“E fell.”
“You fell?” Nick echoes, disbelief sharpening his voice. “But you’re dead.”
“Gravity still applies to ghosts here, apparently,” E says joyfully, like he can’t believe his luck. “Maybe spirits are more powerful in Faerie.”
Nick’s eyes flick to the churned earth, to the water parting around invisible legs, to my hands pressed against empty air.
His jaw ticks before he sheathes the daggers. “Wonderful. You’ve rediscovered gravity and hypothermia. Now get out of the damn creek. We don’t have time for a swim.”
“I can feel everything,” E says, awe still bleeding through his voice. “The mud. The leaves. The ground under my feet.”
Leaves crunch and mud splatters where his invisible hands probe the riverbed, squishing it between his fingers. He pushes himself up from the ground, water dripping from his invisible frame.
Scrambling for traction, I grip E’s lower arm, the faint trail of hair beneath my fingers turning my insides to mush. I can barely see straight, let alone climb out of a slippery pit with dignity. A shiver races up my spine, part fear, part heat, part something I refuse to name. My cheeks burn. My ears flush. The lump in my throat pulses hard enough to hurt.
“I’m going to check out that cabin,” Nick shouts from above.
“Hold on. We’re coming,” I call.
Nick turns on his heel and strides ahead anyway, vanishing from view.
E leans closer, and my fingers slide over the soaked fabric of his shirt on their way up to his shoulder as I try and fail to steady myself.
Then he lifts me.
Just like that.
A startled cry pops out of my mouth. “What in the name of darkness?—”
Serpent flames stir in my blood, coiling up my spine and limbs, leaving me trembling in his arms while my heart explodes against my ribs.
“E, wait.” I press my open palm to his rock-hard chest in half protest. “I can walk.”
“What’s the matter, little fox? Caught in a snare?” he murmurs, his voice warm against my ear.
There’s a confidence to him that wasn’t there before as he carries me bridal style, steady and unflinching, up the slope and out of the ravine.
My mind races with dangerous thoughts. Sinful thoughts. Impossible thoughts.
As we reach the top, my stomach flips. “Let me down,” I whisper.
Nick is almost at the cabin, thankfully with his back turned to us.
“Oh, I get it. You don’t want him to know about us,” he chuckles against my ear. “I’m your filthy little secret.”
I bite my bottom lip.Us.
The word echoes low in my belly.
But I’m not invisible because I can still see myself, which means the second Nick turns around, he will see me hanging in midair, too.
“Let. Me. Down.”
“If you insist.”
E sounds more amused than not.
After he puts me back on dry land, his invisible fingers lace with mine, and my heart somersaults. No more warm-jelly sort of sensation. Just long, warm,hardfingers.
