“That’s good news,” I say, ignoring the slight pang of embarrassment from having to ask Alistair for help. When Luca’s tension doesn’t ease, I freeze. “That’s not all, is it?”
Luca shakes his head slowly and sighs. “Ciprian was attacked last night.”
FIVE
Unspoken rule of the Fringes #111:
Supernaturals can lie; your reflection can’t.
LUCA
Celine wipes her face of all expression, and my heart sinks.
She’s taking this hard. Will she ask about him? Should I make her? The belligerent avoidance is stressful, and I’m not sure how to handle it.
“Is he alive?” Malach asks what she refuses to voice.
He’s shoveling cereal from his bowl like it’s going to run away if he takes a breath. I scratch my chin. Is the himbo angel eating Frosted Flakes? I had him pegged as a Wheaties or plain oatmeal guy... maybe porridge, whatever that is.
Remembering his question, I nod. “Alistair ran the attackers off, but Ciprian is in bad shape.”
“Alistair rescued him?” Celine scoffs and angrily bites off a hunk of plain toast. “After the way he lost his shit at the club, I would expect him to be doing the beating.”
“He was mad,” I remind her, running my fingers through myhair and wincing when they catch in a tangle. “Alistair gave him a healing potion and told him to be gone by dark.”
“If he was in bad enough shape to need a healing potion, can he do that?” Celine drops her half-eaten toast, fury sparking in her brown eyes. I can’t tell who she’s more pissed at: Ali for telling him to get lost or Ciprian for getting jumped in the first place.
“My magic found the demon worthy,” Malach says.
We both glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch, ignoring us and shoveling a massive bite of cereal into his mouth. The silence in the kitchen is interrupted only by his nonstop crunching. Fuck me. Is that bowl bottomless?
“Anyway,” I hiss. “What do you want to do, baby?”
Celine shrugs. “See if Alistair can set up a meeting for me at the Mouth of Hell. I think there’s a fight scheduled for later this week. I could try out if they want.”
Internally, I groan. She’s going to pretend I never mentioned Ciprian or the attack. I’m not sure if I should push her to talk about it or lay off.
As for the fight club, I get why she wants to train. If my dad decided to have me whacked, I would do the same, and the Mouth of Hell is about as organized as supernatural fighting gets around here. It’s also dangerous as fuck. Celine could get hurt.
Although watching her grapple with Malach was eye-opening. And hot. I’ve never seen her move like that, all controlled strikes and sensual violence. Her dirty move may have surprised Malach, but it turned me on.
My blood only returned to more useful parts of my body during my tense conversation with Ali. He spat every word at me. The calmer I was, the angrier he became. Between him and Celine, I’m not sure who’s trying harder to avoid addressing the obvious.
Thankfully, my basilisk is lying low. If Alistair had taken that tone with me another time, it could have gotten messy.
“I’ll look into it,” I tell Celine. “Is there any yogurt left?”
Her head of bright red hair disappears inside the fridge, then pops back out. She slides a cup of peach yogurt across the counter, and I smile and thank her.
“Malach.” I force myself to say his name without using a tone. He looks up, pinning me in place with his intense stare. “Do you have any reason to believe Celine’s dad will attack soon?”
He considers the question, his square jaw working rhythmically as he chews and swallows. “No. I suspect S’lach will wait until he believes he cannot fail.”
“That’s—well, it’s fucked-up,” I say. “But it’s also good news for us. Do I need to order weapons?”
I don’t know how to do that, but I’m confident I could figure it out. A few pistols would be easy to find, except gunshots are the opposite of covert, and we’ve already made enough noise by killing Roscoe outside the Fang. The last thing we need is to give the enclave another excuse to punish us.
“I will provide the steel,” Malach says, chasing the final soggy flake around the milk in his bowl, then triumphantly shoving it into his mouth.
