Chapter 20
TWENTY
There’s nothing wrong with spying.
LUCA
Their conversation is painful. I’m torn between covering my ears or knocking some sense into Riven, but I keep my ass firmly planted on the bed. I shouldn’t be listening. What am I supposed to do, though? Hide under the bed?
We can all hear them, and no one makes any attempts to change that.
I can feel Celine, anyway. Her insecurity when it comes to Riven, and the fizzy buzz of anticipation. It crackles along the bond, making the ribbon of light jittery.
I have to accept him.
Celine wants him. And as stupid as he’s acting right now, he won’t hold out for long. Who would? And why? She’s beautiful, smart, brave, and loyal—he’d be a fool to resist her.
The bathroom door opens, and we all pretend to stare at the TV. Except, fuck, Alistair muted it fifteen minutes ago and tossed the remote on the bedside table.
I shoot him a look, but it’s too late. We have no choice but to own our nosiness or fake hearing loss.
Celine rounds the corner, glancing at the TV and rolling her eyes as she uses a full-sized towel to dry her hair. She’s completely naked.
My lips twitch. Yep. Riven doesn’t stand a chance.
Also, what the fuck is wrong with that guy? Who lets a woman like her walk away?
Not ussss. My basilisk is smug, and I climb to my feet, pleased to find there’s absolutely nothing wrong with our reasoning skills. “Baby, have I told you recently how flawless you are?”
Celine shakes her head, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m not flawless, Luca.”
I scoff. “Come closer. I’ll do a thorough inspection.”
Ciprian fake gags. “Your lines are worse than 80s porn.”
“You were quick with that one.” I raise one eyebrow. “Are we about to learn that the enclave’s golden boy has a vintage porn addiction?”
“If I did, I would have no problem admitting it,” Ciprian says. “Big hair. Bigger—”
“Okay, we get it.” Celine laughs, bending to dig around in Alistair’s bag. She pulls out one of his T-shirts, and his eyes flash red as she shimmies into it.
“Are you going to investigate the other gateway locations?” Ali asks.
Celine nods and sits down on the end of his bed, fishing a brush out of her bag. “I’ve got to. I can’t logically explain it, but I won’t give up on him. I-I can’t. It feels . . .” She sighs. “It feels wrong. Not like I’m betraying him, but like I’m betraying myself.”
Alistair darts to the end of the bed, scoops Celine up, and sits back down, propping himself against the headboard with her tucked between his legs.
Celine rolls with his sudden, possessive move, calmly working the brush through the ends of her wet hair without missing a stroke. “I’m out of my depth, guys.” Her voice is steady, but none of us miss her gaze flitting toward the bathroom.
“He’ll come around,” Ciprian says.
She frowns. “I don’t want him to come around, though. That’s not—”
The water turns off, and we all go quiet. I understand what she didn’t get to finish saying, though . . . no one wants to convince someone else to be with them.
“Malach will be shocked when you show up to save him,” Ciprian says, smoothly changing the subject. “I can’t stop imagining the shock on his face when you kick down the door and toss him over your shoulder.”
Celine’s lips twitch. “I’m not going to drag him into a cave; we’re going to have a conversation.” The half smile on her face drops. “Honestly, I’m terrified. If my father’s hurting him . . .” She shudders.
I want to reassure her. Gods, I’m desperate to erase her worries one by one.
But I won’t spout bullshit I don’t believe, and the truth is: I’m worried, too.
If Celine is right about Malach, and I think she is, then he’s under S’lach’s control, and nothing good can come of that.
He’s tough, though. I keep reminding myself that if anyone can hold on, it’s him.
“The southern enclave has received recent reports of a celestial gateway sighting,” Alistair says. “We booked you a flight to Georgia. It leaves tomorrow.”
Celine lets the hairbrush drop to her lap. “How did you hear about that?”
“Joshua made some calls,” Ciprian says.
“Are there angels living in Georgia?”
I shake my head. “None that Joshua’s friend knew of. He wants to check the gateway out, but since no one there is an angel . . .”
“It won’t activate for them, anyway,” Celine murmurs. “This could be a wild goose chase.”
I bite my lip, hating how discouraged she is. Determined to cheer her up, I snag the remote from the bedside table where Alistair abandoned it and queue up the latest season of our favorite island dating show.
“We’ve got a lot to catch up on,” I tell her.
“They added exes this time, but they aren’t allowed to tell anyone who they used to date.
If a castmate figures it out, they push a giant red button on the wall and call them out in front of everyone.
