Chapter 26

26

Their final two weeks together passed in a blur. Before Leah knew it, D-Day was upon them, with only one more night left.

One more night. Every time she thought it, nausea ran up her throat. She tried not to dwell—after all, what would be the point? They'd both known this was the arrangement. Short-term, no strings. Except now they'd got to this point, Leah wanted to take some strings, wrap them around Gabriel, around herself and knot them together.

She didn't let it show as she maneuvered the breakfast tray up the stairs, mumbling a curse as Delilah shot past her. Rosie was hot on her heels and the orange juice sloshed in the glass, almost over the French toast Leah had sweated over until it was crisp and perfect. She righted it quickly, passing a chastising glance over her dogs as she reached the top, where they waited outside her bedroom door.

Balancing the tray on her hip, she managed to get the door open, then watched in muted resignation as Rosie charged in and made a flying leap for the bed.

Gabriel, peacefully sprawled across the mattress until this point, shot up with a pained oomph as the sprocker landed on his gut.

"Rise and shine," Leah called out merrily as Gabriel cast her a glower she knew he didn't mean. Not when he was already scratching Rosie behind the ear, making her back leg thump in earnest. Delilah yipped from the floor, demanding to be picked up.

"Not when there's food," Leah told him before he could reach down. She proffered the breakfast tray. "For you."

"You made me breakfast?" He accepted the tray, flipping out the legs.

"In bed. And bonus, you get me, too." She pushed Rosie off before the dog could sniff too earnestly at the French toast and pointed at both troublemakers. "Where's Peggy? Go find Peggy."

They gamboled off. Louie appeared two minutes later, obviously deciding the bed was better than the couch. Leah scooped him up and sat with him on her lap, sitting cross-legged and diagonal to Gabriel, who had yet to touch his breakfast.

"You like French toast, right?"

Gabriel smiled his smile, the barely-there curve which always looked brand-new. "Yes. Thank you."

"I figured the last full day before you go home deserved something special."

His green eyes slid to the side as he picked up his fork. "Not the last morning?"

"I thought you'd want to make me breakfast," she teased. "Some burnt toast? Rubbery eggs?"

He arched his eyebrows and cut a piece of French toast. "Who will keep my ego in check when you're not around?"

That fist around her heart squeezed mercilessly. She shrugged a careless shoulder, cuddling Louie closer for comfort. "I'm sure you'll find some society witch to do it. From what I hear, they ain't no marshmallows."

"No." He stared down at the plate.

She indulged in a long stare, drinking him in. "Did you say you're meeting with the board tomorrow afternoon?"

He nodded. "They'll review the past three months, but I'm not concerned how the vote will go."

Except she knew a part of him was. She set Louie down on the comforter and the King Charles sleepily curled up on the spread. She reached out, touched Gabriel's knee. "They won't be able to vote you in fast enough. They'll be like, ‘Congrats, you're the big fish we all want. Tell us, oh mighty one, what shall we do to serve?'"

He huffed what might have been a laugh.

"Seriously, how do you feel?" She drew a design on his leg beneath the blankets. "Nervous? Excited?" Devastated?

"I'm not sure." He set the plate aside, still uneaten. Put a hand over hers to lift it so he could fiddle with her fingers. "Relieved? I've been waiting for this for so long, it feels surreal to know by tomorrow afternoon I'll have everything I've ever wanted."

Words bubbled up, desperate to be voiced.

She swallowed them down. He'd just said he was relieved it was almost over. She reached into herself and produced a bright smile she didn't feel. "So, what do you want to do on your last day?"

"Actually, I promised I'd meet Bastian and Henry at the bar."

"Henry is still going to Toil and Trouble, even after Emma forbade him?"

"When did she forbid him?"

Leah narrowed her eyes. "She didn't?" Traitor.

He shook his head. Hesitated. "I apologize. I didn't know if you'd be busy at the shelter."

On his last day? As if she'd be anywhere else. "I'm here for your whim."

"I like the sound of that."

Leah leaned forward, looped her arms around his neck. Keep it light , she ordered herself. Playful. "How about you meet me at the shelter after and you can say bye to Chuck then, too?"

She didn't know whether to find it funny or insulting that he actually looked grieved at the idea. Oh, sure, saying goodbye to her was easy, but a Labrador? Whole different story.

If she didn't find it so sweet how much he loved that dog, she'd resent it. Okay. Maybe she did, a little. It'd be nice to know she wasn't the only one twisting over this.

