“Everyone’s fascinated by Celine,” Ciprian says. “Look at her.”
“I think you’re off base with that,” Celine mutters. “He’s a hired assassin. He doesn’t know me, and it wouldn’t change anything if he did.”
“You’re not thinking strategically,” Malach says. “You are truth brought to life, and he is the ultimate lie; I would be more surprised if he didn’t find you fascinating.”
“What are you suggesting?” I ask.
“Creative thinking without antagonism. Perhaps he can be swayed.”
“No way,” I hiss. “I don’t want Celine anywhere near him.”
“I’m not suggesting she climb into his bed?—”
“You want me to flirt with him,” Celine says, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
Malach’s face turns pink. “You’re quite good at it, my truth.”
Celine kisses his blushing cheek. “Do you really think so?” Each word is dripping with seduction. I could be three years dead, but if she talked to me that way, I would resurrect myself to get more of her attention.
Malach grabs her hips and drags her between his legs. “You torment me,” he groans. “Exactly as intended.”
Celine kisses his other cheek, then plops down in his lap. Malach wraps one enormous arm around her. He tries to be casual, but his red face gives him away. I hide my smile. If I triedto steal her attention, I think he would challenge me to a duel or something.
“It’s not a bad plan,” Ciprian says. “If he can get past the death threats, of course. But how is she supposed to get her flirt on when the motherfucker never bothers to show up? I’m starting to think his plan is to bore us to death.”
“You can’t die of boredom,” Alistair says.
“Maybeyoucan’t, but I have an active brain. It’s withering like a worm on a hot sidewalk.”
“Ew.” Celine shoots him a disgusted look. “Gross metaphor, Casanell.”
He claps a hand over his heart. “It’s Casanell again? I was Ciprian when my cock was inside you.”
“And where is your cock now?” Celine asks drily.
“In my pants.” Ciprian winks. “But I can pull it out whenever you want, hot wings. You only need to say the word.”
“We’re strategizing,” Malach says.
Ciprian groans. “Even if Celine flirts with the faceless fuck, we’re sitting ducks without our magic.”
I nod. “We need to escape while we’re not under any dampeners.”
“Which only happens in the arena with thousands of people watching our every move,” Celine says. “Even if we could pull that off, we’d have an army after us.”
“The blood tourists wouldn’t bother,” I say. “They bet on violence, but most would crumple like a used tissue after one punch.”
Celine sighs. “I guess that’s a plus, but it’s not much. We’ve basically got nothing.”
“No,” Alistair says. “We’ve got each other, which is more than we had three days ago. If we stick together, there’s no problem we can’t solve.”
Ciprian flops down on the bed and groans. “Thanks for thepep talk. I remain unconvinced.” His shirt rides up and reveals a slice of chiseled stomach. Alistair’s eyes lock on the exposed skin, and I hide my grin.
We may be in prison, but that hasn’t done a damn thing to dull the sexual tension. If anything, the boredom and stress are adding to the horny factor.
Malach purses his lips. “If no one has any other ideas, we should train.”
“Fuck no.” Ciprian lifts his head to glare at Malach. “My kidney still hurts from that hit you landed yesterday. I’m lucky I’m not pissing blood.”
