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“You better start getting used to it. Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”
She tried to pull back—to shove me back, more like—but I wasn’t budging. If I were human, she might have had half a chance, but I wasn’t human and I wasn’t giving her an inch.
Her soft growl of frustration made me smile. I couldn’t help it if I tried.
“Are you immortal, or is it an illusion of some kind?” Piper asked.
“You really don’t give up.”
“It’s not a trick, is it?” Her voice got softer, scared. “When other people look at you, they see what I see, right? It’s not just me?”
She thought I was messing with her brain? Even if I had that kind of power, I wouldn’t use it on her. I didn’t pretend to be a saint, but I’d never lied to Piper.
“It’s not you,” I murmured.
“Then Nacio knows what you are?”
I resisted the urge to tense up. “Does it matter? It’s not like you can ask him. He doesn’t want you spending time with me.” I’d heard their conversation outside her living room before dinner. Nacio thought Piper deserved better than an angel who couldn’t give her a normal life that fulfilled all her hopes and dreams. Whether he was right or not was inconsequential. Nacio wouldn’t tell Piper I was an angel. If that was a card he planned on playing, he would have done it already.
“That’s not Nacio’s call to make,” Piper said, her voice stronger and her spine straightening under my hands. There was that strength I saw in her soul.
“Maybe not, but he’s not going to help you in your quest to interrogate me.”
“I know.” She relaxed against me, resting her cheek on my bare chest. “You’re so warm,” she murmured, sounding as if she was on the brink of falling asleep.
My hand smoothed over her wet hair while I let her borrow my body heat. She’d dropped the immortality conversation more easily than I’d expected. We’d probably be having it again. I was kind of looking forward to it.
Eleven
Piper
Days wentby without a word from Samuel.
He didn’t disappear like he had before. I knew he was still in town—I even saw him across the room at Youngblood a couple of times—but he didn’t acknowledge me. After our trip to the beach on Friday, he’d brought me home, picked up Joriel, and taken off. He hadn’t given me his number or left me with any promises.
If he wanted to talk to me, he would. Sam ruled Youngblood. The fact that I could walk through the door without being summoned to his private alcove meant he hadn’t asked for me. And I was not desperate enough to attempt crossing the invisible line between him and the rest of the patrons. It wasn’t like I’d make it anyway. I’d just make a fool out of myself, and I refused to do that. My pride might want to take a vacation when it came to Samuel, but I had enough of it left to keep me from that embarrassing scene.
Seven days after Sam and Joriel came over for dinner, I was sitting at the bar in Youngblood. Shawn was out on a date with a mysterious guy he wasn’t willing to tell me about yet. So I was alone with a drink I didn’t feel like finishing, watching Gayle serve other patrons. Everyone was busy tonight. Nacio was off with Joriel, doing God only knew what since that was yet another secret I wasn’t privy to. And I’d refused to so much as glance in the direction of Sam’s private alcove.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Orlando:You busy tomorrow?
Me:Why do you want to know?
Quinn was usually Orlando’s go-to sister for company and pretty much anything else. If she’d turned him down, I wasn’t convinced I’d want to do whatever it was he had in mind.
Orlando:Hayden’s having a party. You should come.
Hayden was a year younger than Orlando. The two had grown up as friends, but I hadn’t heard Hayden’s name recently. I didn’t know they were still in touch.
Me:Hayden and I don’t run in the same circles. I won’t know anyone there.
Orlando:So bring a date.
An image of Sam popped into my mind unbidden. As if.
Me:I don’t have a date to bring.
