“Hang on—”
“You have always been impulsive, I’ve told you time and again you need to be more mindful. What’s his preferred weapon?” Her mother said, cutting off Devin who followed their conversation with his jaw open and brow furrowed.
“From what I’ve seen, knives. But that could just be because it’s all that was available.”
“Wait a damn minute,” Devin growled, forcing them to acknowledge him.
Miranda winced. Tactical observations were as ingrained in her as reciting her alphabet. And while observation of the larger picture and scene had always escaped her, assessing individuals was second nature. When her mother asked, she had replied automatically.
“First, I’m right here, Lady Wilde, should you have a question you only need to ask. Second, I am hardly prone to distraction.” His eyes landed on Miranda and then he looked away quickly, “Mostly, not prone to distraction. And third, we were given swords during the war and that is what I trained with, but I’ve had to defend myself enough times without preparation that I’m more versatile with my hands.”
Miranda’s thoughts drifted, her eyes dipped to his hands, toward memories she’d rather not ponder with her mother present. She chewed her lip as she crossed her legs and tried not to let her improper thoughts show. If her mother noticed, she said nothing.
“I apologize, Lord Drake, Miranda was trained to assess her enemies and allies for strengths and weaknesses. I assumed you didn’t have technical training to provide me what I needed. And, if I am honest, I am not quite myself. I…I’m worried about your sister, Miri. She has been missing for several hours, at least, there is so much that…”
“I know,” Miranda said as she set her hand on her mother’s and they were silent until the carriage drew to a halt. She hoped they weren’t too late.
Chapter Twelve
Thecarriagestoppedwellclear of the marina, but hints of brine and fish managed to laced the air even here. Or perhaps that was just sobriety.
Now that Devin wasn’t suppressing his Aura Sight, all of his senses were returning to normal. Vision was that much sharper. Peripheral that much wider. Reactions quicker, stability that much sounder. He could smell each distinct note of perfume from the women beside him and somehow differentiate it from the scents outside.
Over the years, he’d adapted to the inebriation, found ways to compensate for what he lacked. His tolerance allowed him to function at baseline human levels. Without the alcohol, the parts of him that didn’t conform to humanity were becoming glaring. He felt other again. He felt fae.
Lady Wilde set off ahead as soon as they stopped, not bothering to wait.
In a few moments, there would be no turning back. Their course would be set and whatever fate had in store…there’d be no escape.
Devin caught Miranda’s arm before she could follow her mother. His hand lingered, not willing to release her, yet knowing that under her mother’s stare and the grim circumstances he might not be able to touch her like this again. She didn’t protest, but there was a distance in her gaze that had grown since talking with her father.
It didn’t take imagination to guess what was said between them. The disapproval and objections, the outrage that she would choose someone like him to debase herself. The confident, bright colors of her aura were edged in the faintest, almost translucent shade of lavender doubt.
Doubt.
He steeled himself for the worst. Because there was a chance he would not survive this mission and there were things he wanted to say.
“I don’t know if we’ll get another chance to talk and,” His hand eased her closer, instinctively, because he was lost at sea and her touch alone kept the waves at bay. “If the worse should happen, I…”
Her gaze was open, waiting. Hanging on his words and he knew there were seconds left to him before her mother noticed they weren’t following. Yet the words died in his throat, trapped, choking him. Because this was all too new and he was afraid. There was no red thread connecting him to her. There was no certainty there ever would be one. And was it fair to stick her with a declaration that would do little more than tether her to a memory if the worst should happen to him?
“Yes?” She prompted, inching closer like she needed to hear him say it, like she knew.
He kissed her.
If he couldn’t tell her that she made himfinallywant to live, that he found something that meant more to him than his blasted revenge, then maybe he couldshowher.
He poured all of himself into her, hand cradling her cheek, arm wrapped around her waist so his fingers could sink into the dip of her hip. It was a kiss loaded with promise, with the unsaid. He kissed her to say that if he survived this, he was never going to stop kissing her for as long as she let him. He kissed her to promise that if he saw tomorrow, he was hers forever.
He didn’t stop kissing her when tenderness melted into carnal, or as her nails started to bite or as his mouth shifted from adoring to ravenous. He pressed his luck as their undeniable chemistry teetered on combustion.
Devin pushed fate until the fear of Lady Wilde tossing him into traffic won out. He pulled away to press his forehead to hers, lingering for only a breath of a moment before meeting her eyes. The uncertainty and doubt lingered. But she continued to hold him, like she was just as afraid to let go.
“We have to get my sister back,” she started, “But after…we can figure it out, after.”
He desperately hoped there would be an after.
“We should catch up to your mother before she kills me,” he said.
