Zion’s lunacy. Only today, the second and the third steps had switched places.
“You’re most delectable.” Zion licked a path up the shell of my ear.
Goosebumps broke out down my arms as I shuddered.
He truly was as mad as they got.