“Did it work?” Delani’s voice countered the chaos in my mind when I remembered she was even here.
Venay picked up on the skepticism in my expression. “I was not able to see a precise location for where the journal is. But it is inside of something that looks like a bookcase. The room looked like some sort of study maybe.” She picked up Cicily’s dagger, handing it to me. “I did discoverwherethis room is, however.”
“Where?” I asked through clenched teeth.
Venay’s eyes locked onto mine. “Draemor.”
“Is he okay?”
Pia sat at Kohen’s bedside, her nose red and raw from crying.
“He will be. One of the menders came and gave him that memory thing Venay was talking about. He just needs to sleep now.” She brushed a lock of his sweaty hair away, her gaze blatantly avoiding mine.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized under my breath. “I would have done it instead of him if I could have. If she let me?—”
She held a hand up to silence me. “Don’t. Just…don’t.”
My eyes caught on Sawyer, sitting on a padded bench in the back of the room. His elbow sat on the armrest, his head leaning into his hand. He exhaled sharply, using his free arm to pull me into his shoulder when I took the seat beside him.
“I don’t think she's too thrilled with me,” I breathed into his chest, the smell of fresh linen wafting off his shirt. “Can’t say I blame her.”
I should keep a tally of all the people who get hurt because of me. If I had a coin for each one, I could rebuild Caelestis.
Sawyer nodded into his hand. “She’ll be fine. It just scared her.”
It scared all of us.
“Now I know why Archer was so hesitant about Venay doing this.”
“Mhm.” Sawyer's head moved to rest against mine instead of his hand. “Did you get what you needed?”
I blew out a breath, hesitant to share the answer. “Yeah. It’s in Draemor. In a small bookcase in an office it seems. Don’t ask how it got there, because I have absolutely no idea.”
“You’re joking.” Sawyer was stunned, but kept his voice low enough so Pia didn’t hear. “How many fucking times are we gonna have to go to this place? We should just move there at this point.”
“Wish I was. This was all for nothing. We can’t use the journal to help Sebastian if we can’t get to the damn journal.” Tears threatened to consume me.
“An office…Beaumont’s study?” Sawyer suggested.
I scoffed. “That would be our luck, wouldn't it.”
“We will just solve two problems with one solution. Unfortunately the solution has to be going back to that shit hole,but we will get Seb out and find the journal at the same time. There still might be something useful in it—like a way to kill our target without creating a full blown war. Or something that can help us keep you safe, or explain Blythe’s bigger purpose for gifting you.”
A tear leaked free, absorbing into Sawyer’s shirt. “I guess so. But I feel horrible. Knowing what he is going through over there…We should have gone back to Draemor as soon as you guys came back, like I wanted to.” We had really waited for nothing now.
“He wouldn't have wanted that, and you know it. He would take that torment for years if it meant keeping you safe. So would I.” He cleared his throat and added, “Any of us would.”
I looked up at him, our eyes locking, the way his gaze set upon me creating an anxious flutter in my stomach. His hair was rumpled, covering his sunken eyebrows. His nostrils flared when he drew a deep breath as though he was going to say something. I thought it was a fluke—the way his eyes had lingered on my lips in his room—but they just repeated the same exact motions.
My mind jumped back to what he admitted when I compelled him the other day, and for a brief moment, I wondered what would have happened had it been him appointed my guard last year instead of Sebastian.
The thought made me sit abruptly upright, tearing myself from his embrace.
“I’m gonna go get some sleep. We should all meet in the morning and figure out when we are going to head back to Draemor.” I stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of my pants with my palms, then cleared my throat. “You know where to find me if they need anything.” I angled a thumb towards Pia and Kohen.
With a solemn nod, Sawyer returned his head to his hand.
I hurried from the room, my breathing picking up with my strides.
