A reminder of Sidra.And every reason why this was a dangerous game to be playing.
It was like being doused with a bucket of water.The spell was broken in a heartbeat.Khalida stared at Talik.Every other thought was encased in ice.“We leave in five.”
Talik pulled a shirt identical to hers over his head.The matte black ring on his pinkie held her attention for a second before she shook her head, silently berating herself.
He grabbed his utility belt and put on his combat boots.
Khalida needed to get out of the room.She blamed the memories that seeing the swords had unearthed and then Talik for her behavior.
Boundaries, she repeated silently over again.
“I will wait for you downstairs.”It was what she should have done to start off with.She walked to the door slowly, not wanting to show how affected she was.
“Did you get the knives?”
Khalida stopped mid-stride.They were from Talik.At no point would she have thought he would leave her a gift, especially her favorite kind.Weapons.
It didn’t matter who gave them to her—as long as they did what they were supposed to.Help her kill their targets.
“Yes.”She closed the door behind her before she could stupidly say anything more.
Chapter Seventeen
TALIK
Talik cast a furtiveglance at Khalida.
She continued to stare straight ahead and had barely spoken on the ride from the villa to the library.He leaned against the soft black leather seats, legs stretched out, as he watched the world go by through the dark-tinted windows.The unmarked vehicle sped quietly through the streets of Rome, bypassing cameras and CCTV.It had only been a ten-minute car ride, but the icy silence was enough to put him on edge.Khalida sat unnaturally still, taking up almost no room, as if sharing the car was more than her sensibilities could handle.A wall of ice surrounded her, and no matter how much he wanted to chip at it, there was no end in sight.
They stopped at the front of the old library.There were a hundred thoughts that should have been going through his mind about what they were about to embark on.Instead, all he could focus on was Khalida and how she had looked in his room—beautiful and deadly.It was a combination he could never walk past.At some point, Khalida had imprinted herself onto him, and it wasn’t only the consort mark—there was a small part of her that had buried itself within him.
He had scented the change in her demeanor as soon as she noticed him walk out of the bathroom.The heat of the room had gone up a hundred-fold, and he’d nearly walked back to take a cold shower and matters into his own hand.The lovers he’d taken, no matter their gender, had never filled the ache that Khalida had left him with.Even after all these centuries, Khalida was the only one who had the power to make him forget and want something that was forever beyond his reach.Talik would gladly worship her if it meant condemning him to centuries of damnation.He would take a taste of heaven if it meant living in hell for the rest of his life.But he was no longer in a position where it was a choice.He had decided to walk away—he had thought it was the most altruistic thing he could do.There was no amount of wishing or hoping Sidra hadn’t died as a result of her inherited human genetics that would change things.He would forever be at fault.He hadn’t wanted to be the reason Khalida was reminded of their daughter’s death on a daily basis.
Talik opened the door, holding it for Khalida as he waited on the quiet sidewalk.Despite his Atlantean lifespan, there were a handful of customs and rituals he maintained from his human childhood.Parts of himself that he had never adapted to the Atlantean way.And the notion of a heaven and hell had never been wiped from his conscience.Particularly when the Atlanteans had no direct comparison.
He holstered his blasters as Khalida walked past him, her head held up high.The driver, one of Dante’s, nodded before silently taking off into the rising traffic.
