Chapter 49
forty-nine
Kit
Kit practiced patience as he helped clean and then dress a quiet, thoughtful Gentry.
He patted her hair down with a towel and spelled her favorite sleeping shirt clean before wrapping her like his favorite gift in it.
Then he laid her back on the bed and snuggled into her just the way she liked it.
His girl remained quiet, but he knew those gears were turning, spinning like always.
It took a long time but she relaxed eventually, her breaths coming in and out in such a way where he knew she’d fallen asleep.
Kit checked the clock by the bedstand. They still had plenty of time before he had to leave for the raid, but he wanted to make sure she had time to go through the Cobalt notes one last time.
He hadn’t been joking about her needing to research.
But for the moment he chose to stroke Gentry’s hair and look at her. She really was something. A perfect mix of sour and sweet, fiery and shy. He loved how much she always managed to surprise and delight him.
Her not professing her love to him hadn’t offended him in the slightest. After all, Kit had never given a gift with the expectation of receiving one back.
The truth of the matter was that he hadn’t earned her love yet, not like the way she’d earned his.
He’d failed to protect her father, and had nearly killed her, after all. He never wanted Gentry to stoop to loving someone like that. No, her love would have to come after this, if they both survived. He’d do everything in the world to earn it.
But, for now, Kit would take every little crumb she fed him.
The rest of the final day passed far too fast for Gentry’s liking. Kit had woken her up, cooked her dinner, and then proceeded to tell her about every safehouse he knew about in case things went sideways.
She’d stifled a smile at his optimism that she would be the one to get out of it if the raid went poorly. If the raid went poorly, it’d likely be because the soul excision had failed and she was dead. But she adored how he wanted to protect her.
Really, she just adored him.
That’s just the post-sex glow talking, she told herself, trying desperately not to stare at him as he talked, to memorize how the scar tugging on his lip somehow made him more beautiful.
“Are you even listening?” Kit pursed those lips and scowled at her.
She waved a hand. “Yeah, there’s another bunker about two miles outside the Jumper base. Samar will get me there. Loud and clear, hun.” She didn’t even try to not sound dismissive.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you be in charge today. You’re full of yourself.”
His chastisement startled a laugh out of her. “I didn’t hear you complain earlier,” she teased, liking this turn in conversation far more than the contingencies of a world where Kit no longer lived. That she would not tolerate.
Although… an unpleasant thought occurred as she glanced at that horrible bloody star on his neck.
“What would happen to you if I died? Would the Favor dissolve?” That note had felt so trivial over the last few days as it had collected dust in her bag, as she now knew that controlling Kit was the last thing she’d ever wish to do.
He’d always protect her, coerced or not.
Kit frowned, the expression pretty and uneven because of his scar, “I believe,” he dragged the word out, “that it would remain out in the world. Whoever tears the thing is who I’m indebted to.”
Something heavy settled in Gentry’s stomach and she immediately stood up.
“That won’t do,” she said as she took the damned piece of paper out of her bag.
“I’ll just tear it and ask you to do the dishes.
” She flexed her hands in an effort to do just that, but then her fingers wouldn’t move.
Shocked, she looked up to see Kit’s palm held out towards her.
“What?” she asked in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you want to keep that bloody thing on your neck. ”
“Not really,” Kit said, his eyes steady on hers, “but something is telling me that we’ll need it. I always listen to my gut. Keep it on you. I trust you to use it only if you need it.”
She could think of nothing less that she wanted to do, but his pleading tone of voice did something to her. So she nodded, sitting back down and pocketing the paper. Time was too precious to waste on arguing about a damn piece of paper.
It was already pretty late in the evening, and she knew Kit was leaving soon.
Then she’d be stuck with her Cobalt research until Adrienne and Wren arrived for her procedure.
Her stomach twisted. She wasn’t sure who was more unlucky — Kit, who’d be slaying Netherton witches-for-hire to save his siblings, or herself, who was about to have a chunk of her soul ripped out.
Regardless, it ends tonight. It had to. She’d been cursed for far too long, and had lost too much to live like this any longer.
Despite her earlier fears, ones she was sure would resurface, there was something nice about breaking her curse to save witchlings.
It almost felt like an apology to her father for her misguided prejudice.
Gentry cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you, you know.”
“For what?” Kit tilted his head at her.
“For showing me that not all witches are bad. There were countless opportunities the last few days for you to leave me for dead, but you didn’t. So… yeah, thank you,” Gentry ended awkwardly.
Kit shook his head in disbelief. “How you could crawl all over me earlier like a little demon and now act shy is beyond me. And, baby, you don’t have to thank me for doing the bare minimum. I tried to kill you.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t.”
They both started cracking up then, all the tension and shyness replaced with an incredulous joy that they’d somehow ended up where they were. That quickly came to a halt when Kit looked at his phone, all happiness gone. “It’s time to go, hun.”
Together, they stood up, and Gentry walked him to the door. She was the one who dragged him down for a kiss. It was a sweet, drawn-out plea for connection, and he gave back everything she hadn’t known she’d needed.
When she pulled away, she was panting, her face red. “Come back to me.” It was a far cry from what she wanted to say, but words had been failing her all day long.
He smiled at her, all polite gentleman again. “Of course, ma’am.”
Then he was gone.