"We could do that," he agreed, sliding his hands up her arms.

"We could have dinner."

"That, too."

"You could say you'll miss me." The words came out without any plan. Mortification sank into her bones. "Um..."

His hands stopped their sensual slide. "What?"

Oh, well. She'd done it now.

"Even if it's not true," she hedged, toying with the wisps of hair at his nape. "You could say you'll miss me."

"Will you miss me?"

Careful , she cautioned. "Maybe."

"Your enthusiasm stuns me. Please, let me take a moment to recover."

She pinched his neck. "Okay, fine. Yes." Her voice turned soft. Sincere. Too much so. "Yes, I'll miss you, Gabe."

Before she could regret it, he leaned in, pressed his forehead to hers. "I'll miss you, too," he said, deep, grave. The simple words winged into her heart.

It gave her the courage to unlock her own. "What if we didn't end things?"

He stilled. Three seconds counted down before he spoke. "What do you mean?"

Her pulse picked up as she drew back. "I just... I know some humans are accepted into your world. What if I was one of them?"

He said nothing, his face betraying nothing . It felt like a chill across her skin.

Everything in her wanted to curl into a ball, to hide, to retreat. But this was too important to risk not opening herself up. He was as guarded as she could be. One of them had to take the first step.

Even so, she withdrew her hands, fisting them on her lap. "There's something here," she said. "Something real. You said you'd miss me—what if you didn't have to?"

When his silence continued, she felt words scrape her throat with the need to fill it. Her nails pinched her skin as she curled her hands tight. "There are humans in your company and at some point another witch must have wanted a human. It must be possible to—appeal?" She wasn't sure of the word, wasn't sure of anything except that Gabriel didn't look like a man given the key to his heart's desire. She pushed. "I could swear not to tell anyone, if we could just go to the High Family—"

"No."

That one syllable snapped her back. Her chest shuddered as she stared at him. "No?" she echoed.

He moved then, fast, before she'd realized he would. He wore only boxer briefs but he may as well have been wearing one of his suits. His expression was set as he stood next to the bed.

"We will not be going to the High Family," he intoned, voice razor-sharp in its directness. "The idea is ridiculous."

She chose to stay seated, wasn't sure if her legs would hold her. "The idea of being with me is ridiculous?"

His jaw set and he turned to gather up his clothes. As he pulled them on, he kept his movements brusque and efficient, much like his words. "The High Family do not welcome everyone in simply because one witch— likes a human. Business requirements can be examined, and in limited cases special circumstances can be allowed, but a sacrifice is needed to show that the party is serious. That is not what we have here."

"Oh?" Her voice sounded off to her own ears. "What do we have here, Gabriel?"

He refused to meet her eyes as he shrugged on his sweater.

Brittle, she wrapped her arms around her waist to keep herself together. "I'll say it then, shall I? A good fuck."

He whirled on her, the excessive movement so unlike Gabriel that it surprised her. "Don't reduce it to that."

"Why not? You are. Leah Turner, good enough to screw, not good enough to sacrifice something for."

Something flashed in his eyes but he didn't come any closer. "You're being dramatic."

Her vision bled to red. "Because I have actual feelings instead of being a good little robot doing as he's told?"

"Careful."

She ignored that. "Everything you've ever wanted, huh?" She parroted his earlier words with a heaping of scorn. "Why? You don't even want the job, Gabriel, not really. You're only doing it because—" She stopped.

Green glinted dangerously. "Because?"

Fury and hurt still battled in her blood, but she chose her next words with care. "They can't come back and approve of you, Gabe." She flinched when something—the bedside table drawers—banged. "You can't, you shouldn't, live for them. You should do what makes you happy."

"And I suppose that's you?" He didn't sneer but she felt it anyway. "A woman so desperate to be included when she's not even sure why she wants to be?"

She pressed her lips together tight enough to hurt.

"Grow up," he snapped. "This isn't magical cocktails and portalling abroad. It's real and dangerous. And you pushing your way in because you hold a child's fantasy that magic is amazing is not going to end well."

"That's not why," she protested, stomach cramping from the look in his eyes. Not her Gabe. "I told you; I don't know if I'd want to live in that kind of world again."

"Then why even suggest putting yourself in the High Family's line of fire?" he shot back.

"Because I love you ."

