Chapter 8
EIGHT
Identify your weaknesses, then kill them.
CELINE
The summer rolls in mercilessly. Beams of sunlight penetrate every inch of the city.
No air conditioning unit or magical cooling charm in existence can keep up with the dry heat that hovers over the pavement.
It gyrates in hazy, horizontal ribbons, the texture visible in a way it shouldn’t be without eating a special mushroom or two first.
Today, Imani and I are rehearsing in the empty club. We’ve been keeping this weekly routine going for years, and that’s comforting to me, extreme temperatures or not.
Climbing to the top of the pole, I let myself roll down slowly as I test out different holds.
Heat makes a lot of people sluggish. Not me.
I feel alive, like I could outrun sweat itself if I tried.
My dance routines have gotten faster and more aggressive.
My tips reflect the extra effort, which is a good thing, because I’m giving as much money as I can to Harry.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. I don’t even need magic to know I’m lying.
Anika popping up on the trail changed things for me.
My itch hasn’t stopped, and I can’t pinpoint the cause to save my life.
Ciprian is gone, so it seems Luca was worried about nothing there.
His departure being as sudden as his arrival doesn’t surprise me.
He’s exactly like all the visitors who slink in and out of our lives here at the club.
The Naked Fang is a vacation from reality, and by extension, we are too.
“I need a break,” Imani gasps, her face twisting as she bends over. Her breathing is labored, and I frown as I drop to the floor and study her more closely.
“This is more than the heat,” I guess, hoping I’m wrong. When she doesn’t correct me, my belly churns. “Imani, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
“I-I can’t fucking do it,” she admits, anguish coating her voice.
“Then we’ll do it,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Together.”
“I can’t let you risk it.” Imani lifts her head, her wide eyes tormented. “We could drown.”
“Hey, listen to me.” I infuse magic into my words. “I will not let that happen. I swear it.”
Imani stares at me, scanning the runes covering my skin before clenching her jaw. “If you don’t mind—”
“Bitch, don’t insult me,” I snap, and her lips curl up into a reluctant smile. They’re chapped at the corners, and I kick myself for not noticing sooner. Imani has been pushing herself to rehearse with me and suffering the entire time.
Hurrying to the storage room, I yank the big tub away from the wall. It’s here for the wet and wild events we put on from time to time, but we haven’t used it in a while. With one hand, I drag it out of the room and down the hall, stopping behind the bar.
Under the counter, there’s a thick, coiled hose, the nozzle resting in a bracket above the sink. I yank it out harshly, the mechanical whine abrasive in my ears as I force it to uncurl, then turn the water on to fill the tub.
Imani eyes it with dread, hands shaking at her sides. “You know, I’m feeling better—”
“It’s too late for that,” I say. It sounds harsh, but I’m mad at myself. I should have seen how badly she was struggling sooner.
“Your wings are smoking,” Imani whispers. When I see she’s right, I hiss and close my eyes. “If you’re pissed, we can always do this later.”
“I’m pissed at myself.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except be a completely oblivious, selfish bitch.”
Imani snorts. “Give me a little more credit, Celine. I’m covert, you know? Mysterious and all that.”
My glare tells her exactly what I think of that bullshit. “We promised each other,” I murmur.
Her face falls. “I remember.”
“Do you?” I demand, swallowing around the lump in my throat.
“Because the best-friend-approved list of acceptable ways to self-destruct includes banging hot losers, overspending during sales, and drinking until you forget. You know what’s explicitly forbidden?
Letting yourself desiccate because of baggage you never asked to carry. ”
“Celine,” she says, her voice gentle.
“No,” I shout, dropping the end of the hose in the tub and standing upright. “We don’t let them win, right? You swore that to me! You fucking promised.” My wings erupt in flames, and I scream at the ceiling, trying to expel my rage before I set off the smoke detector again.
“C-Celine.” The fear in Imani’s voice grounds me. My flames extinguish with a series of cascading sizzle sounds. Without my anger, crushing sadness is all that remains.
Imani didn’t ask to be afraid of water—she needs it to live. That was done to her, against her will, over and over again, poisoning her against the very thing that should bring her the most joy.
The drips fall before I can even attempt to regulate my emotions.
“Your wings are crying, babe.” Imani sniffles, her voice stuffy.
“I know.” I groan, shaking them out as they sag from the weight of the water. Droplets fly everywhere, and Imani takes a step back. I pretend I don’t notice. “I’ll have to mop this shit up later or Luca will murder me,” I say.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffs. “Is it close?”
