“Glad I’m memorable.” He frowned. “Of course it was you … You think I would’ve forgotten something like that?” His eyes widened suggestively as they grazed my body, setting my cheeks on fire again. “God, Evie. I know you’re worried about this Tribe thing, but relax a little bit!” He leaned in to graze the side of my face with his hand. “Sofie will fix it.” I froze, unsure of how to respond to his affections without hurting him. He leaned in and pressed his mouth against my ear, sending shivers through my body. “I miss you …”
I couldn’t help it. I slinked back, my body as stiff as a corpse with the unsolicited closeness. Turning to Mage, I whispered, “I don’t know which is worse …”
Her face smoothed over. “Definitely the alternative.”
Bishop’s charcoal eyes shifted from Mage to me, narrowing slightly. “What are you talking about? First, Amelie … now you. Why does it feel there’s a giant secret that I’m not a part of?”
Oh, but you are part of it, Bishop. You’re at the center of it … We needed to be more careful. I needed to distract him.
“No secrets,” I said, smiling as I forced myself to reach forward and pat his knee. I held the box up in front of me. “Thanks for this. I’ll be sure to model it for Max later,” I offered with a sly wink, trying to make light of the situation.
Bishop made a stabbing motion to his chest. With a deep groan, he fell to the floor with dramatic flare. If my flippant rebuff wounded him, I couldn’t tell. Either way, his focus was off the secret.
I glanced over my shoulder, hoping to find Caden lingering in a corner. No one but Wraith stared back. My shoulders sagged. Where could he be?
“Here’s another one. From Amelie.” Mage shoved a large box in my face, temporarily distracting me from the inner turmoil that must’ve been splayed across my face. Oh, Amelie … I peeled the wrapping to reveal an oversized brown shoebox. Inside was a beautiful pair of soft brown leather riding boots, similar to the pair I’d brought to her on Ratheus. As I admired them, I noticed a narrow inner pocket. Hmm … Sliding the boots on over my jeans, I tested my dagger’s fit in one of the pockets. “Perfect!”
Bishop snorted. “You think you’re ready for war now?” When he processed the severity of his words, the grin slipped off his face. He picked up my diamond pendant from its box, and tossed it up and down as if were loose change. “I hope it never comes to that.”
“It’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?” I whispered sadly. Would it be before or after I miraculously freed Veronique? Before or after I turned into a jaundice-eyed freak? Before or after Caden told me to drop dead?
Caden …
I searched the room again. Where the hell was he? I need to explain, damn it! Just five minutes to talk openly, freely, without guarding my words, without onlookers. Impossible … The word became real as I spotted my dark-haired warden loitering in the shadows. Watching me. Always watching.
I folded my face into my hands, the urge to scream overwhelming. I wanted to run as fast as I could; through the door, into the snow, into freedom. Would Wraith chase me? Would I have five minutes to myself so I could drop to my knees and pound the earth, to pity myself, to plead with God or the Fates or whomever was running the show up there? So freaking ironic. Before, I was disappointed that Caden couldn’t turn me. Now, all I wanted to do was remain human. Was that too much to ask?
I stood, bile churning the meager contents of my belly, and moved toward the hall. Wraith was instantly on guard, mirroring my steps. “Bathroom,” I grumbled, my irritation growing with each second. I anticipated the upcoming argument.
As expected, he barged into the bathroom to inspect it, shoving me out of the way. “It is empty,” he announced.
“Wow. If this grim reaper gig doesn’t pan out for you, you could always take over for Sherlock Holmes.”
“I do not understand your suggestion.”
“Of course you don’t,” I pushed past him with a loud snort.
“I will wait outside,” he added, unfazed by my snippy attitude. That only made me feel guilty. He was doing his job. He stepped out and turned his back to me. I shut the door and flipped on the fan, wanting added background noise given I had an audience.
Finally, alone. The treacherous girl with more deadly secrets than the Secret Service, deceiving her way through her days, misleading those she cares about most. All for the greater good. I had no right to get angry with any of them ever again! Everything they were doing was for the greater good of something. Whether it coincided with keeping me alive or not was irrelevant.