Her words, ripped from the depths of her, might as well have been a slap as he took a step back. A surge of emotions lit his eyes, and she swore something like terror flared bright before everything got sucked out. His mask rolled down. "No."

She had to take a breath. "Yes," she said, quieter. "Believe it or don't, but I love you. I would sacrifice living a normal life for you." She pleaded with her eyes as she looked across the divide at him. Hope gave her one last push. "Wouldn't you do the same for me?"

She read it in his face before he'd made his decision.

And the rejection sliced her heart in two before he even crossed to the door and walked away.

"What the hell?" Tia's voice rang out across the bar, slicing neatly through the murmur of casual conversations.

Across from where Gabriel sat, Henry's entire body stiffened.

Bastian whistled silently and cast his eyes down, rolling his beer bottle in his hands. "Uh-oh."

Gabriel barely noticed. He hadn't really been present this entire time, his whole body locked up with the effort not to betray the emotion rattling around inside of him.

I love you.

He'd known Henry would only hound him if he hadn't shown, so he'd dutifully reported to the bar and sat in silence as the other two traded friendly insults. If he could have left without arousing suspicion, he would have.

She didn't love him. It was impossible. A terrible thought. Terrifying. And so tempting his body trembled.

Desperate for relief, he looked up to see Tia barreling down on them, dressed in a violent red sweater and jeans ripped at the knee. Violent was the right word, he thought, as murder glinted hotly in her eyes. With another witch, he might have expected a physical manifestation of the temper, but not Tia Hightower. She stopped in front of their table, hands on hips.

"What do you think you're doing?" she shot at Henry.

He sent her a steely look. Just like that, the easygoing man transformed into a stiff, combative warlock. "Hello, Tia."

"You're drinking. At my bar."

"Seems like it. Why?" He arched one deliberate eyebrow. "Does it bother you?"

Gabriel swore he felt heat coming off her as she snapped, " You bother me."

"I understand. Old ties can be so hard to cut for some people." Gabriel knew when his friend was being deliberately baiting.

"I cut ties with you the second you didn't stand with me."

Henry's face quivered, the effort of restraining an expression.

Seeing it, Tia laughed harshly. "Of course, how could I forget? Can't possibly show too much emotion in front of anyone. Easier to walk away."

"I didn't walk away," he bit out.

"Yes. You. Did."

Bastian's sharp whistle cut through their debate and he made a time-out gesture. "Guys, chill before hex bags get thrown."

Tia smirked, tossed her hair back. "I wouldn't waste the ingredients on such a small man. And I mean that in every sense."

Bastian touched his forehead and then his lips in a symbol of prayer.

Given his own mood, Gabriel decided to interrupt. "Tia, this is not the appropriate setting." He locked down the instant of sudden fear when those blazing eyes turned on him. "I, ah, understand you and Henry have history but we're all adults."

"Yet to see evidence of that," Henry muttered.

"How droll." Tia crossed her arms, focused on Bastian. "Just because you have the bad taste to have this man as a friend doesn't mean I should suffer his presence in my bar."

"We're having a last drink with Goodnight."

Her gaze swung his way again. "You're leaving? What about Leah?"

His throat hurt. Everything did. It wasn't true. What she'd said.

She couldn't love him.

He couldn't let that thought surface, locked down on it like a drowning man desperate for air. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"I see his stupidity is rubbing off on you."

Henry's jaw clenched.

"I mean, is she all right with this?" she emphasized. "I won't let you hurt her, Goodnight."

Too late.

The memory of those perfect blue eyes shattered by his rejection chilled him to his marrow. He'd done that. And why?

Why?

When she'd spoken of going to the High Family, he'd been both elated and terrified out of his wits. To have her exposed like that. He couldn't stand it. Better to make her angry, as long as it kept her safe.

Except it wasn't anger in her eyes, at the end.

A mournful cry reverberated in his soul at the memory.

Tia looked at him sharply, as if she'd heard it. "You've already done something."

He took a shallow breath, gripping the table to maintain an even expression. "I reminded her that what we have is temporary. She...didn't take it well."

Tia's stare drilled into him. It might have been just them two as he fought the urge to explain. He owed Tia nothing. Even if Leah would need her when he went. When he left her.

He admitted defeat and closed his eyes.

"Good," he heard Tia say, causing him to flinch. "Leah deserves someone who'd fight for her, sacrifice anything, and let's face it, you're not that guy."

