I turn around. “I need help with the ties in the back.”
Bes’s measured steps echo inside my ears as he moves in behind me. Standing less than a foot away, I’m more acutely aware of him than I ever have before. My hands practically tingle from his nearness.
Without a word, he grabs the ties at their root, near my waist. Breathing in shallow, trembling breaths, I concentrate on every single movement: the way he grasps the ties, how he loops the fabric across first, the feeling of the silk shifting along my body. Finally, I suck in a breath as he pulls them tight and finishes tying it off into a bow. The thicker fabric compresses my ribs; luckily, the amulet hangs just below the ties.
That’s alright, I never much cared for breathing anyway.
I start to turn back around—when he steps closer, our bodies nearly touching.Oh.Before I can ask what he’s doing, he brushes the tips of his fingers along the back of my neck. I gasp softly as what I can only describe as a soft electrical current races down my spine and turns my body to liquid. The only reason I know I’m breathing at all is due to my ribs and stomach pressing against the girdle, and the slight rise and fall of my half-exposed chest.
“Your hair,” he explains in a deep, low voice, pushing the errant strands over my shoulder. They’ll move again on their own in a moment, but the fact that he noticed at all…
Cec clears his throat. “Since neither of you have bothered to answer my question, I take it our Hawkins has transformed and we’re gawking in pleasant awe, yes?”
Bes steps back and I glance over my shoulder at Cec. He sends a look of wonder in my general direction.
I can’t help laughing, lessening the tension in my shoulders.
Bes bumps Cec’s cane with the heel of his left shoe. “Best crack on, or we’ll be late.”
Cec holds up a hand. “Wait, I haven’t sufficiently gawked yet.”
He squints, continuing to focus in my direction. Laughter sticking in my throat, I grab my switchblade from where I left it beside my clothes. Gliding over to him, I thread my arm through his. Meanwhile, Bes heads for the front of the shop.
I lean into Cec. “Come on, Casanova, let’s get out of here.” I hand him my switchblade. “You can even keep this safe for the night.”
Cec’s smile is warm, genuine as he slips it into his pocket. “As you command, milady.”
I already feel naked without it on me. But I’ll endure it.
Bes holds the front door open for us. He watches me intently through the rims of his glasses, his expression pained. Bes must believe those thin pieces of glass hide his emotions from people. For me at least, they tend to amplify them.
Before I can read him fully, however, he pushes the bridge of them back up his nose and into place.
Once we’re outside, Bes stalks off into the night, pulling his shoulders up near his ears. Giving the wooden door of the store one last look, I catch up to him quickly, dragging Cec along with me.
Now we’ve moved into the main square, I expect it to be abuzz with nightlife. Somehow, it’s quieter than it was during the day.
“Cheer up, Bes,” I murmur, wincing when my voice echoes slightly along the cobblestone beside our footfalls. “You look like you’re ready to throw in the towel and we’re not even at the club.”
“I’m not worried about the bloody club,” he says distractedly, matching my tone. “There’s a greater chance we might not even make it there. If what Francesca says is true, about her proverbial Guardiani Notturni, then we need to be very careful.”
As if we haven’t been careful up to this point.I don’t press him, though, not when he’s likely to burst from this bout of hysteria.
None pass us as we stride down a maze of alleyways and widened streets, keeping to the shadows as much as possible without raising suspicions. The night has come alive around us—in it, I find shadows lurking around every corner and alcove.Strange sounds reverberate off the old buildings. I keep my eyes on the street ahead so I don’t look for the source of every single one of them.
Cec doesn’t even attempt to carry on a hushed conversation with me. That worries me more than anything else.
I’m not afraid, exactly, but Iamacutely aware of my surroundings. Of the Amulet of Amun strapped to my back. I attempt to track the streets we pass, but it’s nearly impossible to tell them apart. I’m also distracted imagining Blackshirts and God Men hiding in wait behind each darkened storefront, the moment Bes and I had in the costume shop completely forgotten.
As if on cue, the faraway sound of uniformed footsteps echoes at our backs. When I glance behind us, though, no one’s there.Not yet, anyway.
“Here, quickly.” Bes pivots on his heel sharply, leading Cec and I into a shallow alley, where the only cover is a pile of empty crates stacked precariously in the corner beside a back door. Searching for an opening behind them, Bes helps Cec inside as hastily and quietly as possible, then squeezes through himself.
Crouching down, I look toward the street, listening to the footsteps draw nearer. They’re so close my palms dampen with sweat.
The fear of what these ordinary men given extraordinary power could do to someone like me, or Bes, or Cec, sits heavy in my stomach. I’m not easily frightened, but Francesca’s anxiousness has taken root in my mind and made me paranoid.Better paranoid than dead.
By the time they reach the alley, I’m tucked safely inside the makeshift hideaway. There’s not much room and my right side is forced to be flush with Bes’s. His presence comforts me, though. I place a hand over my mouth to quiet my breathing and Bes gently grasps my arm, his hand warm on my exposed skin.Our eyes meet and something unsaid—unthought, even—passes between us.
