Page 150 of Split or Swallow

She slid into their favorite booth, ignoring what felt like everyone’s eyes on her. No doubt people would be talking about tonight’s events for a long time.

Her thoughts returned to the conversation with Caspen, and the one condition under which his quiver would accept their engagement. What kind of condition could it possibly be? And what “matters” did he have to attend to in the meantime? A wave of annoyance swept through Tem. She wasn’t over the fact that he’d cut off their connection with no warning. It was unacceptable that he chose to exercise his power in such a one-sided way. They couldn’t have a proper relationship if he did⁠n’t communicate with her. Tem was always in the dark—always the last to know. It had to stop.

Gabriel slid into the booth and handed her a beer.

“Here you are, dearest.”

“Thanks,” she managed a smile. They clinked their glasses and took a sip together.

“You know,” Gabriel leaned closer. “Old Steve is looking pretty good tonight.”

“Not another word.”

“I’m just saying. If it doesn’t work out with the prince, you can marry him. I bet he likes a bit of tongue.”

“Can’t I just marry you?”

“Please, Tem. I’m swimming in stable boys.”

Tem sighed.

“Although,” he said musingly. “You might try fucking in a carriage sometime. Roomy.”

Tem rolled her eyes. Then she looked at Gabriel. He was drunk, and so was she, and for some reason, all she wanted was to tell him everything that was happening in her life. She wanted to tell him about the claw, about her bond with Caspen, about Jonathan and Christopher. The secrets were beginning to eat her alive.

“Gabriel,” she said slowly. “What if I told you I was responsible for something bad?”

He took a long swallow of beer. His glass was half empty already.

“I’d be intrigued.”

“What if it was really, really bad?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I’d be very, very intrigued.”

Tem took a gulp of beer. Was she really about to do this? Before she could decide, Gabriel held up his hand.

“Tem,” he said in a pseudo-serious tone. “If you’re going to tell me something important, I need hard liquor.”

She had to smile at that. Quite frankly, she needed hard liquor in order to tell him.

“Fine.”

Tem stood and made her way to the bar, where Old Steve was leering at her. Before Tem could rummage in her pocket for coins, she heard:

“It’s on me.”

Tem’s blood ran cold. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Leo.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Leo’s lanky frame was leaning casually against the bar, his eyebrows arched in preemptive amusement.

“What are you doing here?” Tem hissed.

“Buying you a drink. I thought that was obvious.”