‘My love’?Had she ever said that before? He couldn’t remember, but he didn’t think so.
It sat awkwardly in the air between them, like it didn’t fit. Like he should’ve said it first, and hadn’t.
He’d waited too long. The moment passed.
“Thank you,” he said instead. It wasn’t too late for that.
“Of course.” Her eyes searched his face. “I’m only sorry we couldn’t get there sooner.”
“Howdidyou get there?”
“Dive suits. We stole some and took a boat.” Cally waved it off like it didn’t matter, taking a pace toward him. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. Famished. But you fed me already, right?”
“Yes, a little.” A flicker of a smile. “From my wrist. Sorry.”
Antoine missed the humor in that, and her smile faded. “How long has it been?”
“Three weeks today. Tomorrow’s Halloween.”
“Is it?” He frowned. “Wait. Three weeks? What about your power?”
“Oh, um.” She dropped her gaze, then lifted it back to his, her words quiet. “Gabe fed on me.”
The rage that flushed through him was icy and visceral. His fists clenched, vision tunneled. His pulse pounded in his head, and his jaw tightened enough to ache.
Cally flinched back a step, a flicker of unease in her eyes. The sight cut through the haze, pulling him up short.
But it was still a long moment before he could speak. “Of course he did.”
“I’m sorry, it’s…” She raised a hand, then let it fall. “There wasn’t much choice.”
“Of course he didn’t give you a choice. I’ll kill him for you.”Gabriel. Tobias. Nico. Roberto.The order didn’t much matter.
Her eyes widened in naked alarm. “No, Antoine. It wasn’t like that; I asked him to. He didn’t want to. I had to explain about… well, everything.” She took a step toward him, a hand raised in placation. “We never would’ve got you out without him.”
Antoine barked a dry laugh. “Really? He was the one who goddamn volunteered to put me there.”
Cally frowned. “He came to me the same day. He was here when I awoke, after you’d left. His thralls did all the work to get you back. I went down with Brent. I found you, but he was the one who got you out. Gabe’s ship, Gabe’s thralls, Gabe’s resources.” Another pace, and now she was almost in reach. “Do you remember anything?”
He didn’t. Nothing beyond floating in that damn box, until he awoke in his own bed.
“Where is he?”
“At his home, I assume. He’s not here.”
Of course he wasn’t. He was hiding.
That was wise. If he’d been here, Antoine would’ve killed him.
And now Cally was claiming he didn’t deserve to die. After so long fixating on that very goal, its removal felt… cheap. Like he’d been robbed. It wasn’t earned, yet.
No, he was wrong. Cally had made it clear; whatever role Gabe had played in his entombment, he’d more than reversed it with his help. Antoine was free now, the punishment of the Curiacomplete. He shook his head, turning away from her. It was too confusing, and his mind was…Still locked in that damn box.
He crossed to the windows and stared out over the garden. Peaceful, dark, quiet. Dry. Perhaps he would take up gardening. “What were you reading, when I came in?”
“What? Oh. The Count of Monte Cristo.” A pause. “In English. My French isn’t up to it. Eve got me a copy. She’s in the kitchen I think.” A mutteredlike he wants to know, but Antoine heard her clearly. “You said you were hungry. Do you want to feed?”
