Groaning, I push Ciprian from my mind, park my car, and get out. Immediately, the scent of fresh blood sinks into my nose.Malach. I’ve smelled his blood before—on the apartment windowsill and after he was burned during the angel attack—but this is worse. Much worse.
I’m running before I can consider the risk, taking the stairs three at a time. If Malach is hurt—the giant war machine that he is—then Celine and Luca...
No, don’t go there, Ali.
The door is streaked with blood. It looks solid enough, but they came in through the window last time. Did I even glance at it as I was driving up? Would I have noticed if something was wrong? My distraction is a problem. I used to notice everything.
Heart racing a million miles an hour, I snarl and brace myself to break the door down.
“Who’s there?” Luca demands, and I hear scuffling.
I groan, planting my hands on my knees as I catch my breath. “It’s me. Let me in.”
I wait for the door to open, but it doesn’t. Instead, I hear only whispers.
“Tell me what you’re allergic to,” Luca says. His voice is wary.
“Tomatoes . . . Are you okay?”
I sag with relief as the door opens to Luca’s grim face. I step inside, and he closes the door behind me quickly, locking it in jerky, efficient movements. Celine is slumped on the arm of the couch, a sword clasped in her fingers. She’s guardingan unconscious Malach.
“Tell me what happened,” I say as gently as I can.
“Dad sent a new assassin.” She scrubs her free hand through her hair, wincing when her nails catch on her disheveled braids. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen her with a hair out of place. Her beautiful, striking, red?—
My stomach churns. “Angel, I wouldn’t ask you this if it weren’t important, but can you tell me what your father looks like?”
“Godsdammit!” Celine’s fingers clench around the hilt of the sword as she snaps to attention. “You saw him, didn’t you?”
I nod slowly. “I think so.”That’s why he seemed familiar.
Luca frowns. “I don’t get it. How would you know?”
“Because I look just like him,” Celine snarls. “Hair, eyes, even my fucking nose.” She thumps the bridge angrily, a furious scowl contorting her pretty face.
“He was watching me,” I tell her. “From the shadows outside the auction...”
She pushes off the arm of the couch, dropping the sword to reach for me. “Did he try to hurt you?”
I shake my head. “He smiled. And winked.”
“Creepy shuck,” Luca mutters.
I tilt my head as they exchange glances. “What aren’t you saying?”
“I don’t think you saw my actual father,” Celine admits. “I think you saw the veydra he hired to come after me. It wore his face earlier... after we fought at the Mouth of Hell.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I hold up a hand. “Your father’s new assassin is a face shifter who signed up to fightyou in the cage?”
She grinds her teeth. “He got a kick out of fucking with me too.”
I look at Luca. “That’s why you asked about my allergy. You were worried he was pretending to be me.”
He bobs his head. “We’ll need to verify identity every time we’ve been apart. It’s annoying, but it’s the only way to make sure he doesn’t sneak into Celine’s bed and kill us all when we least expect it.”
On the couch, Malach groans.
“What happened to him?” I push the infuriating image of an assassin sneaking into Celine’s bed from my mind.
