Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Sleep where you know the exits or don’t sleep at all.
ALISTAIR
They’re back. Ear pressed to the door, I eavesdrop without shame, ready to kill Ciprian if he steps even one toe out of line. After he gives her a cryptic pep talk, I’m surprised—then thrilled—to hear Celine claim Luca.
Through it all, Luca’s poker face doesn’t budge. He sits stiffly in the chair by the window, the lamp casting harsh shadows in the hollows beneath his cheekbones.
I jump back as the door swings open, trying to appear casual as Celine walks in and tosses her leather jacket on the bed. She stares at it, her wings twitching.
“It’s dark in here,” she mutters, glancing at me and cocking one eyebrow. “I know you’re deathly allergic to the sun, but I didn’t realize an overhead light could take you out.”
I cross the room in a flash, reaching around her to flip the light switch. “I was trying to convince Luca to nap before work. Neither of you got enough sleep last night.”
“Nothing a little caffeine can’t fix.” She smiles at me. It doesn’t reach her eyes.
Enough of this chitchat. It’s a waste of time.
“You bolted this morning,” I remind her. “We were worried.”
She looks between us calmly. “I never asked you to worry.”
“That’s bullshit,” Luca hisses, shoving to his feet. “We don’t need permission to care about your well-being. Are you telling me you wouldn’t give a damn if something happened to Imani? Because I know you would. Get it through your head, Celine—someone caring about you isn’t a threat!”
“Yes, it is!” she screams. “That’s exactly what it is. And the more you care about me, the bigger that threat becomes.”
They can use the word care all they want, but we all know what they really mean.
I hold my hand up before Luca respond. We won’t get anywhere if they let their anger do the talking. “And why is that, angel?” I soften my voice until it’s barely more than a whisper.
“Because people who care for me pay for it,” she says.
Her voice is devoid of emotion, but her wings give her away. Sharp as knives, the feathers begin to condensate—beads of water rolling down the edges before dripping onto the carpet.
For an instant, I’m transfixed by the sight. I’ve never seen her wings convey more than one emotion at a time, but they’re clearly showing stress and pain right now . . . even as Celine does her best to hide both.
Chest heaving, with his hair sticking out in all directions, Luca grunts and scoops Celine up. He carries her to the bathroom and sets her on the bathmat, throwing the shower curtain aside to let her wings drip directly into the tub.
“You’ll be upset if the carpet gets wet,” he says matter-of-factly.
“And you’ll die because of me.” Celine grips Luca’s shoulders, staring at him with bloodshot eyes. “I’m not who you think I am—I’m who he made me to be. The perfect angel you’re imagining? She’s not me.”
“That logic is warped.” Luca tucks her hair behind her ears. “You’re the only fucking angel I know, and I’m pretty fucking positive I’ve never once thought you were perfect.”
I prop my hip against the sink and smirk at them both. “You’re captivating, angel, which is far more interesting than perfection.”
“What can we do to make this morning not happen again?” Luca takes a step back. “All I can think about is that you’d rather die than hear me say I love you again.”
“Luca,” Celine sighs, fisting his shirt in her hands and yanking him back to her chest. “It’s not like that, I needed to think and sort through the chaos. Everything is out of control.”
He slumps, obviously disappointed but doing his best to hide it. “I can avoid adding to the things that throw you off balance.”
Celine nods, then frowns. Perhaps having gotten what she wanted from him, she’s now realizing she doesn’t want it after all.
“I told Ciprian about us,” she says. “You can move into the bedroom if you want to.”
It’s an olive branch. Luca is proud, and I worry he won’t take it, but he proves me wrong when he dips his head and kisses her.
“Thank the gods,” he groans. “I’m not sure my spine could take another night on the air mattress. I was thinking about trying to sleep standing up.”
Celine smiles, and her wings stop dripping. “I want you both to know I’m trying,” she whispers. “It might not be a quick fix. I’m struggling with the . . . messiness, but I want you two here where I can protect you.”
I hide my smile by scrubbing my hand over my stubble.
This is Celine doing exactly what I feared she couldn’t: bending.
That’s worth celebrating. A dark shadow shifts through my mind, blotting out the joy of the reconciliation.
If she tried to send me away . . . my reaction would be uncontrollable.
This obsession I have with her, with them, it’s not good for me, but it’s too late to change course.
“Thank you, angel.” I step into them and press a kiss to her neck.
“We’ll do our best not to make it overly difficult.
” And I’ll control my urges. Forever, if that’s what it takes.