If unmasked, the exes must leave immediately, but if their accuser guesses wrong, they get the boot instead. ”
Celine smirks. “That’s terrible.”
“I know. We should binge it, though, right?”
“Fuck yes.” Celine tosses the hairbrush to me, and I put it carefully on the table before crawling into bed next to her and Ali. Ciprian joins us, wedging himself between Celine’s legs. The three of them are stacked like a Russian nesting doll.
We’re halfway through the first episode when Riven appears, dressed in the same clothes he was wearing when they got here. He grabs the bag of clean clothes and retreats to the bathroom again to change.
I shake my head. I don’t particularly want to see him in a towel, but getting dressed in dirty clothes only to come out and get a bag is a level of modesty I’ve never seen from a supernatural before.
When he returns, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, I watch him from the corner of my eye and piece together what I know.
He’s afraid to get close to Celine.
He’s self-conscious about his body.
And the way he crawls into the queen-sized bed by himself is painfully sad.
I focus back on the show, wishing it wasn’t easy to empathize with him. I’m not the only shifter who knows what it’s like to be at war with themself.
“Be careful, angel,” Alistair says for the tenth time. “We don’t know what the supernaturals are like down there.” He says “down there” as if he’s peeking into an active volcano, not talking about a quick trip to Georgia.
I roll my eyes. “It can’t be worse than the monster realm,” I remind him.
I spent a lot of my childhood in the Texas Fringes, but I’ve never been to the Southeast. Rumor has it, there’s a massive population of supernaturals there. Hopefully, that makes it easier for Celine and Riven to blend in.
“We’ll be fine. I promise,” Celine says, speaking in a southern drawl so bad it makes me cringe. She somehow switched from moonshine around a Mississippi bonfire to the Australian outback and back again in the span of five words.
“Nix the accent, baby.” I pull her into my arms. “You suck at it.”
The airport parking lot is nearly deserted, but my basilisk scans for danger anyway, as if he expects monsters to come out of the men’s room at any second. Yeah, maybe Ali isn’t the only one on edge.
Celine kisses me, and I have to force myself to let her go.
This clinginess is intense, new, and I’m not the only one infected by it. Ciprian’s fingers are twitching. He wants to reach for Celine and is only barely stopping himself. And Alistair . . . Shit, I guess Ali is the same as he’s always been—an obsessive motherfucker. He just has company now.
“You’ll check in when you land?” I shoot for casual and miss by a mile, landing somewhere between needy and desperate. Fuck me, where’s that active volcano when you need it? My cheeks heat, and I glance at my feet.
Celine presses her forehead to mine. “I won’t take off again, Luca. I swear. You’ll hear from me multiple times a day, and if the gateway is operational, we’ll make plans before I go through. You won’t have to wonder what’s happening to me.”
I nod. At least Celine isn’t disgusted by this new, clingy version of me. Yet.
She tilts her head. “I’ll miss you, Luca. All the time I’ll miss you.”
I groan and tighten my grip. She’s wearing the blue and black flannel shirt I had on yesterday. She swiped it from my bag this morning and put it on over a tight black tank top. I haven’t been able to look away since.
Car doors slam, and a handful of travelers head toward the airport entrance, the wheels of their suitcases grinding against the pavement.
“The bond,” I whisper, kissing her cheek.
“It wants us together,” she says. “I want that, too. I’ll be back soon.” Her choice to use ‘I’ and not ‘we’ is glaring. Standing behind her with his arms crossed, Riven gives no reaction to being excluded.
I lock eyes with him. “Watch her back.”
He nods, not bothering to respond verbally, but honestly, I’d be more suspicious if he decided to lay it on thick.
Celine says goodbye to Ali and Ciprian and heads for the automatic doors, her backpack slung over one shoulder. Riven trails along behind her as if an invisible rope is pulling him after her. I shake my head. A former assassin turned reluctant bodyguard is better than nothing.
“I hate it.” Alistair’s fingers clench around the handle of the SUV, and the metal groans.
“Easy on the rental,” Ciprian says. “If we get charged extra, Joshua will yell at me.”
Alistair peels his fingers off the handle, nods, and sighs. “I’m good.”
“No, you’re not.” I clap him on the back. “Neither am I, but this will be over soon.”
“We’ll focus on the research,” Ciprian says. “Then, after she gets Malach back, we’ll beat his ass for this sacrificial bullshit.”
Alistair manages to open the car door without ripping it off, and we load up in silence. I told Ali this would be over soon. I hope I’m right, because I can’t take much more.