I didn’t blame them. Caliban had that effect.
I was fuzzy. I was happy. I was whole.
Seeing him was like taking MDMA straight to the vein. I was calm and excited and in love all at once. I was happy and dizzy and somehow inexplicably miserable. My stomach churned. I’d never get over the butterflies when he looked at me, nor would I get past the same three words that never grew old.
He was real, he was real, he wasreal.
Silas remained planted in front of the arched, wooden church door like a bouncer at the world’s strangest club.
The world fell away as I said, “You’re finally here.”
“I couldn’t get back fast enough,” Caliban replied. “I’ve spent years glued to your side, and now that you need me the most—”
My chuckle was light but genuine. Even the worst news was a crackle of love and light on my tongue when speaking with him. “The realms are at stake. Believe me, I get it.”
“I sensed you were about to leave, and I had to say goodbye.”
I didn’t feel the need to ask how or why we were bonded, and that was all there was to it.
Caliban guided me away from the protective glare of our bouncer, steering us back into the sanctuary. With the witches in their various annexes and my friends in the atrium, our best shot at privacy was in the open, echoing hall.
My heart was not unlike that of a hummingbird, though I couldn’t explain why. I’d been alone with him countless times. I’d loved him. I’d fucked him. I’d fought for him. But after our fight and in light of all that had been revealed, I had no way of knowing what had or hadn’t changed.
Maybe the unease was the sense memory of my years in church. Maybe it was being on stage with a demon. Maybe it was standing before the pulpit, not for confession, but for rebellion.
I struggled to look into his too-beautiful eyes as we moved. He stopped us at the front, under the shadow of the cross. He planted a hand on the wooden pulpit. The motion forced my back against the religious symbol. Taut excitement throbbed between us as I squinted into the sunlight. Caliban took a step, blocking the light from the window so I could look into his face.
“You reek of Heaven,” he said, running a finger along my jaw.
I suppressed the knee-jerk desire to apologize. I’d chosen to go with Silas. I couldn’t regret whatever spices or myrrh stained my skin as a result of my stance against Fauna and everyone who’d facilitated her manipulation.
“He isn’t with Heaven anymore,” I said quietly, but my words were unconvincing.
“He is until he falls,” Caliban said. His elbow bent ever so slightly, allowing him to invade my space. Our chests were almost touching. Cool air rolled off of him, alleviating much of the prickly sacrilege I felt from the pulpit. “And you?” he said. “Who are you with?”
I swallowed, shaking my head. I wanted to tell him that I was with him, but I couldn’t promise that was true. Thetestimony caught in my throat, snagged between the betrayal I still felt, the lore that thrust him and me into a sticky web, and the cycles of manipulation and coercion at the hands of so many others, all hoping that I might facilitate the end of the world without my knowledge or consent.
“Fenrir,” I said, mouth dry. It was the only name I knew I’d come by honestly. He’d been given no forewarning as to who I was or what role I played. We’d made an arrangement based solely on the vision we’d shared. Whether or not his compliance was tied to Fauna’s, I couldn’t know. I said, “I’m with the apocalypse dog.”
I dipped beneath Caliban’s arm to grab the last remaining bottle of wine. The seven-dollar twist-off might not do much for the nervous cotton on my tongue, but I needed something in my mouth. I took a swig.
He chuckled lightly. “Fenrir is worthy of loyalty. I don’t suppose there’s anything I might do to tilt the scales in my favor?” His fingers brushed over my cheek, running along my jaw, cupping the side of my face with that soothing, chilling effect. I savored the shiver that snaked through me. He seemed to appreciate it as well, drinking his fill as my body responded to the pleasure of his touch.
“We’re going to meet Alessia Clovis,” I said for lack of anything better to fill the silence. If I refrained from speaking for much longer, I knew he’d kiss me, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I took another long swig.
“Excellent.”
I allowed my gathered brows to do the talking.
“She’s a formidable ally,” he elaborated, “and I’ve never known anyone more primed to see the gods fall. It’ll be better not to have us around, but I don’t want you to go in unguarded. Would you consider allowing Fauna—”
“No.” I bit off his sentence, chewing it up and spitting it out. “Two witches are coming with us for warding. They’re women, so they’ll be allowed where Az and Silas aren’t. I don’t needher.”
He closed his eyes, frosted lashes obscuring whatever guarded emotion he felt. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, attempting unsuccessfully to free his hand from my hair. There was too much at stake to let myself unravel. I was avoiding the inevitable, desperate to hold it together.
Instead, he let his hand gravitate south of my ear, cupping the side of my neck.
“I understand, Love, but—”
