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Kade agreed, and they headed back to Callum, his questions as tiresome as the rain.
Chapter Twenty
Evelyn
After seeing Fiona Kerry’s body, they headed straight to Evelyn’s apartment. At present, Cyrus showered in her bathroom, the sound of the running faucet making it quite difficult not to imagine him unclothed under the scalding water. What did his torso look like beneath his tunic . . .? Heat spread through Evelyn’s belly and across her cheeks. She became hotter than the fireplace, her toes curling in a pair of fuzzy socks.
Evelyn poured herself a glass of honeysuckle wine, her first gulp audible throughout the apartment. The alcohol did nothing to drive away her thoughts. It only made her belly warm like Cyrus’s stares did.
Fucking flames.
Distracting herself further, she prepared some cheese, crackers, fruit, and bread for a humble dinner after their long travels in the rain. Aster was to join them shortly, and she hoped to pull herself together before then.
Evelyn bit her lip, staring into the hearth of dancing flame.
The truth was that Evelyn wasn’t just physically attracted to Cyrus. In this partnership, they felt like equals. He respected her assessment of the murders, accepted her ideas. Neither of them led the other. They were a team. As Daughter of the Goddess, she’d experienced respect for her title from plenty of people, but they expected so much from her at the same time.
Cyrus didn’t.
She’d not only heard his sincerity when they discussed her parents but felt it. Back home, some had told her they were sorry for her loss. No one understood it. Cyrus did.
Except she was telling him things he didn’t need to know, and Evelyn hated how natural it felt to be honest with him. The words flowed from her, previous hope of working with him as partners be damned. After all, the beast of a man was taking a shower in her apartment for Goddess’s sake. It’d taken one comment about missing running water, and Evelyn had offered.
Why?
Maxie bumped into Evelyn’s ankle, and she gave her familiar a loving scratch behind the ear. After a few more bumps, Evelyn sighed and squatted down to dig into Maxie’s cheeks the way she loved. Her familiar shut her eyes, and Evelyn recognized that look.
Trust.
Goddess, she was beginning to trust Cyrus. It was dangerous and illuminating, and Evelyn wanted to run from it and into it. It made no sense, her ease opening up to him, why she revealed what she did, and her treacherous traitor of a familiar was open to trusting him, too.
The faucet turned off, the sound replaced by the unrelenting patter of rain outside. Maxie abandoned Evelyn and ran to the bathroom door, awaiting Cyrus. Her familiar had never been so keen with anyone else before, not even her sister Blair or Tovi, whom she’d been around the most.
Worry grew in the pit of Evelyn’s stomach. She and Maxie were bound, based on the connection to her magic, and she wondered if her growing feelings for Cyrus had anything to do with Maxie’s behavior. What if Maxie’s affection meant something? What if this attraction to Cyrus was more than she thought?
But Evelyn couldn’t afford more. Not when she needed to solve these murders and leave. Entertaining a relationship with Cyrus felt like dragging him into a mess he didn’t deserve. For one, if witches and werewolves from Sorin ever caught up to her, what sort of future could she promise? And if they did explore a future together, wouldn’t she put him at risk? Sure, her flame was back, but if she lost it again and the vampyrs discovered she no longer had the Goddess-given gift they feared, she put those in her homeland at risk for war, and in turn, Cyrus.
Evelyn’s heart ached, but leaving was best. Staying on the move. New place to new place. Yet leaving was getting harder and harder. Callum would be the most difficult since leaving her sisters. The kind people. The quaint town. The magical countryside. She couldn’t throw in feelings and the memory of an amber-eyed stare. Her bruised heart couldn’t handle it.
Cyrus emerged from the bathroom, steam following him into the main room. He tugged his tunic down, and Evelyn caught sight of the deep line of muscle leading into his trousers—
“I haven’t had a shower in some time,” he said. “I may pay you coin to use it from here on out.”
Evelyn popped a grape and slab of cheese into her mouth, making it impossible to comment. Thankfully a knock at the door also helped her evade the conversation.
Aster entered from the rain before Evelyn made it to the door, a stack of books in one hand and a growler of wine with a parchment bag in the other.
“Damn dandelions, Saige. I love the rain, but some days it doesn’t seem to stop.” The stack of books with spines of greens, oranges, and browns obscured her face.
Cyrus took two steps to join them and grabbed the books before they toppled to the wooden floor. Aster pushed back her hood, her red curls springing free. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of Cyrus. A shriek of excitement erupted from her, and she launched at him. Unprepared, he rocked with surprise and staggered, the books crashing to the floor regardless of his efforts. Aster held on, giving him a welcoming hug. He sent Evelyn a look, but she laughed with a snort, enjoying his discomfort.
His eyes narrowed as if to say, Help me.
“Cyrus,” Evelyn said, “meet Aster, Callum’s finest book and plant expert, shop owner, landlord, and friend.”
Aster released Cyrus, blushing a fierce crimson as she continued to stare with her large russet eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Aster,” Cyrus said, straightening his tunic and bending over to pick up the books.
