“No need to feign modesty now, old boy.”
“Seriously.” I roll my eyes playfully. “Aren’t we past that?”
Orfeoisa powerful vampire. He had gotten really good at concealing his abilities from Alfo and Leo and Nis, but now there’s no reason for him to hide his cunning intellect and elemental mastery. And sure, the bartenders and dancers gossip about our blood bond. They could talk all they wanted; it’s obvious to us all now how Orfeo had survived those merciless early years of his vampire life.
“Anyway.” He waves Bowen on. “Why a kidnapping? Why subject his daughter to yet another game?”
“The gods are ancient! They have theirmodus operandi.”Bowen leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his belly.“You’re nearly immortal, aren’t you? Do you think you’ll be open to trying new things in two thousand years?”
Orfeo pulls his hand away from my thigh and rubs at his jaw. “No,” he says slowly, carefully. “I don’t think I will be. I will only grow more calcified—lazier and more predictable. Hence why…” He cuts his eyes to mine. “He abducted another human witch.”
I manage a small nod. “Right. Makes sense. He got lucky. If Evie was anything else, he might not have done it.” A pit opens in my stomach with this realization.
“We know for a fact that the Tyrrhenian sea contains many—no,innumerableportals,” Bowen says. “Sunken temples, ancient shipwrecks, schools of mythological water-bound creatures.”
I scoff. “Who needs a getaway car? Just slip through a few portals.”
“Exactly, but you two cannot take any risks.” Bowen reaches into his desk drawer. “Your passports.” He drops them on the desk. “Orfeo, you will travel through the Quiet Network. Diantha, you will fly. Economy.”
My passport is the standard blue booklet all Americans get. Nothing extraordinary. Orfeo’s on the other hand…
He picks up the envelope-sized trifold leather pouch, unwrapping the twine strap holding it together. “Still haven’t given up the pomp and circumstance, have we?”
Bowen let out a hard laugh. “You know how smugglers can be.”
“Do they know their cargo is precious?” Orfeo says as he flips through the pages of his document. He lingers on the final page, glancing his thumb over a line that readsREBIRTH DATE: November 10, 1976
“Absolutely. They were all trembling once I mentioned your mate,” Bowen says, bringing our attention back to him. He slides another set of papers across the table. “Your tickets. You leave in seven days.”
“Thank you,” I say as I push an envelope bulging with cash across the table to the man who had once been nothing more than my professor. “The last of your payment…plus something extra for everything you’ve helped us with.”
Bowen rests his hand over mine for a moment and gives me a squeeze.“Thank you, my dear.”
I toss him a wink. “Anything for you. Come by the club tonight.” Orfeo and I stand, pulling on our jackets. “Your favorite dancers are back from Montreal.”
My ex-professor’s entire face colors a deep plummy red. “Ah, well. It is Friday, isn’t it?” And then he buries his nose in his wristwatch.
“You torture the poor man.”
“No, I don’t!” I laugh, knocking my shoulder into Orfeo’s. He slips his arm around my neck and pulls me into his chest. “I just want him to relax and have a little fun.”
“Oh?” He cups my chin in his hand, angling my face up toward him. “Look who is talking.” The thin, yellow street lamp light illuminates his features, and I see mischief glint in his eyes.
“Youmake me relax,” I say softly. “I’m just trying to return the favor, ass. Now, kiss me”
“Yes,” he growls, tightening his grip on me and pressing his lips against my temple, then my cheek and finally—finally—my lips. “Call me dirty names,” he murmurs against my skin. “The filthier the better.”
We follow Main Street down all the way to where it meets a narrow creek off the Delaware River. Then, we hop the short, stone parapet and follow the banks through the thick, overgrown trees until we reach the dock—our dock. Rotted and water-logged, but Orfeo managed to repair it with a few strategic waves of his hands.
We found the dock by chance on one of our nightly walks and dubbed it ours. Now, coming here has been our tradition sinceall the snow melted and the evenings went from bitingly cold to breezy and cool.
The late May air whips across my neck, chilly and humid, but with Orfeo’s arms around me and his blood in my veins I’m always warm. He leads me to our spot in the shade of a wide-trunked chestnut tree, on a stale corner of the old wooden jetty. We sit beside each other, watching the crescent moon dance on the surface, breathing in the sweet, almost-summer air.
The cicadas are finally back and their song is all around us. We stay quiet, fingers tangled on the wood between us.
Finally, I say: “I don’t want to wait another week. I wanna leave tomorrow.”
“I know,amore.” He takes his fingers from where they’re tangled with mine and rests them on my shoulder. “I know you are worried, but it’s not so simple. I have to begin building my strength now. And then, we need to make sure everything is in place here. We should really consider bringing Leo. He knows that sea like the back of his hand. He has bartered with those beings before.”
