Craning my neck, I study the dark circles under his eyes. They’re angry-basilisk bad. “It won’t let you sleep?” I ask, relieved he didn’t bail on watching the fight tonight. I’m not scared to be alone with Alistair, but his intensity can be overwhelming.
Luca sighs, then climbs onto the bike behind me and drops his chin to my shoulder. “Basilisks are stubborn bastards.”
“Sounds like someone I know.” I hand him my spare helmet, waiting until he puts it on to say, “Alistair knows, by the way.”
Luca grips my hips in shock. I crank the bike, rev the engine, and take off before he can respond. I meant to continue the teasing tone of our conversation, but I’ve misjudged things—because the longer we drive, the more his body trembles. By the time I find parking near the Mouth of Hell, I’m cursing myself for dropping it on him without an explanation.
Once I plant the kickstand, I rip my helmet off and cut the engine. “Everything is fine,” I assure him. “I didn’t tell him you were involved.”
Luca swings off the bike and tosses me hishelmet. “That doesn’t make it better, Celine. Actually, that’s worse.” He takes off toward the crowded entrance, leaving me to stuff the helmets into the top case and scurry after him.
“Hey!” I curse when my raised voice draws some curious looks. “Godsdammit, Luca. Slow down.”
I plow into his back when he stops abruptly. Spinning to face me, he grabs my shoulders. “What were you thinking?” Luca demands.
“Chill out,” I whisper angrily, shoving his hands off. “I didn’t volunteer the information. Alistair figured it out after Ciprian’s little interrogation.”
“Fuck.” Luca groans.
“Exactly, and panicking won’t make it better,” I say, sagging as I realize how unfair I’m being. Luca is struggling, and I made things worse. “I’m sorry I dropped it on you. That was a shitty thing to do.”
Luca closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, then grabs my hand and pulls me toward the warehouse. “I’ll get over it,” he mutters, walking through the open door. “But I won’t sit on that splintery tower of garbage.”
I huff, then hide my smile. The stacks aren’t my favorite place to perch during a fight anymore, but telling him how much I enjoyed the view from Alistair’s shoulders is a terrible idea.
“Was he good to you last night?” Luca’s question shocks me, and I snap my head up. There’s a dark shadow in his hazel eyes, but we were discreet—there’s no way he knows what happened in the storage room.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie automatically, then wince from the sharp sting that shoots up my spine.
Luca narrows his eyes. “What the fuck was that?”
“I can’t lie,” I groan, knowing it’s way past time to come clean about this.
“What?” His jaw drops.
“I mean, I can, but it hurts like hell,” I explain, then glance around to make sure no one is listening in. As usual, the Mouth of Hell is packed. Everyone is way more interested in getting a good spot than eavesdropping on us, though.
Luca shoves a drunk guy away from him then looks at me, his eyes wide. “The runes,” he says. “While you were talking to Anika and Imani... They showed up when you were making promises.”
“Built in proof of sincerity,” I confirm his theory, then shrug, not surprised he made that connection quickly. “I’d rather not talk more about it here.”
“Of course,” he says. “I shouldn’t have asked you something that personal, anyway.”
I roll my shoulders, trying to make the uncomfortable tingle go away. It’s been a while since I tried to lie, and my magic wasn’t a fan.
“Can you scratch my back?” I ask him. “The itching is awful.”
Luca steps around me, his fingers searching out the spot where my wings usually are. He scratches my back with the perfect amount of pressure, and his warmth seeps through my tank top, luring me into an almost-relaxed state.
All around us, people are drinking, talking, and jostling past, but it feels as if we’re the only ones here. “I hate that you lied to me, Celine,” Luca whispers, his voice low.
“I didn’t like it either,” I mutter, sagging into his touch. “Maybe you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
I turn to face him, and he winces. “That good, huh? Wait, don’t answer that. Gods, I’m doing my own damage now.”
I laugh, playfully shoving his chest. “You like Alistair,” I remind him. “Which is good, because I forgot to mention it when I invited you, but he’s meeting us here.”
“You invited me on your date?” Instead of being mad, Luca’s lips curl into a devious smirk.