“It’s getting there.” The big aluminum tub is about halfway full of tepid water. I look up at Imani and smile. “You should come over here and let me know when you think it’s ready.”
It’s a transparent attempt to desensitize her. I’m not an idiot. I know how full the tub needs to be, but I’m not going to shove her in and hold her there until she gets the soak her siren needs. That’s a choice Imani has to make on her own.
She approaches the tub like she’s marching to her execution. It might seem ridiculous to some, but knowing what she’s been through, I find it far more surprising that Imani manages to face the water at all.
“You’re strong,” I remind her.
“No, I’m not.” Imani hangs her head. “If I was strong, I wouldn’t fear a few inches of water in a glorified bucket.
If I was strong, I wouldn’t need my best friend to get in the fucking bathtub with me.
If I was strong, I would have fought and won, not run away to another realm and moved to the least wet place I could find.
” By the time she finishes, her shoulders are heaving, silent sobs racking her body.
I go to her side, grabbing her fisted hands in mine. “Stop it, Imani,” I insist. “Don’t talk about yourself that way or I’ll have to yell at you.”
“You are yelling at me,” she says, smiling through her tears.
“Fuck!” I force my voice to soften. “Is this better?”
“Eh. You’re still yelling; just at a lower volume.”
“Then try to ignore my tone,” I say, letting my magic back out to ensure she knows what I say next is the absolute truth.
“When I look at you, I don’t see someone who ran away.
I see someone who forged her own path and created a new life for herself in a place she’d never been before.
It took courage to start over here, and it takes courage to soak in this stupid tub, but you will do it, because you’re the strongest person I know. ”
Imani wipes a tear from my cheek, her amber eyes glistening with tears of her own. “Okay, okay. I believe you, Celine.” She closes her eyes. When she opens them again, they’re fierce with determination. “Let’s get in this stupid tub, then.”
I nod, reaching over to cut the water off, and step in.
Imani follows my lead, flinching when her bare feet and calves disappear beneath the surface.
Slowly, I sit, easing myself down so the water rises gradually up her legs instead of all at once.
It laps at her knees. They shake. I wait.
Imani takes a deep breath, then sinks down to join me, letting the air out of her lungs in one great big puff.
I grab her hands again, locking our fingers together.
“You won’t let anything bad happen?” Imani asks. Her voice is shaky, but the water is doing its job. Color is already returning to her cheeks.
“Never,” I promise. “I figured room temperature water was best.”
She nods, the movement jerky but not panicked.
“You’re doing amazing,” I assure her. “Deep breaths. In and out.”
Imani’s lips twitch. “If you keep talking me through it, I’m going to get the wrong idea,” she teases.
I roll my eyes, then drop until only my head is poking out of the water. Imani matches my position, her eyes wide. “Good girl,” I joke. “I knew you could take it all.”
“I’m scared to ask what the hell I walked in on.” Luca’s voice startles us both. “But please don’t stop on my account.”
“Just cooling off,” I say, giving Imani’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “Our rehearsal got sweaty.”
“Mmhmm,” Luca says, not sounding like he believes my flimsy excuse one bit. “Gods! Why is the entire floor soaked?”
“I’ll clean it up,” I snap. “Go away. You’re ruining the vibe.”
“Actually, listening to the two of y’all bitch is a great distraction,” Imani says. I roll my eyes, encouraged by how much stronger her voice sounds.
Head poking over the top of the bar, Luca studies us both, fully clothed in the tub, his eyes stopping on Imani’s tear-stained cheeks. “You okay?” he asks her, his voice a low growl that makes a shiver roll down my spine.
“I’m fine.” Imani sighs, then shudders. “Or I will be soon. I’m going under, Celine.”
“Fuck yeah, you are.” I sit up, wrapping my hands around hers again. “I swear on my life that you will come up again. Squeeze my hands twice when you’re ready.”
She nods, the whites of her eyes flashing as she scans the room. “What if you can’t get me out?” It’s a completely illogical question, but logic has nothing to do with it.
“Then Luca will flip the whole tub over,” I tell her.
Imani looks over at him, and he nods grimly. “Whatever you need.”
“Okay,” she whispers, dropping backward until she’s completely submerged. As soon as the tip of her nose goes under, her skin glows amber. I drop our joined hands beneath the water as hers relax in mine.
“It’s gotten worse,” Luca says, his voice tense. “I didn’t notice.”
“Neither did I.”
“It’s not your fault.”