I glanced back at Gage. They’d covered him with a blanket and placed him on a cot in the corner of the cell. He was on his side, and although he didn’t look uncomfortable I could see the crease in his brow and the slight twitches that shook his body every half minute or so. He might be asleep, but he wasn’t resting, so neither would I.
“Is it really necessary to keep him in here? He’s obviously himself again,” I complained.
This was also a conversation we’d had more than once, so Aurelia just cast me an exasperated look rather than wasting her breath. I understood that she was responsible for all the Lumens at the compound and needed to protect them, and it changed things that Apollyon was able to force Gage to shift even when it wasn’t a full moon, but I hated seeing him locked up like this. Hadn’t he been through enough?
“I won’t force you to leave, but please at least try to rest a little,” she said, gesturing toward a metal chair behind us.
Yeah, I wouldn’t be getting any rest in that thing, but I nodded anyway to humor her. There was no reason for us both to stand vigil outside Gage’s cell, and I certainly wasn’t going to be good company for the rest of the night.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get something figured out,” she said with a small smile that I assumed was supposed to be comforting but honestly looked forced.
Nodding again, I pulled my lips back in to something that was probably closer to a grimace than a smile but was good enough that she felt okay leaving. After the door shut behind her, I flopped into the cold metal chair, wincing at how uncomfortable it was as I absently rubbed my forearm that had gotten burned from Gage’s flames. I wasn’t sure if he was going to remember what happened at the restaurant, but part of me hoped he wouldn’t. The burn had already healed, the skin was smooth and only a little pink, but I knew Gage was going to beat himself up for it when he woke up.
Another wave of anger rolled over me. If the Archangel Cael had just bestowed Lumen powers on Gage when he healed him rather than ripping his wings off, Gage would have never been bit by that hellhound. Heck, he probably would have never run from the Lumen Compound to begin with.
Gage made a noise of distress then and shifted on the cot. When he flopped on his back, the blanket slipped down to his waist and I watched a streak of black fur run down the middle of his chest before disappearing again.
Was he doing that in his sleep, or was Apollyon still trying to force him to shift?
I had no idea, and that was scary. Maybe Aurelia was right to keep him caged. There were children on campus, and the thought that Gage could hurt them made me sick.
I fidgeted in my seat, convinced I wouldn’t get any rest as I watched the rise and fall of Gage’s chest. But eventually the day’s events caught up with me and I fell into an agitated sleep.
“Tatum?” A familiar male voice pulled me from my slumber.
I jolted awake, immediately tumbling out of the chair and onto the concrete floor.
“Who? What?” I asked as I scrambled to my feet.
Reaching up, I shoved a chunk of hair out of my face and spotted Gage, awake and standing in his cell. He had a hand wrapped around one of the metal bars that separated us, and the other in a fist at his waist holding the blanket around him.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his gaze running over me from head to toe and back up again, searching for injuries.
I hadn’t even considered how my appearance would make Gage feel when he woke, and I experienced a twinge of regret for not changing out of the clothes from our date. He wouldn’t find any injuries on me. I’d already healed from the burns and bruises, but there were rips in my dress from our scuffle, and the small amount of makeup I’d put on was probably streaked across my face. I no doubt looked like I went toe-to-toe with a hellhound and lost. Even if he didn’t remember exactly what happened, waking up naked behind bars and seeing me like this was telling.
“You should see the other guy,” I said in a lame attempt at a joke as I shuffled forward with a wobbly smile.
When I got close enough, Gage reached out to me and smoothed his thumb over my cheek. Cupping his hand around my head, he drew me closer. I went willingly, taking a moment to soak him in. There was enough room between the bars that he could press a kiss to my forehead, then he rested his against mine.
“I hurt you,” he said—a statement this time, not a question—and then a tremor ran through his body.
I felt the quiver of his muscles under my hands where they were pressed against his bicep and ribs and pulled back far enough to look into his flat and hopeless eyes.
I shook my head. “No, Gage, I’m all right. I swear.”
His gaze swept me another time, catching on the tears in my clothes and my general disheveled appearance, then he pressed his lips together, clearly unconvinced.
“I scared you,” he stated, and that much was true. No matter how fast I healed, the emotional trauma of last night was still there, but I’d never admit it.
Dropping his hands from me, he stepped away and glanced around his cell. “I should never be let out of here ever again.”
I groaned. “Gage, come on. We’re not going to leave you caged.”
He snapped his head toward me, his eyes flashing green and determination written over every angle of his face. “You should. I’m dangerous. Tate, look at your dress, and are those burn marks on your arm!”
I ignored the burn mark comment. The skin was practically healed.
“You’re not dangerous.” He opened his mouth to contradict me, but I spoke over him. “You’re not dangerous tome. You had multiple chances to tear into me, rip me to shreds with your claws and teeth—”
