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“Will you tell me why you don’t like to talk? Why your voice sounds like this? The real truth?”
The hand on the back of my neck tightened. “Not until you choose.”
I pressed my face into his shirt, and he held me tighter. It was still strange, them touching me. “Silver told me that once any of you touched me, you wouldn’t be able to stop. It doesn’t seem that way.”
A low groan. “You have no fucking idea, Sky. Your scent with mine… If I move an inch, I’ll take you against the table.”
Every word was low and rumbled, and my stomach swooped with need. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Eat. Then I will help you choose.”
I pulled up and back, quickly standing up. “What is it?”
He gestured to the table again, and I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
It didn’t look like that made him happy, but I’d never been a breakfast kind of girl. Most of the time I wasn’t even out of bed by now. “Promise. I’ll take coffee, though.”
Movement to my right startled me, and I jumped backward, startled, as a pot of coffee appeared on the table, next to all the trappings. Including a to-go cup at the ready.
Grave just smiled when I stared at him in shock.
“Fae magic?”
He nodded.
Well, that was nice. I made myself the overly sweet cup of coffee I preferred, and Grave typed something out on his phone before standing and taking my hand. I stared at the connection between us and the way he wove our fingers together. “I won’t lie, Grave. I didn’t think any of you were this sweet.”
He laughed under his breath. “We’re not.”
“Holding hands?”
“Staking my claim.” But his hand squeezed mine, running his thumb over the back of my hand. Sure, there were other Shadows in the courtyard looking our way, but there was more to it than a claim.
We went straight to the old-fashioned church, where Wraith stood at the doors. His uniform of black jeans and a black t-shirt made the blood on his hands stand out. My stomach flipped.
“Hey, Sky. You ready for this?”
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” I said, but now I had a suspicion.
He paused, but nodded, leading the two of us inside. Gorgeous stained-glass windows lined the walls. A round one dominated the space above the altar, roses and thorns twisting around each other. There was one on the floor too, thick, dark glass. The colors weren’t as bright, but it matched the pattern of the window above the altar. “This is incredible.”
“You might not say that in a minute.”
We went through a side door near the altar, and a wave of stench washed over me. Blood and sick and darker things. Fae senses were a bitch sometimes, and now I was pretty sure I knew exactly where we were going.
I pulled Grave’s hoodie up over my nose. It took the edge off, but only just.
Down the steps, we sank below the earth, and I heard the wet sound of a fist on flesh. The scene when I rounded the corner froze me in my tracks.
Light poured through the stained glass floor above, painting Silver in blocks of color. Blood spattered across Silver’s face, arms, and chest, just like Wraith, and his eyes burned with rage. And sitting, tied in a chair, eyes nearly swollen and face bloody, was Kramer.
CHAPTER TWELVE
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GRAVE
BLOOD-COLORED GLASSES
