Tobias #2
“Actually…” I waited for Quinn to swallow, wanting her to be the one to share the good news. “It was.”
Quinn gave me a close-lipped smile before taking a sip of water. “It’s too early to say we have a cure. There’s still testing to be done to determine if it’s safe to try it on Eva…”
Yael leaned forward. “But?”
“We have a strong contender. Which means we’re almost there.”
Quinn speared a piece of melon with her fork, biting into it with a happy sigh. Her tongue darted out, catching some of the juice that dribbled down her lower lip. I bit back a groan.
Pari chuckled under her breath, smirking at me, and I forced my gaze away.
“Any luck today?” I asked her in a blatant attempt to distract both her and myself.
Pari shook her head as she added some chips to her plate. “Unfortunately, no. If there is a glamoured secret passage the leads up to the Enclave, we couldn’t locate it.” She looked as frustrated as I felt. “We’ll keep guard to be sure the mirror doesn’t reopen without us knowing.”
“We did manage to round up some of Silvius’s network though,” Yael added as she spooned herself a second serving. “It seems he couldn’t get the word out quickly that the tunnel entry was compromised. We took a page out of his book and had a few water elementals lay in wait.”
Quinn shuddered, and I barely suppressed my own. The memory of her drowning was far too fresh, the way the water had tried to tear her from my arms…
The room seemed to blur around me as I relived the moment that I almost lost her. My desperation and panic rose inside my chest like it might implode, the spiral of my thoughts dragging me under as surely as that dark water…
I had almost lost her.
I had almost lost her.
And it would’ve been all my fault.
I needed to shove these feelings down before someone saw them and used them against me. I needed to cage them off before that panic caged me. I needed—
Quinn took my hand, her voice low as she asked, “Are you alright?”
I couldn’t find the breath to speak. The scar around my neck tightened until I thought I might choke. I needed to get out of here before they all saw me break down.
Blue flared from Quinn’s hand where our fingers entwined like she might somehow be able to heal me.
“Hey,” she said urgently. “Big breath in.”
Though, based on the way I could suddenly draw in a full breath…maybe she could.
The table had gone silent, our joint exhale far too loud. Quinn either didn’t notice, or more likely, didn’t care. She waited for me to breathe in before joining in with me.
Letting my guard down felt a lot like surrender. And yet, with each breath, the need to push my terror down ebbed, no longer something to cage but something I might finally be able to bear.
My hand shook slightly as I squeezed Quinn’s in a silent thank you. Unable to look her in the eyes a moment longer, I reached for my water, emptying the glass in three large gulps.
Pari pointedly cleared her throat like she could distract the rest of them from my panic attack…or at least its aftermath. A futile endeavor with everyone’s eyes still locked on me, but one I couldn’t help but appreciate as Yael and Rivan looked her way.
I refilled my glass as Pari asked, “Are they still questioning them?”
Rivan grimaced. “The Mayimites are trying to get more from them, but I don’t think they were trusted with anything more than they already told us. No one could tell us Silvius’s whereabouts, or where the mirror leads, at least not yet.”
Silvius was still out there, growing more desperate and dangerous the more we hunted him. He was likely behind the order to drown us both—and he was sure to escalate his attacks if he learned a cure was in reach.
“Quinn’s too close to finding a cure for him not to strike again,” I said grimly. “Especially if his moles get wind of it.”
Though only one of the males I killed in Silvius’s lab wore healer’s robes, I doubted he was the only healer loyal to him, or, more accurately, their dead king.
“Queen Sariyah remains adamant the Enclave is safe from Silvius and his people, despite our evidence to the contrary.” Pari closed her eyes as she rubbed her temples.
She had no doubt been more diplomatic than I would have been.
“If we try to station our own people to guard you two as you work, we risk causing a diplomatic incident. If we ask her to have her people do so…”
“…then we’ll end up with guards we can’t trust,” Rivan finished. “Which is likely worse than none at all.”
Whether it risked inciting something or not, my sword was coming with me tomorrow.
