Chapter 16
Cece
Ifumble with the keys, my heart pounding as I unlock the door. My hands shake just enough to make it obvious. Luc stands a breath behind me. I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. That look alone sends a shiver through me.
The door swings open, and I step inside, reaching instinctively for the light switch. But before I can flip it, the lights flicker once, then snap off entirely. My breath catches. I turn, confused for a split second, until I feel the air shift around me.
Luc’s already moving.
There’s a pulse of energy, something warm and electric, and then he’s there, pressing me carefully but firmly against the wall, his mouth on mine before I can ask a single question.
His lips are fire. His hands cradle the back of my neck, drawing me closer, deeper into him. The kiss is urgent, like it’s been too long since the last. My fingers twist into his shirt without thinking, needing something to anchor me in this perfect chaos.
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his own glowing faintly in the dimness. Those piercing sapphire irises that always see too much.
I can’t breathe. My chest rises and falls too fast. Everything in me is coursing with need.
He leans in again, about to kiss me, and then my phone rings.
Loud. Shrill. Invasive.
A beam of cold white light pulses from my jacket pocket in the darkness.
“Fuck,” I mutter, louder than I mean to.
Luc huffs a low breath, part laughter, part frustration, and pulls back. “It’s okay,” he says, his voice husky, still close enough that I feel the heat of him.
He gently steps away, the lights flickering on around us in the same quiet way they vanished. His doing. Again.
I scramble for my phone.
Kate.
“Hey, Kate,” I answer, trying not to sound as breathless as I feel.
“Cece! Thank God. Are you busy?”
“Well, I’m . . .” But I’m cut off.
“I’m coming up the stairs right now. I’m literally outside your door. I need to talk. You’re home, right?”
No.
“Uh, yep. I’m here. Just . . . give me one sec,” I say, ending the call.
I look at Luc. He’s halfway across the room now, watching me carefully.
“Luc . . . that was Kate. She cannot know you’re here.”
There’s a faint flicker at the corner of his mouth.
“Can you beam somewhere for a bit? Like, just for a few minutes?”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s not how it works. I need a tether. Another destination. If I leave now, I lose hours of time. It’s night, and it’s risky if you’re unguarded that long.”
Crap.
“Okay, then, could you just hide in the bedroom? Please? I can’t explain you. Not yet.”
Something shifts on his face. “I understand,” he says quietly. “I’ll stay out of sight.”
He turns and disappears into the hallway. The bedroom door clicks shut just as there’s a knock at the front door.
Dammit.
I open it to find Kate standing there, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of food in the other.
“Surprise! I brought tapas and alcohol. You’d better have an opener.”
She breezes in, already toeing off her shoes.
“Of course,” I say, trying to smile through the nerves still clawing at me.
She sets everything down on the counter, then spins back around and pulls me into a tight hug. “I needed girl talk. Bad.”
I hug her back, trying to still my racing heart. “Of course. What’s going on?”
Kate digs for a wine opener. Then she pauses and turns, her eyes searching mine.
“Actually, first . . . how are you doing?”
I nod, keeping my tone even. “I’m good. Things are quiet now.”
She raises an eyebrow. “So . . . no more surprise visits from Lucien?”
Oh God.
I feel my throat tighten. I know he heard that.
I force a casual laugh. “Nope. None.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but lets it go.
Then she gives me the rundown on Ethan wanting to be exclusive and her hesitation about taking the leap. After several sips of wine and a lot of talking, she seems more comfortable with the idea.
“So . . . what are you going to tell Ethan?”
She studies me for a second, then lets it go, the corners of her mouth tugging upward into a grin. “I’m going to tell him he’s a lucky bastard.” She laughs, the wine clearly settling in. “And I’m going to say yes.”
I smile, genuinely happy for her. I take a sip of my wine and reach for an empanada just as Kate perks up suddenly.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you,” she blurts out, eyes wide. “I ran into someone who knows you.”
That freezes me mid-bite. I slowly lower the food.
“Oh yeah?” I say, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah, it was totally random. I was grabbing a coffee with Olivia from our accounting team, and this guy bumped into me. Super polite. I don’t remember if he gave me a name.”
My stomach tightens. I jump in too fast. “What did he say to you?”
Kate lifts her glass again, thinking. “He just apologized and then said, ‘Wait, I know you. You’re friends with Cece, right?’”
