“Arachne,” Celine says, annoyance in her voice.
I groan. “I can’t get away from bugs.”
“Lyss is a shifter, not a bug, and she could kick your ass with her eyes closed.”
I hide my smile, not wanting to get on Celine’s bad list. She’s clearly adopted this monster with no bartending skills and decided to defend her from all attacks—even good-natured ones. “She sounds like someone else I know,” I say.
Celine slides out of the booth and plants her hands on her hips. She tries to look stern, but her lips are twitching.
I point at the corner of her mouth. “It’s showing around the edges, hot wings.”
She growls and spins to leave, but not before I see a flash of her teeth as she smiles.
Like the first night I saw her, Celine’s confidence makes her impossible to ignore. So much has happened since then, but she hasn’t lost the unshakable certainty in who she is. I thank the gods for that and sit up straighter, hoping some of her energywill rub off on me.
“How are things with...” I make a bizarre gesture with a strawberry slice, then pop it into my mouth to hide my embarrassment. It’s a half-baked attempt to encompass the entirety of the shitshow, but Luca gets what I’m trying to say.
“Nothing since the attack,” he says, flexing his hands on top of the table. “I can’t help feeling like he’s charging up for something big, though.”
“Or waiting for your guard to drop,” I mutter.
“Exactly.” Luca winces. “Alistair has been gone more than he’s here—night and day. Do you happen to know anything about that?”
I frown. Part of me thought Alistair would tell them—confidentiality clause be damned. “I might be able to shed some light on that,” I say. “Let me check with someone first, though.”
Luca nods, and his hazel eyes rake over my face.
“What?” I ask. “Do I have strawberry seeds in my teeth?” I take a sip of my drink to cover my nerves.
“You look good, Ciprian,” Luca says. “Like you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a few weeks, but it works for you.”
I blink, fighting the sudden urge to slump against him and find out if he’s as solid as he seems. I resist the urge. “Things are hard at home,” I admit.
Luca sits up straighter in the booth and braces one elbow on the table. “Are you in danger?”
“Worse,” I sigh. “People I love are.”
“Fuck, man, I’m sorry.” He glances down the hall in the direction Celine disappeared. “So you’re here on enclave business. I guess I thought...”
“What did you think?” I don’t bother to correct his assumption and clear my throat. It’s bone dry; despite the two drinks I’ve polished off.
“Nothing.” Luca pats my thigh before he stands. “I thought you might be back for unfinished personal business. It’s good tosee you, Ciprian.” He ambles away, disappearing behind the bar before I can think of a damn thing to say in response.
The Mouth of Hell is packed. Like, half a dozen people might be crushed to death before the night is over, packed.
Shoulder to shoulder, Luca, Malach, and I push toward the cage. My ribcage is black and blue by the time we make it there. I rub my side and wince. “And I thought the fight was going to happen up there.”
“If we’d gotten here earlier, it would have been easier,” Luca says. “But Celine is a headliner now.”
“Make some noise for Tusker,” the emcee roars.
I snort. “Is he for real with that?” I caught some of Celine’s early matches, but I never paid much attention to the other fighters.
“Oh yeah,” Luca says. “You’ll love this.”
Malach nods at me, his green eyes dripping with sincerity. They’re both right. Watching Tusker fight the startled witch is hilarious. The shifter has a flair for showmanship. I don’t know if I want to laugh or cheer when he ends the match by kicking his opponent in the balls with a hoof-sized pig foot.
“What is he?” I mutter.
