Godsdamn it, this cutthroat blood fae needs to stop showing me his soft side. It's too endearing.
He has a point about the Immortal Quintet, though. I don't like the idea of being brought to them in the middle of the night, half-naked in a ripped-up dress for interrogation if I'm caught.
The solution? I'll simply not get caught.
Because there's no way I can sleep here. I'm supposed to be platonic with them. No matter what Baelfire said, I can'tactuallybe their keeper and have the things they think they want with me.
I slip around Silas, open the door, and give him a genuinely apologetic half-smile over my shoulder before he can stop me.
"See you in the morning."
Kenzie isn't at Everbound.
But the changeling is, somewhere.
That's all we managed to get out of Silas's efforts since, according to him, the changeling is utilizing an amulet that throws off any tracking spells. He still doesn't know it was changeling blood he was casting with, but at least now I know that the monster I'm hunting is still trapped inside the castle. Which means I just need to hunt it down.
The trouble is finding the time to do that since classes have started.
We found our class schedule posted outside the dining hall earlier. Now Silas, Baelfire, and I are on our way to Fiend Studies 101, with Crypt trailing behind us in Limbo. The halls of Everbound are filled with the stares, whispers, and tension of legacies on edge. They stick to groups, both matched and unmatched, and size each other up at every chance. The air is thick with the possibility of death at any moment.
It's positively sinister. I wish I could enjoy it more fully, but I'm drawing too much attention.
Dozens of pairs of eyes track my every move since I'm supposed to be the keeper of four of the most powerful legacies here. I'm a target for all the competitive monster spawn here, and it's making Baelfire and Silas look like they want to stab someone.
Which reminds me.
"After class, I want Pierce," I mutter quietly enough that no other legacies will overhear.
Baelfire shoots me a sharp look already tinged with jealousy. "Pierce? Who the fuck is that? Is some other guy trying to?—"
"My dagger," I clarify.
Silas pauses, and I don't miss their shared glance before he responds. "You had other daggers strapped to your thigh last night. Just use those."
I clench my jaw. Why would he keep my favorite weapon from me?
Meanwhile, Baelfire misses a step, his golden eyes darting between us. "Back the fuck up. Her thigh,last night?As in, after I left? Did you two…?"
I don't bother acknowledging the question he was about to ask since my face already feels warm enough remembering a certain someone's ridiculously talented tongue. Silas just looks smug as hell.
"You fucker. You could've at least invited me to watch," Bael huffs, pouting.
"I didn't take you for a voyeur."
"Normally, no. But it'sMaven. You think I'd willingly miss all those sexy sounds she makes when she comes?"
"They were delectable," Silas smirks. "As was she. I now fully understand your desire to be smothered by Maven. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would have kept my face between her thighs all night."
Holy fucking gods. Are they seriously having this conversation in broad daylight?
Baelfire swears harshly, shoving Silas's shoulder. "You're a godsdamned asshole."
"You'rebothgodsdamned assholes," I inform them, pretending like my neck and face aren't currently on fire. "And we're still platonic."
They both snort at that, which makes me sigh heavily. I don't get it. They were furious with my antics at the Matched Ball. Icame so close to telling them about the inconvenient little fact that they can't get attached to my heart because it was ripped out of my chest years ago.
But then my episode happened, I woke up, and they were suddenly full steam ahead.
