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“So…” Alexios points a finger back and forth between Cillian and me. “What are you two going to do about… this?”
I open my mouth, ready to tell Alexios that we’ll figure out whatever the hell is growing between us, but Cillian speaks first.
“Nothing is happening,” he says. “It’s just physical attraction, but we are stopping the moment the stalker situation is over, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Ouch…
I know he’s only repeating what I’ve been saying since day one.
And I know he’s just trying to protect himself.
But fuck, it hurts.
It hurts so badly I want to grab him and tell everyone that Cillian is mine and will stay mine long after this stalker is gone.
“Knox, you copy?” Logan’s voice comes through my earpiece. “Astrid is looking for the primary. We have a situation with tonight’s entertainment.”
I tap my comms. “Copy, Logan. We’re on our way.”
I head down with Cil to the lower staff lounge, where Damián, Finnian, Logan, Leo, and Julian are gathered in a circle, arguing.
“What is going on?” Cillian asks as we step into the room.
“We have a disaster,” Leo says, throwing his hands up. “The main entertainer is allergic to fish, and the fucking idiot ate tuna thinking it was fruit.”
Cillian blinks. “The fuck?”
Damián sighs, shaking his head. “He’s probably Latino. For us, tuna is a fruit from nopales. Atún is the fish.”
“Yeah, well, right now he’s puking his guts out in the bathroom,” Leo says.
“Why do you need an entertainer now?” I ask.
“The pre-auction cocktail hour,” Julian explains. “To keep the guests entertained so they don’t murder each other from stress before the bidding starts.”
“Which entertainer was it?” Cillian asks.
Leo checks his chart and sighs. “The fire guy.”
“Damn!” Cil curses. “I liked that show. What else can we do in that timeslot?”
As Cillian and Leo give each other ideas, Tae walks into the room.
He looks calm, but his eyes tell me there is something wrong.
Really fucking wrong.
He gestures at me and Damián, waving us to follow him, so we do.
We follow Tae outside into the hallway, and I lean against the wall, already feeling drained.
“What is it, Tae?”
“The performer didn’t have an allergic reaction. I just checked his airway and pupils. He was poisoned, Knox. And now he’s dead.”
“Poisoned?” Damián gasps.
“Is it the same poison the stalker used last time at the O’s?” I ask, and Tae nods.
