“Wake up, Celine,” Resker snaps, finally losing her calm. “They’re never fucking safe, and neither are we.”
I leave without a backward glance.
Malach isn’t home.
And I’m not handling it well.
“Where is he?” I snap at a helpless Luca. “Surely he shouldn’t still be gone.”
“I don’t know, baby.” Luca sets me carefully on the couch. He refused to let me walk up the stairs, insisting the potion needed time to work. Since I wanted his arms around me, I barely argued. My calm is in the past, though—I’m about to lose my shit.
“Something is wrong,” I tell him. “I can feel it.”
“I’ll check in with Alistair,” Luca says. “We need to warn him about the veydra, anyway.”
New worry blooms in my belly. Alistair and Ciprian have enough on their hands tonight without adding this to the mix. Unfortunately, it can’t wait. We need to tell them.
Fingers shaking, I pull up Ciprian’s contact.
Celine
I know you’re busy. I wanted to tell you to be extra careful.
Gods, that sounds stupid.
Just watch your back, Casanell.
And don’t trust any familiar faces without proof of who they are first. There’s a face shifter in the Fringes.
I groan, dropping my head against the couch.
Sending someone a string of crazy, popcorn texts is a textbook red flag. He’s going to get the wrong idea and think I’m obsessed with him or something.
So what if I let Ciprian Casanell eat me out? He’s nothing to me.Liar.He’s something—if only a bad decision—but the thought of him being hurtsends my protective instincts into overdrive. Shit, I’m spread too thin to guard them all.
We’re in too many locations, and until?—
I groan as a bone snaps into place in my heel. Bracing myself, I rotate my ankle. When I manage that without pain, I press my heel against the ground gently. The agony is gone, as if it was never there to begin with. Springing to my feet, I rock on the balls of my feet.
“Feel better?” Luca asks.
I nod. “Luca . . .”
“You want to go look for Malach. I know, baby, I’m worried too.” And he sounds it. I’m surprised at how quickly Malach became a normal part of my life on the Fringes. He shouldn’t make sense here.
I open my mouth to respond, and something heavy smacks against my front door. It’s followed immediately by a deep moan.Malach.I’m wrenching the deadbolts open one after the other before I can even think about why it might be a bad idea.
The door swings open.
Malach collapses at my feet, his face drenched in blood and sweat.
“Schmi,”he whispers, so softly I barely hear his cry for help. His thick lashes flutter and droop, cutting off my view of his green eyes—beautiful, even while glassy with pain.
My heart clenches.
Hinging at the hips, I drag him over the threshold and into the apartment.
Luca presses his fingers to Malach’s neck. “His pulse is steady.” Relief hits me so hard that I see spots. “Breathe, Celine. You can’t help him if you pass out.”
