“That’s basically my plan. Only, Antony says he doesn’t know where Brutus is hiding.”
The corner of Noah’s mouth quirks up into a smile that’s saturated in violence. “Maybe it’s time we joined the search.”
* * *
We decideto ambush Eli at school the next day. We’ll drag him somewhere private andmakehim see reason. I’ll kiss him until he doesn’t know which way is up, if it comes to that. My lips still ache to kiss him – not the stolen kisses from the dance, but arealkiss – the kind where we need each other to breathe.
But he’s not at school again, and neither is George. I ask Mr. Ross if he’s heard from George, and he says he’s not allowed to discuss another student’s medical history with me. I text her to see if she’s okay, and she sends me a photo of her lying in bed making a duck face. Her hair’s a mess and she’s got a thermometer in her mouth and a glass of orange juice in her hand.I’m sick. It’s a total drag. Miss your face.
Something about the photograph nags at me. “Look at this.” I show it to Noah.
“Oh, poor George.” He looks at my face. “You look worried. I’m sure it’s just a bug or something. I can take you around there if you want—”
“It’s not that. Look at the arm.”
“The…” Noah frowns in confusion.
“The arm!” I jab my finger at the photograph. Along the side of the screen, just visible on George’s Emily the Strange bedspread, is the very edge of a human arm. One that’s definitely not attached to George’s body.
“So? It’s probably her mother.”
“Not unless her mother is a bodybuilder. Look at the muscle.” I draw around the shape of the shoulder with my finger. My throat tightens.
“I bet it’s Isaac looking after his girl.”
“Isaac has tattoos. That arm is perfectly clean.” I know that arm. It’s Eli. Iknowit.
Eli’s in George’s bed.
Fuck.
“Whatcha looking at?” A hand drapes over my shoulder, and a warm cheek grazes mine. “No offense to George, but that is theworstamateur porn I’ve ever seen.”
My throat closes as a heady, smoky scent fills my nostrils.
“GABRIEL?”
I whirl around, my heart leaping into my throat.
There he is. Standing around like he never left, like he was never dragged out of school by the cops or stuck in a jail cell for three days. My fallen angel laughs as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me under the spell of his sultry pagan scent. He’s wearing his leather jacket over his crumpled Stonehurst uniform, and it crackles as his hands roam over my body as though he’s trying to commit my curves to memory.
“Miss me?” His lips pull back into a cocky grin. He’s got a week’s worth of stubble on his chin, and it suits him.
“That’s a stupid fucking quest—” Gabriel swallows my words with his mouth. I gasp as his kiss whips the air from my lungs. He forces my lips open and dives his tongue inside. This kiss is so much more than anything we’ve shared before – this isn’t flirty, playful Gabriel whose body is like a drug I can’t get enough of. This is Gabriel who has dragged himself out of the desert and fallen into a lake of crystal clear water. This is my fallen angel getting his wings back.
He pushes me against the lockers, and I don’t give a fuck that we’re in the middle of school, that all around us people are whispering. I want to crawl into his skin and live inside his scent forever. When I suck his bottom lip and he lets out a beautiful moan, I taste how close I was to losing him, and I plan to cling to him and never, ever let go.
Someone wolf-whistles. Along the corridor, a smattering of students cheer – the same people who only a few days ago were denouncing him as a killer. I want to burn them all, and I will, but not now. Not yet.
Right now, I live for Gabriel’s kiss.
His lips are like silk, and his tongue plays a melody only I can hear. His eyes are wide open, like he needs to drink in the sight of me after so much time apart.
Gabriel pulls back a little, gasping for breath. His hair has fallen over his eyes. I reach up to tuck it back so I can topple into those beautiful grey orbs, all stormy at the edges and crystal clear in the middle.
“Don’t scare me like that again.” My nails dig into his shoulders. “What are you doing here? Did you tunnel your way out with a rusty spoon?”
“Don’t tell me, you bribed a guard with a bit of British totty.” Noah grins. Even his dark eyes are brighter today.
