Chapter 40
FORTY
Damned water kills, and danger
thrives in the shallows.
CIPRIAN
I wrap the nightmare around Luca, Malach, and Alistair, squeezing it tighter than a tourniquet until there’s no room for error.
It would be easier if they moved in sync, but that’s wishful thinking on my part.
Luca walks near the ground, barely lifting his feet at all. Alistair glides like smoke, drifting in patterns that seem aimless, but are anything but. And Malach marches. There’s no other word for it. He might as well turn and salute, because he’s never looked more like a soldier.
Since I’m the best, I accommodate them all. My nightmare stretches to account for their uneven progress, reflecting our surroundings back into the eyes and minds of anyone who might be watching.
This is our final patrol. Tomorrow, we either make it home or die trying. They’re almost certainly annoyed with me at the compound by now. I told Sheena I was going to the celestial realm with Celine for a quick trip, but it’s been weeks.
She’ll care if I die, but not knowing will be worse for her. I wince. I don’t want Sheena to spend the rest of her life with a Ciprian-shaped cloud hanging over her head.
Alistair veers sharply right, and I bite back a curse. He’s the poster boy for going rogue. I’ve never seen anyone less suited for teamwork. If we make it home, I’m signing him up for a community kickball league whether he likes it or not.
Shaking my head, I force my nightmare to stretch and cover him without breaking.
When he pokes a strangely shaped rock with the toe of his boot, I nearly groan.
The rock—which I think we can safely say isn’t a fucking rock at all—explodes. Alistair darts out of the way a split second before the thick, gray mushroom cloud reaches his face. As the tiny particles fall to the ground, the ice sizzles.
Alistair tosses me a sheepish look, then winks as I shake my head.
Besides the mushroom, there’s nothing here but us. I huff a relieved sigh. The valley is supposed to be empty. It’s what our research predicted, and it marks the fifth day in a row we’ve been right about timing.
Freedom is so close I can almost taste it. A bite of meat lovers’ pizza careening toward my mouth, carefully balanced to ensure no bacon bits even think about falling off and leaving grease stains on my pants.
Malach and Luca give the valley one more glance, then turn and nod.
Somewhere deep in the woods, Celine and Riven are visiting his super-special secret knothole to give Hyacinth, the teenage witch, our rendezvous instructions. It’s the only thing he’s insisted on: that we take the kid with us and help her create a new life for herself.
We’ll do it, but I’m not sure exactly what it will look like.
I know the witches in our territory. They’ll take one peek at the feathers and twigs in her hair and make her a pariah. Then again, I’m not a witch. I could be wrong. Life on Earth will at least give her more opportunities than she has here.
“Let’s go check the other side.” Luca nudges my shoulder.
I nod, chafing my hands against my upper arms. “I can’t wait to be warm again.”
“Keep quiet,” Malach whispers, his green eyes scanning the horizon warily. “We’re not safe yet.”
I grit my teeth. He’s right, but being in nonstop danger for weeks has done a number on my nervous system. When everything is scary all the time, it starts to feel like nothing is.
After we finish our sweep and find nothing out of place, we trudge back to the spot where we’re supposed to meet Celine, Riven, and Riven’s magic rock.
I hate how object-tethered transportation makes me feel as if my body is traveling through a crazy straw, but I like how it always spits me out in the warmth of the safe house.
We beat them to the meeting spot. I blow air into my numb hands and look at the others, raising my eyebrows. “I’ve got something I wanted to run by you,” I say.
Luca gives me a small smile and nods. Ali looks suspicious, and I’m not sure Malach is even listening. Spaced out, he’s staring blankly at the curved horizon, scratching his pelvis like he accidentally rolled in ants.
Ignoring him, I focus on the other two. “When we get to Vegas, I don’t think we should stay at Celine’s place.”
Luca’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “My apartment doesn’t have room for all of us, and Ali would have to clear out his office.”
Alistair tilts his head and studies my face. “Are you saying we shouldn’t return to her apartment or that we shouldn’t return to the Fringes at all?”
There’s suspicion in his tone, and I sigh. “It’s too lawless. Think about it: S’lach is escalating. He’s had us trapped here for weeks, but if we escape to Vegas, he’ll throw everything he’s got at us. We’ll either be dead or captured again in forty-eight hours.”
“What’s your alternative?” Ali’s blue eyes are hard, closer to steel than soft denim.
I lift my chin. “I think we should go to the compound—at least while we regroup. There’s plenty of room for us there. It’s a fortress, and S’lach won’t be able to get to Celine without going through a lot of other people first.”
“Have you mentioned this to her?” Malach asks.
I shake my head. “I wanted to talk to you first. Celine’s been there before. She knows she’d be safe, but she won’t go for it unless everyone else does too. There’s no way she leaves anyone unprotected after what she went through in the arena to keep us alive.”
Luca winces. “I’m not sure she’ll want to hide out at the enclave either, Ciprian.”
I run the toe of one boot through the ice and dirt. “I know that. That’s why I’m suggesting we go there temporarily. Long enough to put together a plan to take S’lach down without constantly glancing over our shoulders. Once Celine decides how she wants to handle things, we’ll leave.”
“I hate how much sense you’re making,” Luca groans.
Malach’s eyes cloud again as he surveys our surroundings. “I go where Celine goes.”
I nod grimly, then focus on Alistair. Red bleeds into the blue of his eyes.
Time stretches, and I shift my weight uncomfortably to keep my sluggish blood circulating.
I knew Ali would be the hardest sell. If his clients find out he’s staying at the compound, they’ll think he’s a rat.
He’ll lose credibility. But if they find out he’s sleeping with me . . .
My stomach twists. I’d rather not force this conversation. Everything is new, nothing we’ve gone through is normal, and the truth is: Alistair could always change his mind about me, but I can’t change who I am.
“I’ll leave it up to Celine,” he finally says.
I nod. It’s not an outright no. I need to lay off. It won’t do me any good to act desperate. It will, however, make any future rejection twice as humiliating.
A flicker of movement behind Ali draws my attention. I look that way, scramble for my magic, and relax as I see Celine and Riven approaching.
“What’s my favorite drink?” I ask Celine.
She smirks. “Whatever Luca decides to make you.”
I kiss her cheek, and the skin is warm and soft against my lips.
We squeeze together in an awkward wad, all angles and lumps, then the stone activates. I close my eyes and beg my stomach to behave as it sucks us up and spits us out in the living room.
“Any signs of a pattern change?” Riven asks.
Alistair shakes his head. “Everything was the same.”
“Tomorrow, then.” Riven dips his head, and the strange quivering lines run across his face before settling back to normal.
Tomorrow. We’re going home, or we’ll die trying.