“Relax,” Tarian says, coming up behind Calanthe and tying his arms around her middle. His command has the opposite effect of calming. “If we wanted the two of you dead, we’d have shipped you back to your little sect.”
Calanthe flicks her fiancé’s wrist, her finger bumping against his solid gold watch. “Babe, that’s not nice.”
Although he doesn’t let go of Calanthe, his neck straightens, and his mouth flattens. “Their sect has been targeting us for years…”
“Theyare not their sect. Just like Gael Monta isn’tus.”
Tarian harrumphs, clearly unimpressed with her reasoning.
I am, though. “How can Quinn and I prove we’re not like them?”
“By going back in and dismantling their organization,” Malachi suggests.
Quinn’s jaw clenches. “Unless we wear your runes, that’s a death sentence.”
A smirk tugs at Malachi’s mouth. “You’re right, Miss Hayes. We should take you to the mine. What do you think, Tar?”
Tarian’s mouth kinks. “There’s plenty of space on the plane…”
Calanthe’s mouth twists around a hiss, while Electra utters a flat, “No.”
“They’ll be coming to Atlantis with us anyway, Elle,” Malachi points out. “Unless you trust someone else to watch them?”
She purses her pretty lips.
Malachi nods to the door. “A word, Elle.”
I watch them leave, my eardrums straining to follow. Instead, I walk over to the buffet and make myself a plate. I’m halfway done sampling all of the different dishes when they return. Well, Malachi does.
“This just came for you, Reeve,” Malachi says.
Even with a shattered lens, I succeed at catching the small box Malachi tosses my way. A logo I’ve never seen adorns the black cardboard. As I pull open the tabs, my eyebrows drop, then hitch high at its contents—an eyeglass case. “Are these magical?”
“No. Why?”
“Because it usually takes forever to get corrective lenses.” I swap my broken ones for the new pair, which must’ve cost a fortune, seeing as the lenses are as thin as fingernails and the frames not crafted from cheap plastic.
“Aren’t you glad we’re well connected?” he says.
Quinn’s dark eyebrows flatten. I know what she’s thinking, attuned to reading her face: I should be careful about accepting gifts from the Atlanteans.
Which is why I say, “I have money in the bag Electra confiscated. I’ll only keep the glasses if you allow me to pay for them, Mr. Hadez.”
Malachi flutters his fingers. “Let’s discuss it after our trip.”
The kitchen door opens.
Electra remains on the threshold, her body drawn tight with tension. “Cars are out front. Dorian and Diego just got to theplane with…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but I sense the ending—with Ines. “Pilots are ready when we are.”
Are Quinn and I part of thewe?
Chapter 61
Electra
Malachi’s plan caused me—isstillcausing me so much anxiety that Calanthe stuck me in the front with Tarian, Malachi, and Dorian.
Although my neck burns from the weight of Reeve’s scrutiny, I’ve stuck to the seating plan and kept my eyes facing forward. It’s only once we’re halfway across the Atlantic that I leave my seat, and it’s only to visit the bathroom. I don’t stop to talk with anyone on the way.
