Chapter 26
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
She hated that fucking helmet.
Cecilia stood in the doorway of their bedroom, a bowl of cereal in hand.
It was just about all she’d eaten since she woke up from her drugged stupor because it was basically all he had in his kitchen.
Going grocery shopping was on the list of things she intended to do that day, no matter what he said about dangerous vampires.
There were lots of things on that list, actually. Right near the top was seeing him without that damn helmet on again.
She spooned a mouthful of Fruity Crunchums past her lips and tried to chew as quietly as possible. It was the first time she’d seen her phantom sleep and she didn’t want to wake him.
He lay sprawled across their mattress on his stomach, his powerful limbs spread. He’d worn an undershirt and briefs to bed, which she found a little strange after what they’d done, but she’d only slept with the guy twice, so what did she know?
Some tender place in her chest ached when she looked at him tangled in their sheets.
She’d only known him for a harrowing few days but she’d also known him for a year. He’d been her kidnapper but he’d also been her devoted servant. He’d been the most terrifying being on the planet but he’d also been… Sloane.
She didn’t know what to do with all that. A storm of feeling churned inside her, never quite settling.
All she knew for certain was that he was hers.
Her spoon dipped back into the bowl. A part of her kept waiting for the calm that had come to her during their date to disappear, revealing her true feelings of uncertainty and flickering attraction. It didn’t. Sloane just made sense to her in a way she couldn’t explain.
She barely knew anything about him and he only knew what he’d observed of her, but it didn’t seem to matter. Their messed up puzzle pieces locked together seamlessly.
I could help him, she thought, already putting together a mental file of things and experiences she could introduce him to.
Obviously, the man had been hideously mistreated and deprived of basic comforts in life.
The thought of taking him to a carnival for the first time or watching him learn to find joy in little things everyone else took for granted filled her with a giddy sort of excitement.
He didn’t know how to function in the world the same way she did. If anyone was suited to the task of showing him the softer side of life, it was her.
She loved to teach and Sloane appeared more than eager to learn.
But it wasn’t all about helping him. That wasn’t the basis for a healthy relationship, and neither was his near-worship of her very existence. Beneath those things there had to be a connection that ran to the core of themselves — a foundational sort of belonging she couldn’t put a name to.
If she said yes, if she told him to take off his helmet and keep it off as she so desperately wanted to, there was no backing out.
There would be no safe math teacher or corporate middleman who’d coach baseball on the weekends for her.
She’d be locked in with Sloane — and every terrible, nightmarish bit of baggage he came with — for life.
Cecilia was far from stupid, and she liked to think she’d outgrown a lot of her impulsive decision-making that had gotten her in trouble during her youth.
She was aware that if she signed up to be Sloane’s mate, it wouldn’t be an easy life.
The man smashed people’s faces into brick walls and ripped off limbs without a thought.
He was an elvish killing machine who appeared to act almost entirely without supervision.
He wouldn’t be an easy partner. He wouldn’t even be a run of the mill bad boy. He was a walking, talking disaster.
It didn’t scare her like it should’ve. The calm didn’t evaporate. The knowledge that she was dangerously close to rushing headlong into the most important decision of her life didn’t worry her.
It was simply… a tactical consideration, as she imagined Sloane would say.
Cecilia finished her cereal. Padding back into the kitchen, she quietly washed her bowl and spoon before she wandered toward the bedroom again. A ridiculous grin spread across her face when she passed the wall of windows, which now sported several tell-tale smudges.
Her muscles were definitely sore, but she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him again.
When she walked back into the dark, windowless bedroom, she found that he hadn’t moved. The shiny dome of his helmet, which had to be uncomfortable to sleep in, gleamed with the soft glow of the twinkle lights strung up on the door.
The ones he got for me, she remembered, horrifically smitten.
She crawled back into bed as delicately as she could.
He seemed like a light sleeper, but he must’ve been completely tuckered out from their activities the previous day because he barely stirred when she cuddled close to him again.
In fact, he didn’t wake up at all until she got bold enough to lift up his arm so she could tuck herself under it.
He jerked a little, the muscles spasming under her grip. A strained sort of grunt left him.
“Oh,” she gasped, rearing backward with alarm. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? I wasn’t trying to wake you up.”
Sloane rolled his shoulder a little before he snaked his arm around her middle to yank her into his side. “S’fine,” he muttered. “Just sore.”
Eyebrows raising, she asked, “Are you sore from yesterday?”
He threw one muscled thigh over her hip, effectively trapping her under his bulk. Instead of answering her question, he asked in that soft, sleepy voice, “What time is it?”
“You slept in,” she smugly replied. “I really tired you out. Who needs a workout when you’ve got doin’ it on a cliff, huh?”
Sloane’s arm tightened around her middle. “I don’t sleep in.”
“You did today, Mr. I-Sleep-In-Two-Hour-Shifts.”
Helmet lifting off the pillow, she imagined he gave her a baffled look. “What time is it?” he asked again.
“Four PM,” she answered. “You should probably go eat somethi—”
Cecilia yelped when Sloane rocketed into an upright position. She sat up on her elbows to watch him throw his legs over the side of the bed. Even through his undershirt, she could make out every defined muscle of his back bunched with tension when he reached for his folded pants.
“Sloane?” Concerned by the urgency in his movements, she laid a hand on his spine. “Baby? What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” he rasped, sounding more distressed than she’d heard before. “I’ve lost a whole day.”
Really sitting up now, she crawled to his side of the bed to peer at his helmeted profile. “Lost a whole day to do what? I didn’t realize we had a schedule.”
Sloane’s breathing seemed faster than normal. Placing his palms flat on his knees, he didn’t say anything.
