“Be right there, honey! Oh, hey, Mal,” she says just as Quinn draws the door of the pantry shut. “You don’t look too hot,” I hear her tell him.
“Getting shot will do that to you. Where’s Elle? Is she okay?” Malachi’s concern is a balm to my bruised heart.
“She’s just fine,” Callie tells him. “Babe? Where do you want Gael?”
Though Tarian’s voice is faint, I don’t miss his answer, “Six feet under.”
Nor do I miss Calanthe’s snicker.
When my family’s conversation grows dimmer, Reeve tries again to get my attention by calling out my name.
I finally turn. Blood doesn’t faze me, which is fortunate, seeing as he’s drenched in it. I must be as well, but wearing black has its perks.
I cross my arms. “I’m sorry for what the others did to you. I never meant for things to spiral?—”
“The love I have for Quinn?—”
“I really don’t care, Reeve.”
“Icare.” His tone is so sharp that my lids spasm. “I care that you understand that it’s the same sort of love you have for Dorian.” He speaks fast, as though he fears I might cut him off again.
“Why do you think I’d care after how you betrayed me?”
“Maybe you don’t, but I still want you to know.”
“Great. Awesome.” I add a shrug.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“I didn’t.”
His lips gather to the side in what looks like a crooked smile—or a grimace. Hard to tell considering his extensive bruising.
“You’re lucky Quinn cared enough to beg Tarian to bring you back from the dead.”
“I’m lucky you cared enough to intervene during your father’s questioning.”
“That piece of shit isn’t my father. And we can’t exactly bring down your organization if our intel sources are both dead.”
“Not mine,” he intones. “I haven’t been part of it for the last six years.”
“Yet you seduced me”—the words taste bitter, but I spit them out—“to destroy the mine, so your goals are aligned with the Hunters’.”
“My goal was to save Quinn. Falling for you wasn’t part of the plan, but I fell. I was going to tell you this morning. I even wrote you a message, but then my phone died. If you don’t believe me, click into my phone’s message thread. I bet it’s still there.”
“I’m afraid your phone suffered irreparable damage. I’ll get you a new one in the morning.”
“I don’t care about the phone. I only wanted to show you the message. Electra, I loveyou.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
“Impossible.”
“I love you so much it’s fucking ridiculous.”
I snort. “We can agree on the last part.”
