Shit.
From the next room, I hear Geo's distinctive snoring. The bastard sounds like a chainsaw trying to mate with a garbage disposal. At least that answers one question—he made it through the night without killing Azarel or getting himself and Knight killed.
I’m starting to get attached to that overgrown fucker.
NotGeo.
"Morning," I say warily, trying to keep my head turned so she can't see my fucked up eye. Or lack of an eye.
She's propped up on the pillows, silk sheets pooled around her waist, wearing nothing but one of Raven's shirts that she’s swimming in even with the generous swell of her breasts and lush curves. Her hair's a mess of silver tangles, and there are still faint red spots on her neck from where Raven got a little enthusiastic last night.
She looks like sin wrapped in innocence.
And she'ssmiling.
Not the sharp, cutting smile she uses as a weapon. This one's different. Playful. Almost... mischievous.
"What are you doing?" I ask, suspicion crawling up my spine.
"Nothing," she says, far too innocently.
My eyes narrow. "Cosima."
"What?" She blinks at me, all wide-eyed and guileless, and I know I'm fucked. "I'm just lying here. Minding my own business."
"Bullshit." I take a step closer, trying to read her. Figure out what game she's playing. "You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're about to cause an international incident. Again."
She laughs, the sound bright and genuine, and it does something to my insides that I don't want to examine. "You're paranoid, Niko."
My heart stutters at the nickname.
"I'm realistic," I counter, recovering, moving toward the dresser where I left my eye. "There's a difference."
I keep my hair positioned carefully as I reach for the small wooden box inside the drawer, already planning how to slip the prosthetic in without her noticing. Open the lid, and?—
Empty.
The box is fuckingempty.
Ice floods my veins. I stare at the velvet interior where my eye should be, my brain refusing to process what I'm seeing. Then, slowly, I turn to look at Cosima.
She's examining her pointed nails with affected casualness, but I can see the smile tugging at her lips.
"What the hell did you do with it?"
She looks up, blinking innocently. "With what?"
"Myeye, Cosima." I take a step toward the bed. "Where is it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she says, but her smile widens.
A growl builds in my chest but I'm finding it hard to be half as annoyed as I should be. "Cosima."
"Nikolai," she mimics my tone perfectly.
