My fingers spasm around the back of the couch. I don’t have a clue what she’ll say next.
I should hate it.
“Follow me,” I say quietly, prying my fingers off the leather and hanging my cloak on the spike before leading her to my room.
We pass their room on the way. The voices behind the closed door are muffled. Are they fighting? Surely Celine isn’t trying to use me to make them jealous. The idea gives me a thrill. Then the glass wall forces me to acknowledge my reflection, and I flinch.
I’m a fool. They’d never be jealous of me, and she knows that.
Celine follows me into my room. She moves with liquid sensuality, waves crashing on the beach. Too aggressive to be simply pretty, her gait is the split-second buildup before an all-out sprint.
She closes the door behind us, and her shoulders droop.
I take a startled step toward her before I can stop myself. “What’s wrong, darling?”
Celine opens her mouth, closes it again, then rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “When my father hired you...” She leans forward while keeping her feet firmly planted. “Did he mention if anyone else was working for him?”
The hairs on my arms stand on end. This isn’t a casual question, and we both know it.
Celine needs my answer, but she doesn’t want it.
I turn to my closet and shuffle through the clothes. I don’t need a clean shirt, but I do need a moment to gather myself. She sees too much.
“Riven, please . . .” her voice is earnest.
My eyes flutter shut. “I suspect your father has many people on his payroll.” I turn to face her, the shirt I don’t need hanging from my fingers. “That’s the impression he gave me, at least. Without specifics, of course.”
“Of course,” she echoes me, and her wings sag. Not low enough for the tips to drag the floor, but low enough for me to know I’ve let her down.
“I’ve disappointed you.” I glance at her curled fingers. “Or someone else has.”
Her chin shoots up, locking in the stubborn tilt I’ve come to expect from her. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
A flicker of frustration passes through her eyes. “Forever my downfall,” she mutters, ruffling her wings. “And part of the reason I’m in this mess to begin with.”
I sit on the edge of my bed and relax my shoulders. I don’t want Celine to see me as a threat. I want her to keep confiding in me. Every piece of the puzzle she reveals brings me closer to the full picture.
“Your father lacks many things,” I murmur. “But there’s no limit to his hunger. He won’t be satisfied with controlling the celestial realm for long. In his pursuit of you, he aimed his sights outward, and he likes what he sees.”
Celine’s hands fist. She paces, drawing a straight line from my bedroom door to the wall and back again.
“What am I supposed to do with that information, Riven? I know he’s a psycho. I know he’s power hungry. And I’m more than familiar with his compulsion to target those he considers weaker.”
She waves her hands. “So what would you have me do? Hand myself over to him? Hope I get a lucky shot in while his back is turned? Maybe I should march home, kick down the front gates, and challenge him to a duel, huh?”
I lock my jaw, refusing to interrupt her before she’s done.
“Hey, Dad, remember when you told me you wouldn’t knock the shit out of me or Mom anymore if I could beat you in a fight? I’m finally ready, let’s go again! Except I want to renegotiate on behalf of the whole universe. I kick your ass now and you’ll skip off into the eternal beyond. Do we have a deal?”
She scoffs, the sound dripping with bitterness. “Because that would go really fucking well, wouldn’t it, Riven? One snap of his fingers. One whispered command, and I’m back in that prison he calls a home, wishing I was dead.”
I shoot to my feet and block her path.
“Absolutely not,” I hiss. “You’ve been hanging around with too many idiots with hero complexes if you think I’d suggest a stupid plan like that.”
“You’re in my way.” Celine looks pointedly at me, but I refuse to budge.
