During the drive to Harry’s, I lecture myself repeatedly about my dirty thoughts. I’m acting like a teenage boy who just discovered how good his palm feels, not a grown angel who is perfectly capable of handling her body’s needs on her own.
Luca is off-limits. I work with him, and more importantly than that, I like him. A lot. I can’t screw that up for a quick fuck. His quiet intensity in my kitchen drifts back into my mind, and I’m forced to consider that while the two of us fucking might be a lot of things, quick probably isn’t one of them.
I punch the throttle harder and shift my focus to the road, where it should be.
Parking near Harry’s house, I tug my helmet off. Luca shifts behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see him leaning back as far as he can, his tanned face turned up toward the sun. His lips are curled into a contented smile, little lines crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that makes me want to trace my fingers over them.
“Are you sure you’re not a cat?” I ask, trying to return to our normal teasing so I’ll feel less off balance.
Luca cracks one eye open, showing me a horizontally slit pupil. “Reptiles like to sun, too.”
“Redheads don’t,” I say, climbing off my bike and removing my hips from the temptation of his hands while I’m at it. My body is way too comfortable pressed against his. Boundaries. That’s what I need. Some plain and simple rules to follow.
Luca ambles along by my side, his face lifted to the sun. Nowthat he’s had his coffee, his laid-back personality is in full effect. I usually aspire to his level of calmness. Right now, though, it’s getting on my nerves.
“You’re too chill,” I complain, flinching as my joke comes out sounding waspish.
“Only enjoying the weather,” Luca responds mildly, then sighs, tossing his arm over my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay, Celine.”
“How can you know that?” I stop a few feet short of Harry’s front door and face him. “Two kids, both angels, pop up right by me. I want it to be random, but I’m not that stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s random,” Luca admits.
“Then why aren’t you freaking out?”
“Because I’ve decided that whoever is doing this, and whatever their motives are, don’t matter. They don’t stand a chance against us.”
My heart stutters painfully in my chest, and I shuffle uncomfortably as the itching gets worse. “Luca, I don’t want you getting tangled up in this. If it involves someone from my past, it could be dangerous. You could be targeted.”
“I don’t care,” he says simply, putting both hands on my shoulders until his warmth seeps into my skin. It’s blazing hot outside, but I’m chilled by this conversation.
“You should care,” I tell him, tension building behind my temples. “You’re stepping directly into the crosshairs of an unknown mess. You should care about that very much.”
Luca’s relaxed expression fades. “I’m exactly where I want to be,” he says, his voice immovable. “Watching your back.”
I imagine shoving him with all my strength. I’m strong, but even in my head, he doesn’t budge. It terrifies me.
“You’re ridiculous,” I hiss, my wings clocking my turmoil and demanding to be set free. I refuse them. “You’ll get yourself killed, Luca. Heroes always do.”
He sighs, then wraps his arms around me tightly, whispering in my ear. “I never said anything about being a hero. That’s not my goal. But a friend? Someone you can count on? That’s who I want to be, risk or not. If someone comes for you, they’ll have to go through me, too.”
I shudder, sinking into his hug even though his words make my fear ten times worse. I’ve been attacked before. Plenty of times. I always come up swinging, and I always recover physically, but if Luca stands in the way and gets hurt because of me? Fuck, that’s my worst nightmare.
TWELVE
Enclave Edict #4:
If you need assistance, reach out to
enclave personnel.
CIPRIAN
My new plan is going great.
Grinning, I wash my hair under the lukewarm stream of water trickling out of the showerhead. This apartment may not be growing on me, but the supernatural community here on the Fringes isn’t half bad.
Alistair is the perfect example. Like half the people I’ve met at the Naked Fang, he’s panting after Celine. Relatable, honestly, but he’s far more interesting than the others. There’s an undercurrent of ruthlessness behind his bored stare. He talks without saying anything, and it makes you want to open up. The rush I got knowing I might reveal something critical to him while we talked last night was the most fun I’ve had in ages.