She must never be allowed to see the raging monster inside me, the one who sees only prey, weakness, and victory.
I’ll keep that side of myself away from her at all costs.
“Speak for yourself,” Luca teases. “Now that we’re all here, we need to talk about the feather.”
Celine shakes her wings, flinging water into the tub. “What feather?” she asks.
Luca reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rumpled feather. At first glance, it seems to be the same as Celine’s, but when I look closer, the colors are different.
“Ciprian found it at Harry’s,” Luca says, pressing the feather into Celine’s hand. “Is it familiar?”
She turns the feather over, holding it up to the light and rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Many angel feathers look like this . . .”
“But it’s familiar?”
Celine shakes her head. “It’s not enough to go on. Even for speculation.” She holds it next to her drenched wings. “There are a lot of angels with wings this color,” she says again, softer this time.
“It was worth a shot.” Luca throws one arm over her shoulder. “They aren’t nearly as pretty as yours anyway.”
Celine laughs. “White wings are the most common.”
“And do most of the common white wings in the celestial realm catch fire or transform into blades?” I ask.
“No,” Celine purrs, dragging her fingertips up my cheek, then fluttering her wings so flirtatiously that her intent is obvious. “Mine are one of a kind in that way.”
Luca snaps his fingers, breaking the moment. “I bet they’re part of your magic,” he says. “You can spot lies—but your wings? They’re your truth, and you have to wear it on your back.”
“Amazing,” Celine says drily. “I think you’ve landed on something there.”
“Hey!” Luca laughs. “It’s not like you voluntarily offer up the details. You drop breadcrumbs—stingily—then expect me to keep up.”
“Stingily? Really?”
“Shut up, I’m sleep deprived,” Luca says. “Take a nap with me, baby.”
“Only because you asked nicely.”
Celine grabs Luca’s hand and leads him to the bedroom. She carefully places the feather in the drawer of her bedside table, then glances at her leather jacket. It’s dangling off the end of the bed where she tossed it when she came in.
Her brown eyes narrow, then she growls. “Fuck me, I can’t do it.” Grabbing the jacket, she stomps into the closet, and I hear hangers rattling. When she comes back out, her face is more annoyed than it was when she went in.
“It’s okay to want an orderly space, angel,” I say.
“I know that.” Celine shrugs. “Some demon told me to embrace the chaos, though, and I’m exploring what that’s like for me.”
“It’s not terrible advice, but I think you’ll be able to embrace uncontrollable chaos more if you keep your home the way you like it.” Luca takes his shirt off, folds it neatly, then puts it on the bedside table.
He crawls into the bed, his eyes drifting closed as soon as his head hits the pillow. With his chest bare and the blanket slung low over his hips . . . I want to follow him under those covers. Smirking, I tug the comforter down to expose his lower abs. Celine grins at me and fans her neck.
Luca cracks one eye open. “Stop eye fucking me. Both of you. I’m too tired.”
“Have a good nap,” I say, backing away from the bed reluctantly. “I have to touch base with some of my contacts, then check on Harry. I’ll see you both at the club tonight.”
Celine frowns at me. “Take the demon with you.”
“You mean, your best friend, Ciprian?”
“He surprises me.” Celine looks thoughtful as she snuggles into Luca’s side. “Constantly.”
“And that’s a good thing?” I pause with my hand on the door.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Think about it while you sleep,” I suggest.
Celine perks up. “Do you know a way to make dreams productive?”
“Why do you sound excited about that?” Luca groans. “Go to sleep. Dream like a normal person.”
“What do normal people even dream about?” I ask, shaking my head, curious to hear what a mythical shifter such as Luca could think is normal.
“You know, sex, getting eaten by a shark . . . shit like that.” He yawns, his mouth stretching wide.
“So wet dreams and nightmares? Got it.” Celine stretches and her left wing smacks Luca in the face.
He sputters, his eyes snapping open as he removes feathers from his mouth. “Those things should come with a warning label.”
I chuckle, strangely reluctant to leave them. But I’m not someone who naps, and I’m falling behind with my business. I need to make calls, work through my latest encryption system, and vet the additional supernatural foster homes I’ve uncovered.
Despite all of that, I’m almost tempted to throw off decades of precedent and crawl back into bed with Celine and Luca.
“Be safe, Ali.” Luca’s voice is raspy, and when I look, I find his hazel eyes locked on me.
“Of course.” I smile. Then—unable to resist—I go back to the bed and pull the covers over Celine, kissing her surprised mouth. “Have a good nap.”