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Loren slept with Darien on the couch. All the lights in Hell’s Gate were off, but there were a few enchanted candles burning on the coffee table, the rosy glow of the flames flickering against the walls.
Darien was lying on his back, Loren on top of him. Even in deep sleep, he did not let go of her, his strong arms cocooning her. And even though the path ahead of them, the path back to a normal life, felt horribly long and dark, she felt safe for the time being. This man was her love story, her future, the fulfilment of every wish her heart and mind had ever made. Until she’d met Darien, she had never believed in fate, but the way he made her feel, the way their paths had been so inexplicably entwined, had turned her into a believer.
But there was one catch to having everything you ever wanted. Once you had it, that meant you could lose it, and she would die fighting to keep this, to keep him, forever.
Tonight, she was hitting the pause button on everything. Darien needed her right here, right now, just like this. And she needed him too, perhaps even more than she’d realized.
So they stayed together on that couch all night, neither of them stirring. They held onto each other, not letting go. Not once.
—
Loren woke up shortly past six a.m. in the exact same spot on the couch.
Being careful not to wake Darien, she slowly turned her head to check on him.
He was breathing fine, his pulse that slow, steady beat that told her he was in a very deep sleep. His expression was peaceful. Innocent. Sometimes, she still found herself surprised by the sight of him dreaming like this. For someone so dangerous, he sure looked like an angel when he slept, no sign of the demons that haunted him while he was awake, no sign of the violence he turned to for help whenever he couldn’t shake those demons.
She was glad to see it. He spent too many nights lying awake from bad dreams, or even simply from the fear of having bad dreams. This was exactly the kind of rest he deserved. His face had mostly healed too, only a few shallow cuts and faded bruises to show for his fall.
For several minutes, she stayed where she was, listening to the morning doves cooing among the branches of palm trees outside, reveling in the feel of the Darkslayer’s warm, solid body under her own. The clock in the kitchen ticked, the area saturated with the fragrance of freshly brewed espresso and the honeyed croissants Tanner and Ivy fought over.
Slowly, carefully, Loren wiggled out of his grasp and stood, her low blood sugar making the room spin. As soon as the dizzy spell passed, she tiptoed to the fridge, where Mortifer was just waking up in his castle of cereal boxes.
He propped himself up on an elbow, tired red eyes blinking down at her. The black flames on his head were suffused with the deep amber glow of the rising sun streaming in through the curtains.
Loren grabbed the whiteboard and a marker off the fridge. Can Darien go with me through the tree portal? she wrote.
Mortifer shook his head.
Crap. Loren wiped the board clean with the side of her hand and wrote a new message. Why not?
Mortifer sat up, kicked his feet out in front of him, and motioned for her to pass him the board and marker. The squeak that always accompanied his writing made her glance over her shoulder at Darien, but he didn’t stir. His breathing remained quiet, his face untroubled.
Finally, Mortifer showed her his reply. Too strong, he’d written. Only you can get in.
Loren thought it through. And then she took the board and asked the Hob one last question. What about a bruise where something has already come through? Like a monster? Her hand stilled every time she nearly tripped the spell, but luckily Mortifer got her point.
He nodded and wrote two words. That’ll work.
She quietly thanked him, scrubbed the board clean, and got ready for school. By the time she was showered and dressed in jeans and a shirt, she found Tanner lying on the couch in the library, bobbing his head to a song he was listening to through headphones. In the sunroom, she heard the clink of a paintbrush swirling through a can of water. Lace was awake too. Painting to help with her own anxieties.
When Tanner spotted her, he pulled the headphones off and hooked them around his neck. “Morning.” His stare held a question—lots of questions. Maybe some accusations too.
“Good morning,” Loren said. “Can you drive me to school, please?”
The way Tanner’s eyes flicked toward the sitting room told her where his thoughts had gone. “You don’t want to wait for Darien to wake up?”
“I’m going to be late, and I still need time to get changed into my uniform. Besides, I don’t want to disturb him. He clearly needs rest.”
Tanner was frowning. “Look, I don’t like to meddle, but…he really loves you, Loren. He just got you back, and he’s going to wake up to find that you’re gone again—”
“Tanner, I know,” she interrupted softly. “I get it. And I’m going to talk to him, but this is what I need you to do for me.” She sat down on the arm of the couch. When she spoke again, she took care to keep her voice down, overly aware of the many sharp ears in this house. “When he wakes up, I need you to tell him to come to my school. He can’t text or call me, okay? He needs to come into the school and find me.”
Tanner looked very, very alarmed. “Should I be concerned?”
“Not if you do as I ask.”
