Chapter 38
thirty-eight
Gentry
Kit returned sober and quiet while Gentry was failing epically at her attempts to meditate. She’d placed the tonic on the table as a reminder that she’d soon have to take the nasty stuff, and it mocked her accordingly.
Have a good time breaking the heart of the witch you’ve enslaved? it seemed to whisper. Take me so you can have your nightmare next!
Gentry had been doggedly ignoring the imaginary insults, determined to stay awake so she could apologize again. So when Kit arrived, she jumped to her feet. “You’re back,” she said, unsure on what to say, “I’m glad.”
Luckily, Kit didn’t seem to care in the least about her awkwardness. He eyed the soft bundle of blankets she’d been using as a temporary mat. “So does meditating have something to do with the necromancer?” he asked.
She nodded, glad that they weren’t talking about the emotional elephant in the room yet. “Yes, it’s so I can… get in touch with the Drayer part stitched to my soul.”
Kit flinched. “Shit, that sucks.”
“Yeah”—she pointed at the bottle—“and that’s so I can figure out his worst fears and his memories while I dream. It’s all to help Wren make a cut in the right place.”
“The smaller one? She looks a bit nutty.”
‘She is, but…” Gentry let her words trail off from the obvious she’s my only chance of getting out of this alive.
It sounded too desperate. “It’s driving me a bit crazy, just meditating, sleeping, and hoping that a friend of Clea’s will save me.
I hate it,” she confessed in a gush, painfully aware of how whiny her words had to sound to the guy who’d just lost the love of his life.
Rather than look disgusted at her like he was supposed to, Kit sat down on a chair and leaned forward, his lean, dangerous body somehow making even that movement sexy. “Do you want something to keep you busy?” he asked, his eyes intent on hers.
Gentry felt a bit dizzy at the question. Busy? Surely he doesn’t mean…
Kit chuckled as he read her panicked expression, “Not that kind of distraction. A different one. The one I’ve been going away trying to solve.” He ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “The kids. The ones we dropped off with Nona a couple days ago. They’re missing.”
Shock had Gentry scrambling to her feet. “What? When did they..?”
“We were the last ones to see them,” the assassin confirmed quietly, “and we haven’t been able to find a single damn clue pointing to where they went. Nona, my siblings and I are all worried sick.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Gentry bombarded Kit with questions as she switched her laptop to life. She went to work, fingers flying, only distantly aware of Kit getting ready for bed.
It was only when he tapped her on the shoulder that she looked up from the screen.
“Thank you,” he told her with a sad smile, “for everything. Telling me about Visha. Looking for the kids. You’re a good woman, Gentry. Don’t forget to take your medicine tonight. Night.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Kit then walked off to make himself a pallet on the floor so that the bed would be free like the gentleman he was.
Stunned, Gentry remained unmoving at her keyboard as she looked blankly at the satellite images of Skadra she’d brought up. She’d never expected gratitude from the witch she’d screwed over again and again. Her cheekbone burned from where he’d kissed her.
He’s just nice, she reminded herself as she started typing again, that kiss doesn’t mean anything.
But what did it say about her that she wished that it had?