I’m not totally sure what he’s apologizing for, but the teary burn comes back into my eyes. I thought he’d be even more angry with me after this new mess.
My head finally sinks against his shoulder just asSalvatore swings us down the ramp into the condo building’s garage.
As soon as the car stops, I push the door open. Salvatore springs out before I’ve gotten to my feet, but he lets me stand on my own, simply blocking me from the view of anyone else in the garage who might glance over.
My other matches fill out the human shield around me, ephemera humming with their presence to conceal us. Byron takes my hand.
I follow Salvatore to the elevator without stumbling, but I’m tensing against the wobbles that run through my legs. Maybe it’s a good thing he carried me from the club. Moving on my own is waking up more shock in my body than I realized I’d feel.
The woman’s severed head flashes behind my eyes again. I clutch Byron’s hand hard enough that he glances over at me with concern darkening his gaze.
I can’t say I’m mourning the loss of her life. She was going to killme.
But the fact is that I’m responsible for her death, any way you look at it…
I was hoping I’d left that part of my life behind. I guess it was naïve of me.
Maybe I should just be glad she didn’t sprout two new heads in that one’s place, hydra style.
The moment we walk through the condo’s doorway, Salvatore hustles toward the bedroom. “We’ve got extra clothes stashed here. I’ll find something that should fit okay.”
I waver on the smooth hardwood floor, afraid that sitting anywhere will leave blood imprinted on the furniture. My dress has already stamped a bloody smear across Cole’s dress shirt. No doubt Salvatore has a matching splotch.
The professor catches me looking and gives a slight shake of his head, his eyes stormy. “It doesn’t matter.”
He shouldn’t be walking around looking like thateither, though. “Cole needs a new shirt too,” I call, and propel myself toward one of the other doorways. “I’m going to get cleaned up in the bathroom. Toss the clothes in.”
I’m not sure I’d want to strip down in front of all my matches—one of whom has generally seemed to resent his attraction to me and one of whom I can’t let touch me—in any circumstances, but I’ve also got no way to hide the scars on my chest at the moment. The last thing I want to do right now is explain the remnants of my past crimes and my attempts to contain my glim.
For once, Salvatore follows my instructions to the letter. I hear the squeak of the hinges while I’m hidden behind the shower curtain giving myself a quick scrub, and when I emerge, my bloody dress and bra have vanished. A pair of jeans, a blank navy-blue T-shirt, and a sports bra wait on the counter.
The clothes fit a bit loose, but I can’t imagine there’s a huge selection here. I give my hair a hasty rub with the towel, square my shoulders, and march out to face the conversation ahead.
Salvatore pauses where he was pacing just outside the bathroom. As he smiles at my arrival, my gaze slides past him to my other matches.
Byron and Cole stand poised at opposite ends of the living room, their heads swiveling toward me. Asher pokes his head out of the kitchen area with a tentative smile of his own.
He walks over carrying a steaming mug. “I thought maybe you could use something comforting to drink… There were instant cocoa packets in the cupboard.”
The gesture is so sweet and so like the Asher I knew that my eyes well up for the third time in the past hour.
As I accept the mug, Byron strides over and tucks his arm around my waist. “Come sit down. You’ve been through alot. We all want to know everything that happened, but you need to recover too.”
I let him guide me to the sofa where he sits us down, still with his arm firm around me. Making a statement about his devotion after Salvatore and Cole already carted me around?
Asher sinks down at my other side, watching intently as I bring the cocoa to my lips. Salvatore prowls a little more before flopping into the armchair opposite us.
Cole stays on his feet, his stance rigid as if he can’t imagine sitting.
I take a sip of the hot, bittersweet liquid, letting the drink fortify me before I begin my explanation. “I wanted more answers. And I overheard Grady Tadros talking about trying to get some kind of benefit at Groove Garden before, and then today saying he didn’t need to go anymore, so I wondered how much it might be connected…”
I lay out how I went into the club and snuck out back, skimming over my slipping through the magical protections on the door to the basement. Clearly I didn’t work my own magic as effectively as I thought if I was caught so quickly.
When I get to the part about the index cards, my throat starts to close up. “There was a file on Kenneth, and another on Grady—looked like it was just started recently—and… and one on my dad.”
I fumble in my purse for the two cards I shoved in before I tried to flee.
Byron takes them from me first, frowning at the unfamiliar script and the photo on one. “You don’t thinkhe’sinvolved in the attacks?—?”