She glances at me over the rim of her glass, completely unaware of the alarm bells blaring inside my head.
I nod slowly, pretending to listen even as my pulse races.
“And then he said he knows you from . . . Pomerium?” she says casually, like she just mentioned a street name.
I freeze. The blood drains from my face.
She doesn’t realize what she’s just said.
I clear my throat, trying to swallow the tight knot of panic rising in my chest. “What time was that exactly?”
Kate looks up at the ceiling, thinking. “Around eight in the morning, I think?” She drops her gaze back to me. “Yeah, definitely around then.”
I nod, but my heart is hammering so loud I can barely hear her.
“So . . . it was daylight,” I say, more to myself than to her. The words come out flat, almost mechanical.
Kate lets out a light laugh, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Uh, yeah. Eight in the morning is what we people call daytime.” She smirks. “Unless you’re in, like, northern Alaska during that weird endless-night thing.”
But after the joke lands, she picks up on my energy.
She studies me more closely, her smile faltering. “Hey, you okay, doll? You’re acting kind of . . . off.”
“Sure, yeah. I’m okay,” I fumble, forcing my voice lighter. “Just trying to piece together who it could’ve been. You know, using my super-sleuth skills.”
I tack on a laugh, but it comes out strained, the joke landing flat. I reach for some food casually, like my pulse isn’t thundering in my ears.
“What did you say he looked like again? Maybe someone from the project team?”
Kate squints, thinking. “Tall. Dark hair. Light eyes, I think? Mid-to-late forties, maybe. Hard to tell. It all happened fast. Honestly, it’s kind of hazy now that I’m replaying it.”
I can feel her gaze on me, subtle but focused, like she’s trying to read what I’m not saying.
“But he called you Cece,” she adds, her words slow and thoughtful, as if fitting the pieces together. “So I figured it wasn’t work-related. Daniel’s the only one I know of there who calls you that.”
I meet her eyes and offer a quick smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Maybe an old grad school friend or something.”
I drop my eyes and reach for my wineglass again. My fingers wrap around the stem a little too tightly.
Kate doesn’t push, but I can feel her watching me carefully. She knows me too well. If I slip even once, she’ll catch it.
So I keep the smile. I take a sip. I pretend everything is fine.
“Okay,” she says, her eyes narrowing on me. “I wasn’t going to mention anything, not until I had more information. But this whole vibe you’ve got going on makes me feel like I should.”
Her tone stays measured as she continues. “I’ve been asking around at work, seeing if anyone heard about anything unusual the night of your . . . event.”
I perch on the edge of the couch, fingers digging into the armrest, waiting. Bracing myself.
“For a while, there was nothing. Zilch,” she continues. “Then something. A maintenance worker came to the Times with a wild story. He claimed there was some kind of ghostly incident. That a couple vanished into thin air right before a train made contact.”
My eyes widen.
So someone did see.
“One of my friends brushed it off as nonsense, and honestly, I probably would’ve too,” she says. “But I got the guy’s contact information and tried reaching out. No response. No reply. And he hasn’t shown up for work since that night.”
Her eyes search mine. “Odd, isn’t it?”
“Definitely,” I say, my mouth going dry as my heart starts to race.
“Something feels off, so I’m going to look into it and see what comes up. And don’t worry, I’ll be smart about it.” She softens. “I’m not telling you this to freak you out. I just want you to be safe.”
I nod, and she tilts her head, quietly accepting that.
She changes the subject, and we keep talking.
Work stuff. Something we watched. A bit of gossip that doesn’t really matter.
It all blends together. The usual things.
The same rhythms we always fall into. The words come easily, almost automatically, filling the space before the quiet has a chance to settle in.
Nearly an hour passes before she announces she has left Ethan waiting long enough. She pulls me into a hug before heading for the door, but just as she steps into the hallway, she pauses, her hand lingering on the doorframe.
“Cece,” she says softly, turning back to me. “I know you’re not telling me everything, and that’s okay. But I’m here. Whenever you’re ready.”
Her eyes hold mine for a second longer before she offers a gentle smile, then slips out the door, closing it behind her. The door clicks shut, and for a long moment, I just stand there, arms wrapped around myself, my stomach twisted in knots.
I don’t need to call him.
Luc is already there.
He steps into the room like a shadow slipping through cracks in the air, silent and composed, but I can feel the difference in him. Tension rolls off him in waves.
“That was . . . unexpected,” he says, his voice low.