Eli sits up next to me, but one look, and my stomach sinks. His eyes are liquid again, puddles of hazel and streaks of brown, a homicidal glint in them. Still, they’re heart-stopping. He grabs my thigh with a grip tight enough to bruise bone.
“What?” I whisper.
He puts his lips to my ear, pulling me close by my upper arm, each finger a painful point of contact he can’t control. “I need you again.”
I try to pull away despite the way my body reacts to his request, but he yanks me back and shoves his tongue in my ear. I yelp and clap a hand over the wetness, hurrying to stand up. I stumble into Kaleida.
Eli laughs. And Milo. Then the others. And straight from my chest, bubbling up beyond my control, I laugh too. I try to forget about his lethal look. About Kelter not wanting to see me. The visions from the last few hours. And the warmth of my mother’s blood when I took her life.
But I can’t forget about Zandrite. How he buried me alive. How killing him is the key to fixing Eli’s immortality.
Because taking one more life might killme.
Kaleida hands out a round of bars, declaring these were all that were left at Milo’s house as she splits the last one in half for her and Atom.
I hold the smashed bar to my nose like I’ve done a hundred times now. Pecan. It smells a bit like pie. A pang of nostalgia drills into my chest. Not for Caldera or even pie, but for the days when I would wake up only afraid of dying in my head, not real death.
“We didn’t see anyone out looking for us,” Milo says, then stuffs half a bar in his mouth.
Kaleida snorts. “Of course not. No one in their right mind would stick around after what Ever did.”
“I don’t think theyarein their right mind,” Atom adds, once again wise beyond his years.
“Speaking of which,” Sola says, leaning into Coen and staring Eli down, “are we going to talk about your girlfriend’s dark streak? She tried to strangle the Centress—which I was fine with—and now Kaleida says she made puddles of metal out of nothing and called roots from the ground while killing hundreds of Vaile?”
“She’s my prisoner,” Eli corrects, avoiding my stare.
I stuff another bite in my mouth and chug water from the nearest canteen.
Sola scoffs. “I wouldn’t keep announcing that to everyone if I were you.”
He glares up at her, but curiosity gets the better of him. “Why not?”
Coen laughs and pulls Sola’s head back to kiss her neck. “You’ll have half the realm lining up for whatever treatment she’s getting.”
Not a hint of emotion sparks to life on Eli’s face. “She gets what she deserves.” He finally stands and stretches, twisting his torso with his arms above his head. The black marks on his back shrink and cower under the rippling of his muscles. “Nowhere is safe. And the kid is right—none of them are in their right mind. We’re going back to the Underbroke for Zandrite. We don’t leave until the fucker is dead.”
Milo paces in circles. “How’s that going to work? He’s a god.”
“So is Never,” Eli says. No explanation.
Milo nods skeptically.
“She’s a what?” Maverick J. asks, his jaw cranked open.
Coen crimps his face with skepticism. “So first she’s a Hollow. Then she’s not. Then she’s a Vaile, but not anymore. Now she’s a god? What’s next?”
The black of Eli’s eyes takes over all the color. “She’s whatever the fuck I say she is. Do not piss me off today.” He swallows tightly. “I’m out for blood.”
Coen backs off.
Sypher clears his throat quietly, looking up at Coen, nearly two heads taller than him. “I don’t think Eli ever said she was a Vaile.”
“It was implied when he told us she wasn’t a Hollow,” Coen says, shoving him.
“You’re all wrong,” I say, my mouth still full. “I’m a fucking demigod.”
Sola mutters Coen’s name as if her mind were elsewhere, and he retreats, wrapping an arm around her waist. She looks off into the distance where the teva fields are, the Underbroke below, and rubs her bandaged wrists together. “I’m not going back.”
