There are plenty of rooms free, but Elijah only booked one with twin beds. I didn’t miss the odd look on the receptionist’s face as she booked us in. Probably wondering if we’re related or lovers. Daughter or girlfriend, and if daughter then way too old to be sharing a room with her dad.
It’s my curse for looking so young but having a mature mind. “Have I told you how much I hate the cold?”
“Not the best weather for pixies,” Elijah agrees.
“My wings ache.”
“You don’t have wings.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
He chuckles and this time it reaches his eyes. He’s been somber, worried, quiet. Not the Elijah I know.
I pick up my tea and take a sip, hoping it’ll thaw my insides. “You’re worrying about her again, aren’t ya?”
“Hmmm?” He frowns. “No.”
“But ya knew exactly who I was talking about.”
He sighs. “Probably because she’s all you talk about.”
“And all you think about.” I smirk at him over the rim of my mug.
His frown deepens. “It’s not like that. I care for Cora and I want her to be safe. We need her to be safe, but that’s all.”
“Is it?”
He looks out the window, ignoring my question. What is his deal? He has women from time to time. A week here and a week there, but he’s never been in a relationship, not as long as I’ve known him. I’d say it was a time issue, but no, Elijah has time for a lover if he wants one, and I’m not blind, I see the way he looks at Cora in unguarded moments. He wants her, but he keeps his distance.
I’m intrigued.
“Cora’s probably real pissed at you for not calling.” I look at him from beneath my lashes, scoping him out for an emotional reaction.
Nothing. No tightening of the jaw or twitch of the brow to indicate this bothers him.
“I don’t doubt it,” he says.
And me. She’ll be pissed at me too. I should have gone to see her after…after Charlotte betrayed me…us. Fuck, I loved that woman. Every time I think about what happened, lava bubbles in my stomach.
“Eat your food, Bramble,” Elijah says. “I’ve paid for this room for two nights. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
My gaze shoots up to meet his. “Excuse me?”
“You’re staying here.”
Panic tightens my gut. “Like hell I am.”
His eyes blaze with a rare flash of anger. “I’ll let you tag along, but you’ll do as you’re told. Do you understand me?”
I push him from time to time, it’s what I do, but I know when to stop. Elijah is chill most of the time, but there’s an inferno beneath the surface waiting to be ignited. I might be chilly, but I’m not eager to get burned.
I temper my tone. “I don’t like you going in alone.”
He sighs and nods. “I’ll be fine, but you need to stay here.”
The panic in my gut twists into a knot. I recognize this play. “You want me to stay behind in case something goes wrong.”
His mouth tightens. “Yes.”
I sit up straighter. “That’s the only reason you let me tag along, isn’t it?”
He makes a sound of exasperation. “It’s more than that, Bramble, and you know it. When have I ever asked you to hang back?”
He has a point. But I don’t like this. I don’t like him going off alone. Not now. Not here. Not for this. But I get why he needs me to hang back.
“If you’re not back in forty-eight hours, I’m coming after you.”
He leans forward in his seat, his expression stern and forbidding. “If I’m not back in forty-eight hours, you need to get out of here.”
Charlotte betrayed me, but Elijah’s always there for me. A surrogate father. A mentor. A friend.
So I nod and agree with the words coming out of his mouth, because that’s what he wants to see, but it’s a lie.
There is no way I’m leaving him behind.
Chapter Twenty-Seven Cora
We were back outside The Order. The music was pumping, outdoor heaters melting the ice in the air so that crazy, unsuspecting humans could totter about in ridiculously high heels, mini-skirts, halter necks, and T-shirts totally inappropriate for the weather.
The revenants must have been having a field day the last couple of weeks, getting their snack on.
It made me sick.
I pulled my jacket down to cover my weapons belt, not that I’d need them with a negation spell ready to launch off my tongue. We had no idea what the glamour covered so we’d dressed for a club, tight slacks and jeans and cleavage-showcasing tops. I’d pulled my hair back into a sleek French braid, Poppy had her bubble-gum tresses loose so they fell down her back in a curtain of delicious pink. Jessie had her curls piled on top of her head and Sloane had styled her silver pixie cut with a little hair wax, giving her a funky look and sharpening her cut-glass features. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
We looked hot and kick-ass walking up to the club, not that anyone paid much attention to us. The Elites’ runes kept us from attracting too much attention.
Lauris sat in the car, engine idling for a quick getaway in case the bracelets turned out to be duds. I’d filled him in on Bramble’s whereabouts and noted the relief on his face. He obviously cared about the pixie.
Sloane reached the doors and the bouncer barely glanced at her as she walked through.
“He’s human,” Poppy said to me.
We followed Sloane inside the club. I’d expected a dark and masculine décor, but what we got were creams and golds that looked stunning in the strobe light. A circular dance floor could be accessed by going down two steps, and the periphery of the room was bars and seating. It looked like an arena and it probably was. A place for the revenants to circle and pick out their prey from the