I already kept my dagger hidden on me, as did Quinn, despite the Enclave’s rules otherwise.
Even if one of Silvius’s supporters caught us off guard in the warded laboratory, there were few who would be able to best my Celestial magic in a fight…
or survive Quinn’s ability to stop their hearts with a mere thought.
I knew she would use whatever she had to in order to protect us. She made that infinitely clear last night. I also knew how much she would hate herself for doing so.
The thought that Quinn could possibly be corrupted was ludicrous.
I had always known exactly who she was—even when we were kids, she had been the kindest of us, born with empathy, a quiet understanding, and an unfailing desire to help.
She had been the one to bring the wounded bird home we found on the walk home from school and nurse it back to health.
And she had been the one to stand up to high school bullies not by beating them up, though she could, but by befriending them—somehow speaking to their loneliness rather than stoking their anger.
The fact that she feared the possibility at all was enough to make me certain her humanity would remain firmly intact…
never mind the semantics that she wasn’t human and never had been.
Her soul was unassailable, not because she was free of darker impulses, but because her heart refused to yield to it.
She was far too steadfast, too empathetic, too good to let the evil she imagined take root.
She was the best person I had ever known. And nothing, not even so-called dark magic, would change that.
“We can handle it,” I promised. “You all need to focus on finding him. I’ll keep Quinn safe while she finds a cure.”
I didn’t know when her safety became my top priority, or if it always had been, but somewhere along the way it stopped feeling like a choice.
Quinn reached for a roll, the movement awkward as her hand crossed her body.
Only then did I realize her closer hand was still clasped in mine.
I made to pull away, but she stopped me with a look.
There was a hint of embarrassment in her voice as she muttered, “I may need your help standing once I finish this.”
My voice dropped to a near growl. “I’ll happily carry you to bed, Sagray.”
There was that blush again. She finished off the roll, popping the last bite of it in her mouth, then pushed up from the table.
I hastily got to my feet. “I can help clear—”
Pari shook her head, waving us both off. “Go get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” I said as Yael and Rivan said their goodnights.
Quinn took a step, then stumbled. Without letting myself think too hard about it, I scooped her into my arms. She didn’t object as I walked through the threshold to her room and set her gently on the bed. Then I dropped to my knees beside it.
Her sandals had leather ties that laced around her ankles. The knots took me a few seconds to undo before I pulled her shoes off one by one and set them on the ground beside me.
When I looked up, Quinn’s mouth had fallen wide open.
Hastily, I got to my feet. “Sorry, I thought you might need some—”
She quickly exclaimed, “I appreciate it—”
“—help considering—”
“—I was just taken by surprise.”
The silence stretched between us. I brushed my hand through my hair, the dark tendrils immediately falling back in my eyes.
Those amber eyes softened though her blush remained. A few curly locks had escaped her ponytail, perfectly framing her face. Her blouse had fallen down her shoulder, the slight puff of her sleeve cupping her upper arm, her chest strained against the neckline as her breasts begged to be freed.
For one bold heartbeat, I pictured myself taking her face in my hands and giving in to everything I wanted.
I wanted to hear her moans. I wanted to hear her beg me for more. I wanted to get back on my knees, throw those toned thighs over my shoulders and feel her come apart on my tongue.
Quinn sounded breathless as she asked, “Was there something you still needed?”
You, I almost said. I always need you.
Something still held me back, a certainty of my failings that no longer felt absolute. I may never be worthy of her…but denying her? That was a different kind of battle, and one I already knew I would lose.
Maybe I was starting to trust her when she told me I mattered in all this—that I mattered, period—and was somehow essential to finding this cure. Maybe her confidence, and the way she depended on me, had started to change how I measured my self-worth. And when she called me extraordinary?
Maybe I finally wanted to believe it too.
I backed up so quickly my shoulder smacked against the doorframe. Holding in my wince, I awkwardly stepped to the side and pivoted, blindly grasping for the doorknob as I propelled my body through.
“Goodnight,” I said, my voice strained as I shut the door behind me.