Kali’s eyebrows pinched. “Go where?”
The throng thinned behind her as people scattered into the five exits, delving deeper into the catacombs. How they continuously chose to stay in the city and not flee was beyond me. Especially when Ilasall dictated the structure of your days, controlled your food intake, and prohibited any proclivities not in accordance with their standards.
Dull.
Too dull.
Life in any one of the three cities was too subdued for my tastes.
“I have a surprise for you.” I tugged a strand of Kali’s silky hair, coaxing her to follow Rowan weaving through the crowd toward the furthermost tunnel.
“Another one?” Her frown deepened. “Please tell me it’s not someone we know.”
“It’s not,” I told her as we twisted to avoid a collision with a couple. The man boasting a pale-blue button-up shirt gaped at me, his partner forgotten.
Yes, this one was aware of my reputation. And how I chose to relax whenever Ilasall stretched my nerves to their splitting point.
Kali hissed, “You swear it’s not a person?”
Her and the need for promises. Although they usually meant nothing to me, I’d vowed to myself not to break any given to her. At any cost whatsoever. She deserved so much more, but if a promise was what she wished for, a promise it would be.
Just of a different kind.
“Trust me, you will like it,” I said, using my flashlight to keep Rowan in sight as he turned a corner.
The tunnel narrowed, the walls closing in, squeezing us to form a line. Darkness swirled along the edges of the path known only by our red-cheeked guide.
Kali slowed. “Zion.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not moving from this spot until you swear to me?—”
“I swear it, as I swear that I’ll hear you call out my name more than once tonight.”
Seeking to convince myself she was still here, I caught her waist. Her blurry shape swaying before me had failed to serve as sufficient proof of her existence.
But the chill seeping from the supple leather of her jacket and into my pores steadied my pulse.
She was here, with me.
I could feel it.
Her body heat, the sweet perfume wafting off her hair, the tickle of her strands on my nose, the whisper-quiet curses that followed?—
“I can’t move like this, Zion,” she groused, and I tightened my hold. Her sigh caressed my eardrums. “I don’t know why I deal with you.”
The passage widened, the limestone floor sickly damp, and I moved to her side. “Because I’m perfection.” I tapped her nose. “Like you.”
She rubbed the spot, much to my delight. “Perfection, my ass.”
“That too.” Taking her wrist, I slapped her palm on my backside, adding a wiggle to my gait. “Here. Feel it for yourself.”
Her snort reverberated in the tunnel.
Pulling on the collar of his shirt, Rowan scowled at us over his shoulder. Dampness ruled this deep underneath the city, so mighty, it glued your clothes to you.
“We’re almost there.” He gestured toward another left turn, unmarked. Unless you had memorized the underground labyrinth, it could easily claim you as its next victim. Another skeleton to add to its collection.
