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“I did. And that is all true. I’m likely just sensing my brothers on the rooftops across the way or a member of Drusila’s coven checking in on our progress. Unless they are quite close, I can only sense their magic, not what kind of Strange they are.” His voice is low and soothing, a soft rumble that cuts through the noise of the party. He pulls out his phone and texts someone. “There, I let my brothers know to be on the lookout for a witch.”
I frown, not quite believing everything is so simple, no matter how much Titan claims it is. “As long as you’re fine.”
“I’m more than fine. The Pull is going to lead me to the Keystone tonight.” He sounds almost like himself for the first time since we entered the building.
We wade into the crowd of stylish and creative types, everyone determined to stand out more than the person next to them and, in turn, everyone becoming a single mass of color and texture. I nod in the direction of a willowy Black woman in a plunging red dress and a tall Korean-American man who I recognize from his “Hollywood’s New Leading Man” headline on the cover of an industry magazine. His arm is draped around her shoulders in the corner of the room. Their pose mirrors the large blown-up movie poster suspended from the ceiling at the back of the loft. They look casual enough chatting and drinking champagne, but the crowd has made a halo of space around the movie’s lead actors, and more than a few of the guests linger as they walk by. It makes it easy to slip past unnoticed.
Titan firmly guides us towards the center of the room, giving us the best vantage point to see who might enter from the elevators or the stairs. We move through the people, and I’m prepared to answer any questions he has or explain the strange rituals of the social climbing elite, but he seems far too preoccupied with the room itself.
I look around for what it could be, for the Keystone. Eden had shown me a sketch of it that Dredd had made. It was quite small, about the size of a smartphone, roughly hewn and carved with swirling symbols. When I look around the space, all I see is the table of hors d’oeuvres in front of us.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Keeping track of where all the security guards are, where there are entrances and exits, what obstacles might be in the way if trying to make an escape. Where any security cameras are,” he says nonchalantly, keeping his voice low so only I can hear. He stands behind me and gently grips my hips, turning me to look where he is looking. “There, there, and there. If I was doing their security, I’d put a camera behind that pillar too.”
“Is that where the Keystone is?” I angle my chin up to look at him, marveling at the way his eyes darken and narrow as he surveys our surroundings.
“No, the Pull is the strongest here,” he explains, leaning down to whisper in my ear as he hands me a crab puff from the hors d’oeuvre table.
I take it but don’t move to bring it to my lips. I’m too busy trying to see if the Pull has somehow manifested on Titan’s physical form.
“What does it feel like?” I ask curiously, gesturing with the crab puff to his chest.
“Eat, and I’ll tell you.”
I don’t waste time arguing and pop the entire crab puff in my mouth, chewing quickly. My stomach growls when the flaky pastry hits my tongue. I forgot to eat lunch, a fact Titan clearly did not. When I swallow, he hands me another one.
“I don’t know if there is a way to describe it that humans would understand.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “Like erosion, perhaps.”
“Erosion?” My eyes go wide in shock.
“Yes. The Pull is a violent wave gouging into me, removing anything that doesn’t serve it. I feel it scraping and digging into me. It narrows my world down to a single point of desire: to find the Keystone and protect the Relic Room.”
I finish my second crab puff without realizing. I’m too horrified by Titan’s description to think of anything but the pain he must feel.
“What does it feel like now?”
“Like it wants to tear its way through my skin to get to it.”
I reach out for his chest like I might single-handedly hold his body together and swallow a gasp at the pain I see in his gray eyes. I imagine this is what he saw in my face last night as he held me. Still, Titan said it all so casually, like feeling as if you might be ripped apart is normal.
“Champagne?” A server, a woman in a sparkling cocktail dress, leans in, brightly interrupting as she pushes her tray between the two of us.
I drop my hand and step back to give her space but watch as the server smiles at Titan. Her eyes linger on his face and broad chest instead of her tray.
“Thank you.” I grab a glass for each of us from the tray, and then I don’t know what comes over me. I don’t know what jealous person inside possesses me, but I turn to Titan and hand him a glass, adding, “We’re parched, aren’t we, Daddy?”
The server backs off with a smile, and I swear I hear Titan let out a low growl that is more vibration than sound. I feel a rush of heat come to my cheeks and the need to clench my thighs tightly together. I search for anywhere else to look but his smug face as I take a long sip of champagne.
I almost choke when I see the bald head.
“Are you all right?” Titan asks, stepping in close.
“I guess he really is friends with Freddy,” I deadpan as I spot my arrogant ass of a past arrangement in the crowd.
“Harris.” He grounds out the name, following my gaze to the bald man in the navy suit just a bit too tight for his frame. He leans down close enough to whisper in my ear, “We’ll avoid him.”
“No.” I shake it off. “I’m fine.”
