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“I’m coming too,” Viola said, her knife already in hand.
“No.” Jianyu held up his hand as though to stay her, and to Esta’s surprise, Viola actually paused. “Please. I need you here. Watch over Cela and make sure no harm comes to her.”
Viola looked like she wanted to argue, but one look at Cela had her changing her mind. She nodded instead. “Hurry. And come back safe.”
“I don’t need watching over,” Cela argued, bristling in frustration.
“Then let me stand by you instead,” Viola told her.
Jianyu offered his hand. “If you are ready?”
“Let’s go save Harte from his own stupid bravery,” Esta told him, taking it.
Almost immediately, she felt the buzz of warm magic wrapping around her as the world went wobbly.
“Come back to us safe,” Cela told them, but she was looking at Jianyu when she spoke.
Esta saw his expression soften, but he didn’t respond. Instead, they turned and pushed into the back entrance of the Strega, leaving the noise of the streets behind.
It had been only a few months since Esta had been there, but it might as well have been an eternity. Once, the scent of Tilly’s bread would have warmed the air, but now only the smell of stale ale and tobacco smoke welcomed them. A racket was coming from the direction of the barroom, but she ignored it and followed Jianyu up the back stairs, invisible in the cloak of his affinity.
“So, you and Cela?” she asked as they climbed.
“Cela has been a true friend in these weeks,” he answered, and it was only the bit of pink that warmed the tips of his ears that gave anything away.
“She’s pretty great,” Esta told him.
“Cela Johnson is not for me,” Jianyu said.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “She sure looks at you like she wants to be for you.”
He turned to her like he would argue. But instead, his mouth went tight, and he continued onward without speaking.
Soon enough they were at the doorway of Dolph’s apartment, and Esta stopped. She couldn’t seem to make herself take that next step and walk through the door.
Jianyu gave her a questioning look, but she only shook her head to tell him she was okay.
She had to be okay. She had to focus, because Harte was likely on the other side. She would not think about the time she’d spent in that apartment with Dolph, never suspecting her true connection to him. It was too late to go back, too late to grasp those minutes like the treasures they had been. Now there was only forward, to Harte. To whatever the future held.
The door to the apartment was ajar, and a familiar voice carried through the gap.
Nibsy.
Silently, they slipped into the apartment.
Harte was standing on the other side of the room with his hands raised. He was wearing a sleepy, almost drunk look, and he was smiling despite the gun Nibsy had aimed at his chest. On the table next to Nibsy was a leather folder. In the hand not holding the gun, Nibsy leaned upon Dolph’s cane.
They’d barely gotten through the door when Nibsy visibly stiffened, like a predator catching the scent of prey. Suddenly, Esta heard Jianyu gasp. She felt the warmth of his magic dissipate as a shock of ice burst around them.
Jianyu let go of her hand as he went rigid. His back arched, and he fell to his knees, writhing against some invisible torture. She wanted to help him, but she didn’t dare move as long as Nibsy had Harte held at gunpoint. She couldn’t save them both, and now that Jianyu’s affinity was no longer cloaking them, she might not be able to save anyone.
Even drugged as he seemed to be, Harte’s expression sharpened the second he realized she had come for him. His stormy eyes were dark with emotion—hope and fear and love all at once. He started to get up, but Nibsy lifted the gun as a reminder and gestured for him to remain where he was.
I’m okay, she wanted to say to soothe the fury and the terror in his eyes. We’ll be okay.
Nibsy stepped to one side, keeping the gun on Harte as he turned to face her. “I thought you might join us,” he said pleasantly. “Jianyu as well, I see.” Esta saw Nibsy’s fingers tighten on the cane, and Jianyu jerked in pain.
“Let them go, Nibsy,” Esta said.
