With Celine’s hand clasped loosely in mine, I coax my brain to turn off, reminding it that we’re in my sunproof apartment, a space protected by as much magic as money can buy. It doesn’t work. I try logic next, then threats.
I’m unable to sleep until my plan to convince Celine to allow me to protect her is complete. It can’t wait. My best chance is now—while her eyes soften when she thinks of my injury, and the cracks in her armor are shaped like me.
I feel no guilt for leveraging her emotions to get my way. Life on the Fringes has taught me the value of utilizing my resources, no matter how insignificant, and I never forget a lesson learned.
“Has anyone ever studied the cognitive effects of blood loss on vampires?” Celine tilts her head; her cheek creased from my pillow.
I smile through my pain. “I’ll get right on that, angel, as soon as you agree to stay here.”
My apartment is cool and dark, as always, but it’s also teeming with unfamiliar sounds. A spring shifts on the couch as Ciprian rolls over, the steady puff of Luca’s breathing across the hall. If I listen hard enough, I can even make out the sounds of three steadily beating hearts, disrupting the aching quiet of my normally empty home.
“I heard you the first time, Alistair.” Celine’s hand balls into a fist between us. “The answer is still no.”
I sigh, a groan catching in my throat as I roll onto my back and the ruptured muscles in my belly protest. “Luca lives alone?”
“Yeah, why?” Celine’s tone is laced with suspicion.
“No reason,” I say innocently. “I’m wondering what would have happened to him if those angels had broken into his place instead of attacking me in the street.”
It’s not a nice thing to say, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I want to spend time visiting her bed, not her headstone.
Celine sucks in a breath, the skin around her eyes tightening. “You might remember I already raised this concern and provided a solution. You both told me to fuck off.”
“The situation has changed,” I admit.
“My offer stands.” Celine shifts, retreating from me physically by an inch or two. It’s the distance in her eyes that hurts as much as the sword in my belly.You prepared for this, Alistair.
“We can break up later today,” she continues. “Plenty of people will be around at the club to see.”
I keep my face blank, refusing to show how her words sting. She’s being logical, even selfless in a way. It’s not what I want. Like the air that fills her lungs or her precious motorcycle, I want to be something Celine can’t live without.
“That remains the worst choice,” I say bluntly. “We need topivot, adapt—make changes that keep us all safe. Strategize with me, Celine. Use your resources.”
“You aren’t a resource, Alistair.” She bites the words out through clenched teeth, her hushed tone furious. “I don’t know why we’re discussing this. You were run through because of me. You should be running for the hills.”
“I’m not up for running yet,” I tease. Rolling onto my side, I reach for her, brushing my fingertips over her cheek. “But I wouldn’t even if I could. Move in with me. Please.”
“Surely you want your space,” she tries, nibbling on her bottom lip. There’s a gleam in her brown eyes. I lean closer, jealous of whatever inspired that expression.
“My space is infinitely preferable with you in it.”
“I’ll agree on two conditions: one, you move in with me; two, Luca also has to agree.”
Victory rolls over me, frenzied and delicious. I can barely hide my delight. If she thinks Luca won’t jump on this, she’s lost her mind. He’s going to be thrilled. The very idea that he would refuse is laughable.
I lace her fingers with mine, running my thumb over the back of her hand lazily. The tingling, aching discomfort behind my abs helps to obscure my eagerness, and I’m grateful for pain for the first time in eight hours.
“I’ll sunproof today and bring in a bed for my spare room,” she says.
I frown, and Celine rolls her eyes. “We need space, Alistair. There’s safety in numbers, but the reality is we’re all used to living alone and having things a certain way. If someone needs to cool off, I want them to be able to without being on top of each other.”
I grunt, seeing the wisdom in her plan, but not loving it. On top of each other is exactly where I want to be.
“I’m going to invite Ciprian too,” she says.
My frown grows.
“He killed three angels last night,” she reminds me. “If my dad was watching, Ciprian could be a target now too.”
