“Deep breaths.”
Saga stopped herself and took a long inhale and exhale. Then again. “Yeah, okay.”
“Everything isfine,” assured Avery. “We will figure this out together, and in the meantime, we are going to catch a murderer.”
“Yeah,” Saga nodded again then stopped. Her eyes widened. “Oh… Oh no. No, no, no. Avery, everything isnotfine. What am I doing here? I’m not a detective. It’s one thing to be drinking tea and poring over files with you, it is entirely another to be standing in the lobby of a suspected killer’s home.”
“Saga,” Avery let her name whisper past her lips, grounding magic interlaced with each syllable. “You don’t have to know what you’re doing. I know. I will be right here at your side. You will be safe. And when the council finally pays me after this is over, I will buy you dinner.”
Saga’s fingers anxiously drummed her fingers against her thigh. “You promise?”
“I swear.”
“No sneaky ‘by the letter, not the spirit’ workarounds?”
“Nothing sneaky, nothing underhanded, nothing unspoken.” Avery gently gripped Saga’s shoulders reassuringly. “You will be safe. I am going to ask all the questions. All right?”
Saga took a moment to swallow this information. A few deep breaths, her eyes in a soft focus, and then she was back to the present. “Right as rain.”
“Good.” Avery released her and straightened upright. “I have a feeling it’s going to beyourname the concierge will need.”
Saga smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…” She took a moment to remove her coat and sling it over her arm before smoothing down her dress. Her fingertips lightly brushed over her fringe, making sure it fell over her forehead properly. “How do I look?”
Beauty was a strange thing in Avery’s eye. Treated as such a rare commodity, and yet she found it delightfully abundant if one knew where to look. With Saga one had many options. They would find it in her smile, or the faint wisps of gold in her eyes. They could observe it in the slope of her neck or the dip in her clavicle—the way she deliberately chose her clothing or styled her hair. There was beauty in her melody and the words she chose. She was both carefully crafted in some ways and naturally a masterpiece in others. To speak plainly would be something akin to insult and so she answered art with art. “Shall I compare you to a summer’s day?”
Saga nearly broke into a grin before she pressed her lips together to suppress it to a modest smile. Her gaze averted and her shoulders raised. She was pleased by this. She cleared her throat and led the way to the concierge. “Good evening. My name is Saga Trygg, I believe Mr. Goff is expecting us.”
The concierge took a moment to look something up before stating plainly. “Ionlyhave your name, ma’am.”
“Oh.” Saga took Avery’s arm in her own and hugged her close. “She’sa surprise.”
Without warning, Avery felt those soft lips press gently against her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth brushing against her ear. Her breathcaught, and a strange sensation reverberated over her skin. Even after Saga pulled away, Avery could still feel the impact throbbing as if she’d created a new heartbeat where she’d kissed.
Somewhere in her consciousness, she heard Saga’s voice make a “shh” sound followed by a delicate laugh and a conspiratorial “You understand.”
“Very good, ma’am. Right on through. Give this to the liftman.”
Avery felt as if she’d just pushed herself above water, her awareness sharpening in time to see the concierge hand Saga a strange card.
“Thank you,” Saga purred and tightened her embrace around Avery’s arm as the two walked down the hall toward the elevator.
“Quick thinking,” Avery breathed, still struggling to orient herself with her surroundings as if she’d been transported somehow. Heart palpitations rattled through her rib cage.
“Sorry,” Saga whispered. “Did I overstep?”
Avery could not even begin to marry that question with what she was feeling. Was that what this was? “Uh…n-no. That. Worked out well.” Her throat tight, she coughed lightly to clear it. “Good cover.”
The two entered the lift and Saga handed the man the card that would grant access to the penthouse apartment.
Avery felt far too aware of Saga’s body heat while standing next to her; a comforting flame of life. Her pulse was still quick—could Saga feel that through their interlocked arms? She took a deep breath and scanned the elevator. Gaudy and garish. Too much gold and mirrors. If a baroque frame could craft a room, it would have looked something like that lift.
The doors opened into a smaller lobby. It was tastefully done, but simple, and the contrast made it seem sparse by comparison.
The two stepped out and approached the large oak double doors of Elis’s apartment.
Avery raised a hand to knock.
“Wait.” Saga’s grip on Avery’s arm tightened. “Just wait.” She swallowed. There was a slight tremble to her form and a shudder to her breath. Barely audible, she whispered a reassuring, “okay” to herself. “Brigid tend yourflame.” She took a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then released it slowly. “Okay.”
