It’s started to rain, that heavy, muggy rain that wets the windscreen in big, round, splashy drops. It streaks across the car windows as we zip along the motorway far faster than a normal car. There’s an awkward tension in the air; Gwendolynne keeps fiddling with her hair, twisting the elaborate curls, and several times she opens her mouth and then closes it, as though unsure of what to say.
Finally, she spits it out. “I think we should make a plan for tonight.”
“Very well,” I say, throwing a glance at her. “We go in, look for a powerful magical object, and then get out again.”
She scowls at me. “That’s not very comprehensive. How about we split up and try to interrogate people? I’ll start with Nora Chapman, I can probably get Heli to—”
“Chan, this is a gala, not a fucking police procedural. We can’t just round up the guests and start firing questions at them.”
The words explode out of her. “I wasn’t going to—” She stops short, pauses, then continues. “I didn’tactuallymean interrogating them. I just meant trying to eke out some information by asking a few questions, that’s all.”
I raise one eyebrow. “That sounds an awful lot like interrogating.”
She folds her arms across her chest and glowers. “What’s your plan, then? If we don’t find any tethers, how doyoupropose we best make use of our time?”
I can think of many activities I’d rather do with her, but I don’t say it. I just narrow my eyes, staring back, silent for a few stretched-outmoments. Then I say, finally, “We drink. We eat. We socialize.” I pull an open wine bottle out of the ice bucket and start to pour myself a glass. “Wecharmpeople. Get them all buttered up, loosen their tongues with champagne, and wait until they spill their secrets.” With the bottle still poised, I tilt it at her, offering her a drink.
She ignores my offer, her irritation tangible. “It doesn’t actually work like that—”
Very deliberately, I replace the wine bottle in its bucket, then lean back and take a sip. “Of course it does.”
I can almost see her inflating with rapidly expanding anger; can almost see actual sparks flying from her eyes.
She uncrosses her arms and flings them out until both hands are braced on the car seat. “It doesn’t forme!” she hisses. “Just becauseyoucan get away with your charm and good looks doesn’t mean the rest of us can!”
My stomach dips at her words; my fingers tighten around my glass. Uncrossing my legs, I lean forward until I’m entirely too much in her space. Our breaths mingle, my lips parted, a gasp hitching in her throat.
I grin, cocking my head to one side. “You think I’m good-looking?”
She stares at me for a moment, then looks away, out the window. “Some people might think so,” she mutters. “Not me, though.Ihappen to think you’re dead disgusting.”
My heart is thumping so hard I can almost taste it, and I can’t stop my smile from spreading. Reaching up, I cup her cheek with my hand, turning her face to mine. “Yes,” I say. “Iamdisgusting. But then again, Chan…all humans are.”
Our eyes lock. My gaze drops to her darkened lips. My breath feels trapped in the labored rise and fall of my chest.
Good god. This woman…This woman.She is utterly impossible.She infuriates me constantly, more than anyone else has, ever. If something were to happen—if I were to kiss her, right here, right now, right in the back of this limo—then I’m quite sure yet another hole would tear right through the universe.
But then what? If we were together, we’d bicker all the time, much like we’re doing now. We’d be frustrated, and miserable, and probably wind up loathing one another. And hating Gwendolynne, after all these years, is not a valid option.
So I force out a breath, let her face go, and lean back—just as the car pulls up to the curb.
24
Gwendolynne
Harrisford had explained earlier that tonight’s gala would have extra security, given what happened last time. Tonight is supposed to be a demonstration, “a shining example,” proof that Magecorp are not afraid.
Considering the hundreds of police stationed around the cordoned entrance, though, I can confidently say that the CEO of Magecorp must be very, very afraid. It takes us a ridiculous amount of time before we’re even let through the front doors. As we wait among the crowd of shuffling rich folk, I keep stealing glances at Harrisford’s face.
The way he’d looked at me in the car, right after I’d admitted that I find him attractive…I cringe, remembering my unplanned confession.What the hell were you thinking, Gwen?
But then he’d leaned forward. He’d cradled my face. His gaze had dropped, hungrily, right down to my lips. And all of a sudden we’d arrived. The spell was broken; we’d sprung apart.
What was he playing at? Was he trying to rattle me? Lull me into a false sense of security?
What might have happened if the car ride had been a mere five minutes longer?
I can’t allow myself to dwell on these thoughts, or get suckered in by his games—already Harrisford is murmuring his thanks to a guard, who is languidly waving us through. Tonight, I must only concentrate on trying to find the tether. And if I’m unsuccessful at that, I’ll corner Heloise and her mother, since it seems like Harrisford is planning to be absolutely zero fucking help.
