Alaric let out a little sigh.
He glanced at the French doors leading to my balcony, wineglass in hand, still stroking my cat. Warm, slightly humid summer air fluttered the sheer white curtains on either side.
Blinking as he absorbed my words, Alaric shook his head.
“Sadly, I can’t.” He glanced down at Wraith, fingers stroking her soft fur. “And no rules tonight, love. I’ll need all the fortification I can get before I walk out that door. Really, you should offer to make me a proper cocktail, as my sparkling hostess.” He glanced up hopefully. “How are your Serpent Martinis?”
I frowned, still watching his face as I took another sip.
“Not fabulous,” I admitted. “I’ve only ever tried once.”
“Ah. Pity.”
“You reallydidmake me promise,” I said, the tiniest scold in my voice.
“I know. But it won’t matter tonight,” he sighed.
When he fell silent, I nudged his shoulder with mine.
“There’s no need to get blackout drunk, you know. Nothing bad happened, even if I still managed to look at all the wrong things.” I bit my lip, then offered it, anyway. “We can try again tomorrow, if you like. With the recording, I mean. This one was pretty detailed, so it’spossibleI can get another look. I’ll have a better idea of where to aim my eyes this time.”
He looked startled for the barest breath.
Then his expression grew a touch worried.
“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea––” he began cautiously.
“Well, think on it,” I said, cutting him off before he could say no. “All I need is a family crest, or a ring, maybe. And you can probably help me more, since you won’t have the Priest’s signal to worry about.” I hesitated, then added, my voice subdued, “Otherwise we might be waiting weeks for another missive, you know.”
His hazel eyes regained a touch of that manic light. He nodded slowly, thoughtfully, taking another drink of the wine while he stroked my cat.
He glanced at me, his expression nearly stricken.
“You know, I’d probably go crazy if I didn’t have you to talk to about this, Leda,” he said, his eyes and voice serious. “I mean it. I don’t think I would’ve got through this summer without you. I’d have run off to the Maldives by now, paid a dark sorcerer to change my face, if not turn me into a blond, pale-skinned witch.”
For some reason, Alaric’s quiet confession made me feel guilty all over again. Was I taking advantage of that need in him? Was I using his desperation to quell my own? Or was it just that webothneeded this, so we were each feeding one another’s unhealthy spirals? I honestly couldn’t decide. Before I could think how to reply to his words, he sucked down another mouthful of wine. His hazel eyes met mine as he lowered the glass.
“And when I said ‘I can’t’ earlier, I meant Ravenous,” he added apologetically. “I can’t go out with you tonight, sweetness. I promised. And I’ve been putting him off for weeks.”
I hated that I understood instantly.
I knewinstantlywho and what Alaric meant.
My chest started to hurt in the same breath.
Alaric took another quick drink and added, “He sounded positively feral when I spoke to him earlier. I don’t dare change plans on him again. I certainly can’t risk showing up at a club withyouafter telling him I’m unavailable. If he happened to be at the same place, or even hear about it from someone else, he mightactuallykill me.”
I scoffed, but half-choked on it. I felt my face grow hot as I looked away.
Was it anger? Sadness? Frustration?
Some other reaction I was even less interested in dissecting?
A sick roil of nausea swept through me at the thought, starting with my gut and ending with a hardening of my jaw. My stomach twisted in a familiar, leaden way that made me feel hopeless, confused, grief-stricken, and worse, embarrassed.
How did just thebarestreminder of his existence still affect me like this?
What was wrong with me? Was my brain broken? Some other part of me?
