Alistair audibly clears his throat. “You two be careful,” he says. “There’s something going on here that we’re missing. We need to quit reacting, put our heads together, and figure it out.”
Celine doesn’t respond, and I’m tempted to look around the curtain and make sure my declaration didn’t actually scare her to death. I don’t, though. I can’t, at least not while I’m holding out hope that she’ll yank the vinyl back herself and tell me she loves me too.
“We’ll be careful,” I tell Alistair. “Hopefully, whoever broke in left a clue behind, or maybe these kids have more to say.”
Still nothing.
Alistair frowns, then pokes his head out of the shower. “Celine,” he calls.
No answer.
“You don’t think . . .” I mutter. “She wouldn’t take off without me while all of this is going on?”
“I’ll wring her neck if she did.” Alistair looks back at me, his eyes glowing red. He shakes his head to clear them, clenching his jaw tight.
“It would be on brand for her,” I say.
Turning the water off, I wrap a towel around my waist and rush into the bedroom. There’s no sign of red hair or wings. Alistair surges down the hall, completely naked, not even bothering with a towel. He’s barely out of sight when I hear a furious growl.
“She’s gone,” he snarls. “They both are.”
I push my throbbing emotions aside, leaving only cold, focused determination. This isn’t a crisis, but I need to find her and make sure she’s okay. Knowing her hang-ups, I should have expected this, but part of me thought we were past it.
“I’ll find her,” I tell Alistair, noting the crazed gleam in his eyes and feeling vaguely relieved that he’s stuck indoors for this one. “I’ll find her. I swear.”
I mean it as much as I meant what I said to Celine in the bathroom. The only difference is, Alistair believes me without magic to prove it.
THIRTY-ONE
Enclave Edict #1:
Protect the supernatural community.
CIPRIAN
I’m not exactly sure what’s going on, but I’ve heard enough shit hit the fan over the years to recognize the sound.
So, when Celine tears past me on the couch and my gut tells me to follow, I listen to it. Slipping into my shoes, I throw on last night’s shirt and run down the stairs, skidding into the street in the nick of time. She’s slipping her helmet over her hair when I plant my feet in front of her bike and clear my throat.
“Going somewhere, hot wings?” I let her livid glare bounce off me like rain on an umbrella. If only I could have done the same when Alistair pushed my buttons earlier.
“Get out of my way,” she says, her knuckles bone white against the handlebars.
“You know, if I’d known I’d get this little sleep while staying at your place—and not a single reason for it would be sexy—I might have turned your offer down.”
Celine glances at the empty staircase that leads to her unit, anger seeping from every pore. “I don’t have time for this,” she snaps.
I pretend not to hear her, scratching my elbow and adopting a casual stance. “I thought no one was going around alone for now. Something about safety in numbers.”
“Look, Ciprian, I’m not doing anything crazy,” she says, sounding, well... pretty fucking crazy. “But this is my apartment. I need a little space. Some alone time.”
I hear a slight waver in her voice and frown. “Makes perfect sense. Can I come with you?”
Celine stares up at the sky like she’s begging a deity for patience. I’m familiar with the expression. Mom loves it.
“If you come, I wouldn’t be alone,” Celine argues.
“Sure you would,” I say. “We would just be alone together.”
