Celine drops to her knees beside the fae and uses her bare hands to smother the last of the flames on his pants leg. Her wings droop, and their fire goes out suddenly. Pure white, the feathers are delicate and untouched. If it weren’t for the burning in my throat and Thorn’s charred clothes, it would be easy to think they were never on fire to begin with.
The bell rings and signals the end of the fight.
Celine stands on wobbly legs.
The emcee is talking. I see his lips moving, but I can’t hear anything over the possessive roaring in my ears. He lifts Celine’s clenched fist high, and I realize the sound in my head is real—the audience is that loud.
They’re obsessed with her. Absolutely wild about my girl. With soot on her cheek, half a dozen magical burns on her arms, and raw determination carved into her face, she’s never looked so dangerous. Or so hot. She looks like mine.
Celine leaves the cage through the same tunnel she entered from, and I shoulder my way through the crowd. I don’t know where I’m going—all I know is that I need to find her. Now.
TWELVE
Unspoken rule of the Fringes #299:
Desire is control.
CELINE
I stumble down the squat tunnel connecting the cage to the locker room with shaking hands. The sting on my palms from putting the fire out keeps me grounded. Barely.
I nearly cooked Thorn. And as soon as my flames transferred from my wings to his clothes, I could have cooked myself too. Gods, I never meant for it to go that far, but beating him fair and square feels amazing.
His magic attacks hurt. Lightning replacing the blood in my veins, they seared my nerves and raised the stakes. In the cage, I wasn’t Verity competing in an underground supernatural match; I was Celine fighting for my life.
A dull glow illuminates the bottom of the tunnel, and I can’t tell if it’s another charm or a basic strip light. Either way, it gives me enough light to navigate the tunnel. The exit is only a few steps ahead, bright and—blocked by a shadowy figure.
I freeze and raise my trembling fists.
“It’s just me,” Lyss says. “Are you okay?”
I wince. There’s a new wariness in her voice. I don’t want her to fear me... but maybe it’s for the best. I’m not exactly doing a great job protecting the friends I already have. I miss hanging out with Imani. I miss getting drinks with Brandy, Ada, and the girls. Keeping them at arm’s length is necessary, but I didn’t expect it to be this hard.
I nod, not trusting my voice yet. The prickling pain from Thorn’s magic is still running through my body. From the weave of the sweaty socks hugging my feet to the light at the end of the tunnel—I’m hyper-aware of every sensation.
“Good,” Lyss says, walking toward me slowly. She stops in front of me, about halfway through the tunnel. “I’m going to scoot around you if that’s okay.”
That’s when I realize I’m blocking her way; fists raised like a maniac. I drop them and clear my throat. “Of course. Sorry, I... Good luck, Lyss.”
The signature gap-toothed grin stretches across her face. “That’s The Recluse to you.” She lifts my right fist and bumps it against her own.
“Knock him dead,” I say, digging deep for a smile. “Or at least unconscious.”
Lyss squares her shoulders and raises her chin, and I see the spider staring back at me. “On it,” she says.
Sagging against the curved wall of the tunnel, I let her pass, watching until the emcee calls her name and she steps through the magic film disguising the tunnel’s opening.
A muffled argument echoes from the other end of the tunnel.
I whip my head around and squint, wishing I had stronger night vision, or a godsdamned flashlight or something. If I’m about to get jumped in a glorified tube, I’d rather see whose ass I’m beating.
Another shadow blocks the opening, broad shoulders eclipsing the light.
For a heartbeat, the shadow doesn’t move, then it explodes into action, shooting toward me with determined strides.
“I will fuck—” I suck in a breath when the shadow reaches me, and I recognize Luca’s familiar chiseled jaw.
“Perfect,” he growls. “Fuck me raw. Fuck me sideways. Fuck me up. Whatever the fuck you want, baby.” Then his lips are on mine, harsh, demanding, crazed. I grab his hair roughly, desperate for him to match the heat roaring through my veins.
