Chapter 33 #2
Leaving the room quickly before I can do anything else to embarrass myself, I find Ciprian sitting on the couch. He’s scrolling on his phone as a mindless sitcom plays on the TV.
“You’re clearly busy.” I smirk around my fangs. “But are you up for a field trip?”
“Yes,” he responds without looking.
“It could be dangerous.”
“Even better; I need to charge.”
I tilt my head, considering him. Most supernaturals guard their magical secrets viciously. His comment, while vague, was oddly lax. There’s no way Ciprian grew up in a fringe community—I’m starting to think he’s just good at blending in.
Or he could be lying. I can rarely tell with him, and that unsettles me. We’ve basically abducted him, yet he hasn’t complained once. Why would he leave his own life behind so easily?
“After sundown,” I say, glancing at my watch and promising myself to pay closer attention to him tonight. If Celine has a hard time reading him and I feel the same, it’s time to figure out what makes Ciprian tick. The last thing we need is to discover we’re living with a bomb.
Ciprian drops into my passenger seat at dusk and slaps his thighs. “What’s our dangerous mission?” he asks. “Are we settling a score? Busting someone’s kneecaps for failure to remit payment?”
I laugh as I back away from the curb. “What exactly do you think I do for a living? I’m not a cheesy Mafia enforcer.”
“Disappointing,” Ciprian murmurs. “But you trade information, right? And you said it might be dangerous. I figured we were going to handle a client.”
I shake my head. “Sorry to disappoint. We’re helping Harry out.”
Ciprian thrums his fingers on his knee, tossing me a nervous look. “I thought your contact was going to come get the kids.”
“They weren’t able to make it out,” I tell him. “We’re going to drop them off instead.”
“Gods,” he groans. “You said dangerous, not miserable. What if they cry?”
“Then we’ll kill one to teach the others a lesson.”
Ciprian snaps his head toward me, then whistles. “Shit, you said that without flinching. I actually believed you for a minute.” He glances out the window. “How long is the drive?”
“About an hour. My contact lives near Valley of Fire.” I shoot him a narrow-eyed look. “Honestly, I’m starting to worry more about being cooped up with you than the kids. Tell me something . . .”
“What?”
“Do people often complain about you during road trips?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Ciprian smirks out the window, his mischievous expression captured perfectly in the reflection.
I pull up outside of Harry’s house as the moon rises above the shimmering Vegas skyline. Before I can even get out of the car, she comes out with three kids. The smallest child has her stubby arms wrapped tightly around her neck. Harry smiles at me, but her eyes are bright with unshed tears.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“She’s a good woman.” There’s no hint of a joke in Ciprian’s tone this time. “Let’s not make this any harder on her than it has to be.”
He opens his car door, climbs out, and waves his hands. Two of the kids giggle, and I watch, amazed as the toddler reaches for Ciprian, his blue eyes shining with laughter. I join them silently, not wanting to cause a distraction.
“Can I show you something cool?” Ciprian asks the kids, winking at Harry. The oldest child says something in the angelic language, and the two younger ones nod enthusiastically.
Ciprian’s black eyes go unfocused, then the toddler gasps, reaching for the air in front of his face as the youngest girl giggles with the careless abandon most kids in the Fringes are missing. The older one is more subdued, but the smile that lights her face is enough to make my throat lock up.
“Wow,” Harry whispers to me. “If I had his help to get them to agree to nap time, I would look five years younger.”
The kids walk calmly to the car, focused on something only they can see. Once they’re inside, Ciprian blinks and his eyes come back into focus.
High-pitched complaints follow, and he winces. “I don’t have a clue what they’re saying, but something tells me I’ve opened a box I won’t be able to close.” The skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkles slightly as he smiles, bracketing the dark circles under them.
“You’re their new favorite toy.” Harry pats him on the arm, then wipes at her eyes, ferociously brushing a tear away as Ciprian waves at her and walks back to the car.
“I’m sending Anika to make things easier,” she tells me. “She’s got the language mostly mastered. She’ll be able to help the other two adjust, although I hate to lose her.”
“We’ll make sure she’s safe,” I assure her, hating that we have to separate them at all. Anger burns in my gut. If we had the resources to outfit Harry properly, maybe Anika could stay. “I’ll text you as soon as they’re settled.”
I turn to walk away, and Harry smacks my butt hard enough to bruise. I look back at her in disbelief. “Chin up, Alistair,” she orders, handing me a small bag. “Those kids are tough. They’ll be fine.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I back away slowly, making a show out of rubbing my ass.
“Don’t call me ma’am.” She scowls. “It makes me sound older than I am.”
I put my free hand on my heart, bowing dramatically at the waist. “I’ll never do it again.”
“See that you don’t.” Harry lifts her head defiantly, no sign of her earlier tears. “Now get out of here. Those kids need a good night’s sleep, and they won’t get it if you keep talking nonsense with me while that nightmare shows them gods know what.”
Half listening, I nod and climb in the car. Ciprian shushes me as I slam the door, a wild terror in his eyes.
“What?” I demand.
“You’ll wake them up,” he whispers.
I turn to the back seat, shocked to find all three of them not only buckled in but sound asleep. I level Ciprian with a hard stare. “How did you manage that?”
He shrugs. “I’m good with kids.”
“Did you knock them out?”
Ciprian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Alistair, I smacked the shit out of three small, terrified kids to get them to shut up.” He holds his fists up and throws two fake punches at me. “It worked like a charm, but I’m ready for another round if they wake up.”
Shaking my head, I crank the engine and head toward the highway, glancing at my phone to put our destination in.
“You shouldn’t mess with your phone while driving kids around,” Ciprian says, slumping back against the seat.
His jittery energy from earlier is gone.
I consider teasing him about it, but sleeping children are the best-case scenario.
The smart thing to do is keep my mouth shut, drive, and hope they don’t wake until we get there.
“If I fall asleep, wake me up.” Ciprian yawns. “I don’t want to get a bad road-trip report card.”
I consider asking him why he’s so tired all of a sudden, but I hold off. My instincts tell me I’ll learn more about Ciprian by watching him than interrogating him.
Within five minutes, he’s asleep, a few strands of platinum hair falling over his closed eyes.
Reckless demon. He barely knows me. I could leave him high and dry in the Valley of Fire to get eaten by coyotes if I wanted to.
Smiling to myself, I wonder what Celine and Luca will think when they hear that Ciprian is a wonderful babysitter and a terrible bodyguard.