CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #2
Cadi gasped in feigned offense and lightly poked her elbow into his side, grinning at his answering grunt.
Her fingers traced along the polished mahogany table as he led her toward the back of the apartment to a long hallway she hadn’t noticed before, its entrance perfectly concealed by the kitchen.
A knot cinched in her belly as they walked through the cool, gray light that filtered through the windows to mix with the soft glow from Elias’s bedroom.
A million thoughts fought for her attention with every step, each of them making her glad Elias wasn’t telepathic.
Cadi cleared her throat, hoping it would clear her mind as well.
It didn’t.
He ushered her through the door before crossing the room to flick on the light in the walk-in closet.
Cadi glanced around, doing her best not to let her eyes linger too long on the king-sized bed in front of her.
Its dark wood headboard hovered just shy of the glass that continued from the hall to form the two outer walls of the bedroom, with two nightstands framing it on either side.
Elias emerged from the closet holding a fresh t-shirt in one hand, a pair of sweats, socks, and a hoodie in the other. He placed the offering of dry clothes on a small bench at the foot of the bed.
“Bathroom is through there,” he said, indicating the door next to the closet. “Go ahead and hang your clothes up. I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
Placing a kiss on her forehead, he slipped back out into the hall and pulled the door shut behind him. If she hadn’t been so gods-damned cold, she might have been irritated at how he still insisted on being such a gentleman, but as it was, she just wanted to change.
Cadi peeled the frigid fabric from her skin, sighing at the instant relief from the cold. She gathered up the dripping pile and carried it into the bathroom to carefully drape her clothes over the half pane of glass that separated the shower from the rest of the space.
The soft fabric of Elias’s sweatpants felt like heaven as she tugged them on, though she had to shimmy to inch them up over her thighs.
She frowned at the way they clung to her, his lean frame and her curves not exactly aligned as far as pant size was concerned.
Luckily, his preference in hoodies leaned big, and that particular garment draped over her like a warm cocoon.
A soft sliver of light from beneath the closet door caught her attention as she stepped from the bathroom.
Figuring that Elias must have forgotten it in his mission to get her warm, she shuffled over and nudged the door open just far enough to reach her arm in and feel for the light switch.
Her fingers brushed against the smooth panel, and she was just about to turn the light off and leave when her eyes caught on a black metal box on the top shelf.
Pushing up onto her toes, she tried to get a better look, her curiosity winning out yet again.
The sides were slightly textured, with no discernible markings or labels to give her any clues as to what it contained.
Though, judging by the security pad embedded in the front, it was something important.
She pressed her lips together, her mind quickly coming up with infinite possibilities of what might be inside, each one more fantastical than the next. A stash of passports containing different aliases, boxes of mythic teeth, wads of cash obtained through clandestine means …
She blew out a laugh. It would be much easier, and substantially more productive, to just walk a few feet to the kitchen and ask Elias what the box held instead of standing there spinning stories about his secret identity as a mythic hitman.
Sure, she was currently zero for one when it came to getting answers to mysterious questions, but if nothing else, it would make for good practice.
“Hey, Elias,” she called, stepping from the hall just as a bolt of lightning forked across the sky. Cadi gasped, the mystery box completely forgotten in favor of pressing herself against the cold window to count quietly until the answering rumble of thunder rattled through her.
“I take it you aren’t afraid of storms?” Elias asked from the kitchen.
Cadi shook her head. “Not at all. I love them. When they aren’t quite this aggressive, I like to sit out on my balcony and just listen.”
She turned to look at him over her shoulder and found him watching her, his expression filled with the same wonder she felt watching the lightning split the sky.
He pushed off the counter where he had been leaning and stepped toward her with an intensity she had seen many times since that day in Sera’s apartment.
It felt like he was memorizing the moment. Memorizing her.
“What about you?” she asked. Elias smiled softly, nodding as he rested his arm on the window above his head next to her.
“I fully agree, especially big ones,” he said, the soft fascination in his features morphing into something distant as he pulled his eyes from her. “When the city shuts down like this I feel … free.”
It was her turn to commit him to memory.
The weight of his continued secrecy around everything that was going on with those sigils felt impossibly heavy when Cadi was alone, but right now, as he stood there at the window with his eyes fixed on the darkening sky, it barely felt like it mattered.
It was like he was revealing a deeper part of himself, something raw and delicate that he kept close.
She wanted nothing more than for him to know that with her, he could.
Reaching out her hand, she threaded her fingers with his, drawing him back to her. The shift in his eyes was nearly instantaneous, the heaviness she had just seen giving way to a gentle glint as he squeezed her hand.
“Did you want to ask me something?” he asked.
“Oh, right,” she said, a low whistle beginning to sound behind them. Elias strode back to the kitchen, lifted a black kettle from the stove, and carefully poured its contents into a mug. “What’s that black box in your closet?”
“That’s my lockbox,” he replied, then handed her the steaming beverage. She wrapped her hands around it, bunching her shoulders at the way the warm ceramic heated her chilled fingers.
“Your lockbox for …”
“My gun.”
Cadi’s eyebrows shot up, her stomach dipping slightly. Oddly, that hadn’t made it onto her list of possibilities, and while it definitely wasn’t the answer she had expected, it was still an answer, so she counted it as a win.
“You have a doorman and you practically live on the top floor; why do you need a gun?”
He shrugged. “Cal is great, but he can be a little too trusting sometimes. I like to know I have an extra layer of security if I ever need it.”
“Right,” she said, taking a careful sip. It had never occurred to her that someone who lived in one of the nicest neighborhoods in the city would feel the need for a firearm, but with the growing tension around the continent, he made a fair point. As long as she never had to be the one to use it.
She set down her mug with a soft clink. Despite its inane nature, Elias still tracked the movement, making her skin heat when his eyes caught on his sweatpants and their snug fit.
“You should keep those,” he murmured, stepping forward to slide his hands over her hips. “They look better on you than they ever did on me.”