In the short time she’d been able to see his face, Cecilia had gotten used to just how expressive his eyes were. Not being able to see them now when he was clearly upset about something made her hate the damn thing even more.
“Hey,” she murmured, covering his right hand with both of hers. “You can talk to me, champ. Whatever it is, we can work it out. If you’re upset about yesterday, that’s okay. It’s overwhelming to lose your virginity.”
Sloane’s head whipped toward her. “I’m not upset about yesterday. It was the best day of my life.”
A warm rush ran through her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. One thing she loved about Sloane? The man didn’t know how to play coy. He just said the earnest thing a normal person would’ve rather died than admit.
Giving his hand a squeeze, she asked, “Then what’s wrong?”
He let out what sounded like a trembling breath. That, above anything else, alarmed her. “Sloane?”
“We need to leave,” he quietly informed her. “Now.”
Cecilia stared at his inscrutable profile with confusion. “Like… go out?”
“No. We can’t stay in the Battery. We need to pack everything and leave.”
“And go where?” she pressed, too baffled to really process the flat seriousness of his tone. “Back to my apartment? Because I know you probably don’t mind the blood and guts, but I don’t think I can sleep there again.”
Sloane turned to her. Shoulders tense, he grated, “No. We have to leave the Elvish Protectorate.”
Her lips parted. “Wha… What are you talking about? Why?”
In an instant, her heart leapt into her throat. Her hands tightened on his, clinging hard enough to hurt someone with thinner skin than her elf. Whispering like they might be overheard, she asked, “Is it because you killed Duke?”
His hand flexed in hers. The tension rippled up his forearm until it ran like a wave through his biceps and shoulders. “No. It’s because I…”
She waited for him to continue. Her heart beat a little faster with every second that ticked by.
The gods knew it wasn’t the first time a boyfriend had asked her to run away with him when the heat turned up, but she’d never actually considered it before.
And she’d certainly never dated anyone who she knew for a fact killed people. It was always just sorta… implied.
But Sloane had. He’d killed three men right in front of her.
Normal people, even Patrol officers, shouldn’t have been able to just get away with murder. It made sense that something might’ve gone wrong, that he’d been caught somehow. Maybe the bodies turned up somewhere or any number of terrifying prospects that end with Sloane being punished.
Cecilia’s whole body tensed. The thought of him being put away for murder is scarier to me than the thought of him murdering. I really am sunk.
In a quieter voice, he told her, “My leave is up, Cece.”
She blinked. That didn’t sound so bad. “Okay… Then you should go to work. That’s not a big deal. I need to start looking for a part time job anyway while I wait for my teaching application to go through. If you’re worried about me being safe, I can just stay here while you’re on duty. No biggie.”
Sloane made a heartbreaking sound in the back of his throat. Reaching over with his free hand, he cupped her cheek. “You’d really stay?”
Her throat tightened to an almost painful degree. Fighting to get the words out, she whispered, “Yeah, I would.”
“Fuck.” Sloane dropped his hand. Hunching his shoulders, he braced his elbows on his knees and lowered his head. “My leave is ending and I can’t go back on duty, Cece. If I do… If I do, they’ll separate us.”
“What?” She made a face. “Why? I thought elves were allowed to have relationships with other people now.”
“We are, but we — my team and me — aren’t. It’s strictly forbidden.” His claws flexed between his spread knees. “That’s another reason I didn’t approach you. I knew that if I got too close, they’d take you away from me.”
Her mind whirled. “Wait, your team— I didn’t know you had a team.”
Sloane made that strange, sad sound again. “There are seven of us. Eight if you count the former sovereign. All of us were conscripted into service when we were children. Protocol doesn’t allow us to keep consorts.”
There was too much to digest there. She could barely wrap her head around the idea of running away with him, let alone the fact that there were seven other people — including Delilah Solbourne, apparently — who’d been put through the horrors he had.
“But… why?” she asked, clinging to what seemed like the simplest and most absurd part of the story.
“We’re too dangerous,” he answered in a flat voice.
She sat with that for a moment, letting the truth settle into her. Fresh memories of blood splashing across her apartment’s floor rushed to the forefront of her mind.
She couldn’t downplay that. She couldn’t pretend like Sloane wasn’t incredibly dangerous. The higher-ups who made the call to keep him and his teammates from their partners no doubt knew exactly what they were doing.
But that didn’t mean she thought it was right.
Taking a deep breath, Cecilia reached for his hand again. Holding it tightly, she didn’t look at him when she asked, “Are you close with your team?”
His fingers squeezed hers. “Yes.”
“And you’d give them up to run away with me?”
Sloane bent at the waist to lean his broad shoulder into hers, giving her just a little of his weight. “Would you give up being a teacher in the city for me?”
Her heart stopped.
All she’d ever wanted was to be a teacher.
She loved kids. She loved watching their brilliant little minds work and change every day.
And it’d been a dream to work in such an incredible city with a famously choosy education system.
She wanted to be the best of the best so she could give her best, and she’d worked damn hard for the opportunity.
But when the heat of Sloane’s hand radiated through hers, it seemed… less. Not less important. Not less possible. Just less urgent.
Less once in a lifetime.
This thing, the man holding her hand, who was willing to put himself through just about anything to make her happy and give her the chance to choose him, was a true once in a lifetime possibility.
Cecilia sucked in a deep breath.
“I don’t believe either of us has to give what we love up,” she argued, turning her head to look at him. “There has to be a way to fix this. We can petition the sovereign, or we can go all the way to the United Court if we have to.”
Sloane stiffened. “Cece…”
Before he could continue, she gave his hand a sharp squeeze. “But right now I’m going to trust that you know what you’re doing. If you say we can’t stay here, then we can’t stay here.” Bringing his hand up for a gentle kiss, she announced, “So let’s go on vacation, baby.”