With a sense of urgency I’ve never seen from him before, Ciprian shoots forward, unlocking his phone frantically, a deep line carved in his forehead. It gradually dissolves as he reads his messages.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, taking a step toward him instinctively. I’m unnerved by how much it bothers me to see him unsettled.
“Yeah.” He tosses me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “A friend of mine is struggling. For a moment there, I thought... You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine. Should I take the couch?”
He doesn’t look fine. I don’t point that out. Ciprian saved Alistair, and he’s hot, but I’m not about to poke into his business. Mainly because I don’t want him poking into mine.
“That’s fine,” I say, realizing with a start that as long as I’m playing the role of Alistair’s girlfriend, I should act more comfortable in his home. Pretending a confidence I don’t feel, I walk into the attached kitchen and open the refrigerator.
Reaching around the bags of blood on the middle shelf and a box of wilting spinach, I grab a pitcher of water from the back. If Alistair isn’t completely hopeless at organization, the glasses will be—there. My shoulders dip with relief as I find a randomassortment of cups shoved haphazardly inside the first cabinet I open.
I pour two glasses of water, take a sip, then walk back into the living room. “Here.” I press the second glass into Ciprian’s hand.
He thanks me without looking up from his phone. I know he said his friend was struggling, but the girlfriend theory feels more likely, despite Alistair’s gut instinct about Ciprian’s loyalty. Most people are incredibly good at justifying bad behavior. We have no reason to believe this demon is any different.
Alistair shuffles back into the room, a blanket in one hand and a question in his eyes as he glances between me and Luca. I subtly shake my head.
“Luca, you can take the spare room,” he says out loud. “I use it mainly as an office, but there’s a daybed.”
“Good with me.” Luca wanders down the hall like he’s been here a million times, and I feel a pinch of guilt for sending him away.
“I’m going to order some pizzas,” Alistair says, raising his voice so Luca will be able to hear him.
“Sounds good,” Luca calls out, his voice muffled by the sound of running water.
“Any topping requests?”
“You know what I like,” I say, my lips quirking up because he actually has no idea. This will be a fun test to find out what my fake boyfriend-slash-friend-with-benefits thinks I like.
“Meat,” Luca shouts.
“Same. I need to replace all the iron I let you borrow,” Ciprian jokes, but his tone is too bland for it to land correctly. Whatever is on his phone is bothering him, and he’s not trying to hide that from us.How strange.
“I left clothes on the bed for you, angel.” Alistair kisses my cheek then dials a number on his phone.
I nod and head down the hall, grabbing the T-shirt and boxersoff the bed. After a quick glance toward the living room to make sure no one is watching, I duck into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
Luca is shirtless, washing his face in the sink. Water trickles down his sharp cheekbones, leaving his dark eyelashes spiky. Silently, I explore the muscles of his back, my fingernails tracing a path between his shoulder blades.
I hear his sharp intake of breath before he spins and lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist, and our lips meet in a chaotic crash. “Sorry about the spare room,” I whisper.
“Don’t be,” he mutters. “It was the safe play. Kiss me, baby.”
The pet name sounds as good today as it did last night, but the surge of fear after the initial spike of pleasure ruins the effect. Luca is too important. My father will take him from me. If he knows I have something good going, there’s no chance he’ll rest until I lose it.
I cling to Luca as the panic sinks its teeth in. If he can sense it, he doesn’t say anything, holding me tight as his lips move against mine.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, pulling back and pressing his forehead against mine. “Trust me. Please.”
“I do, but?—”
“No buts,” Luca insists. “As long as we trust each other, we’ve got this.”
I want to believe him. Badly. But the reality is my father is dangerous. Alistair knows that firsthand. Sending those angels to kill me is Dad’s way of testing the waters. He’s starting small and hoping to get lucky. I still can’t figure out how he found me, though.
“If only Ciprian had left one alive to question,” I say.
“The whole street was a mess. I bet he didn’t have time to consider that.”
