I grit my teeth. He’s right, but being in nonstop danger for weeks has done a number on my nervous system. When everything is scary all the time, it starts to feel like nothing is.
After we finish our sweep and find nothing out of place, we trudge back to the spot where we’re supposed to meet Celine, Riven, and Riven’s magic rock. I hate how object-tethered transportation makes me feel as if my body is traveling through a crazy straw, but I like how it always spits me out in the warmth of the safe house.
We beat them to the meeting spot. I blow air into my numb hands and look at the others, raising my eyebrows. “I’ve got something I wanted to run by you,” I say.
Luca gives me a small smile and nods. Ali looks suspicious, and I’m not sure Malach is even listening. Spaced out, he’s staring blankly at the curved horizon, scratching his pelvis like he accidentally rolled in ants.
Ignoring him, I focus on the other two. “When we get to Vegas, I don’t think we should stay at Celine’s place.”
Luca’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “My apartment doesn’t have room for all of us, and Ali would have to clear outhis office.”
Alistair tilts his head and studies my face. “Are you saying we shouldn’t return to her apartment or that we shouldn’t return to the Fringes at all?”
There’s suspicion in his tone, and I sigh. “It’s too lawless. Think about it: S’lach is escalating. He’s had us trapped here for weeks, but if we escape to Vegas, he’ll throw everything he’s got at us. We’ll either be dead or captured again in forty-eight hours.”
“What’s your alternative?” Ali’s blue eyes are hard, closer to steel than soft denim.
I lift my chin. “I think we should go to the compound—at least while we regroup. There’s plenty of room for us there. It’s a fortress, and S’lach won’t be able to get to Celine without going through a lot of other people first.”
“Have you mentioned this to her?” Malach asks.
I shake my head. “I wanted to talk to you first. Celine’s been there before. She knows she’d be safe, but she won’t go for it unless everyone else does too. There’s no way she leaves anyone unprotected after what she went through in the arena to keep us alive.”
Luca winces. “I’m not sure she’ll want to hide out at the enclave either, Ciprian.”
I run the toe of one boot through the ice and dirt. “I know that. That’s why I’m suggesting we go there temporarily. Long enough to put together a plan to take S’lach down without constantly glancing over our shoulders. Once Celine decides how she wants to handle things, we’ll leave.”
“I hate how much sense you’re making,” Luca groans.
Malach’s eyes cloud again as he surveys our surroundings. “I go where Celine goes.”
I nod grimly, then focus on Alistair. Red bleeds into the blue of his eyes. Time stretches, and I shift my weight uncomfortably to keep my sluggish blood circulating. I knew Ali would be the hardest sell. If his clients find out he’s staying at the compound,they’ll think he’s a rat. He’ll lose credibility. But if they find out he’s sleeping with me...
My stomach twists. I’d rather not force this conversation. Everything is new, nothing we’ve gone through is normal, and the truth is: Alistair could always change his mind about me, but I can’t change who I am.
“I’ll leave it up to Celine,” he finally says.
I nod. It’s not an outright no. I need to lay off. It won’t do me any good to act desperate. It will, however, make any future rejection twice as humiliating.
A flicker of movement behind Ali draws my attention. I look that way, scramble for my magic, and relax as I see Celine and Riven approaching.
“What’s my favorite drink?” I ask Celine.
She smirks. “Whatever Luca decides to make you.”
I kiss her cheek, and the skin is warm and soft against my lips.
We squeeze together in an awkward wad, all angles and lumps, then the stone activates. I close my eyes and beg my stomach to behave as it sucks us up and spits us out in the living room.
“Any signs of a pattern change?” Riven asks.
Alistair shakes his head. “Everything was the same.”
“Tomorrow, then.” Riven dips his head, and the strange quivering lines run across his face before settling back to normal.
Tomorrow. We’re going home, or we’ll die trying.
FORTY-ONE