I would sacrifice for you. Wouldn't you do the same for me?

The statement was shocking; even more so was the answer that had whispered from his heart.

So, he'd left her before any damage could be done. It was safer that they stick to the rules they'd laid out. Safer for her.

For him.

Struck, he swallowed as those words dug inside him. Safer for him. Because...

Because it was safer to keep her at a distance. Because losing Leah would crush his heart.

Because...he loved her.

Nearby the chairs around an empty table flew out without warning, causing customers to squeak in surprise. Murmurs of confusion quickly followed.

Gabriel ignored it, their sounds, the hum of Tia's voice berating him for using magic.

All of it receded as he focused on the glowing truth.

He loved Leah.

His chest seized as their conversation tore through his mind. He'd fallen back on old habits. Attacked because he'd needed her to stay at a distance, panicked he'd lose someone else he loved if they got too close. But it was too late. She'd already slipped behind his barriers, become so integral that he couldn't imagine a day without her in it. And in return...he'd hurt her.

That pit in his stomach widened. An urge shoved through his body, to go to her, to fix it. But...

It wasn't simply a matter of loving each other; his world could be cutthroat. Even if the High Family accepted her, other witches wouldn't. Leah hated to be excluded, rejected, and she would be, time and time again.

She'd be welcomed in only to be left outside again.

As he sat there, the words of the others falling like misty rain upon his senses, Gabriel played over his every memory of Leah, from the balcony where she had coyly flirted with him, to the bar where she had openly challenged him, to another balcony, where she'd exposed her hidden pain for him. To the bedroom, to their fight, where once again she'd proven to be the stronger one.

And he knew what he had to do.

"We'll be okay, right?" Leah stroked a hand down Chuck's head as the Labrador sprawled across her lap, panting happily. She'd meant to only drop by his kennel on her way to updating the shelter's website and social media, but hadn't been there thirty seconds before the tears had started. She'd cried into his fur as he'd sat as her anchor, hating that she did so but unable to stop the flood. Her mom had always said crying was therapeutic, but the hole inside Leah still gaped, no better for the tears.

Her mom.

God, she hated this stupid secret even more now because even if Leah picked up the phone and called her, poured out her troubles, she couldn't really speak to her. Not about the real reason Gabriel was pushing her away.

She wasn't an idiot. Hurt might have buried her better sense for a minute, but she knew Gabriel. She knew what he did when he was protecting someone he cared about—he kept them away from any threat. He did it to Melly. He was doing it to her now.

Old insecurities tried to wedge in but she refused to let them. Gabriel wasn't cruel for no reason. That had been terror she'd seen on his face before he'd rebuffed her. Because he cared more than he wanted to. How many times had he said that he didn't want her hurt?

It was irritatingly, exasperatingly presumptuous of him to lock her out of any decision and she was so furious with him for it. Love was about trust, in her, in them . That they could do anything together.

But maybe he didn't love her enough to try.

And that was what kept her away from Toil and Trouble when she'd thought about going after him. She'd gone to him too many times. She'd put herself out there for him, in a way she'd never done for anyone. If he wanted her, he would have to come on his knees.

She focused on Chuck, pushing aside the whispering fear that Gabriel would crawl for nobody. "He's going to realize he needs you, too," she told him. "Idiot warlock." She pressed a noisy kiss to Chuck's head to hide the wobble in her voice. He grunted and squirmed until he lay on his back.

"What do you—" she began, startled when the lights went out.

They had a skylight so it wasn't completely pitch-black, but even so, all she could see were shapes and shadows.

"Perfect." A fuse must have blown. Or a power surge. Something expensive that would tie Sonny's decision to sell into a bow. The cherry on this fantastic day.

She maneuvered to her feet, hitching her phone out of her back pocket to turn the flashlight on. When she reached Chuck's door and felt him close behind her, she gently pushed him back with her free hand.

"Sorry, baby. You have to stay here."

Shutting the door behind her, she peered into the gloom and headed for where the fuse box was. She'd let Georgia, another volunteer, leave early, so she was the only one on-site before the next shift started.

Well, she was an independent woman, wasn't she? She could probably figure out what the problem was. She pushed open the door that led out of the dogs' section, the thin stream of her phone's flashlight a beam in front.

The next thing she knew she was sent sprawling, a hard blow to her cheek crashing her into the wall. Her head knocked into the concrete painfully, face throbbing where she'd been hit.

Dazed, she glanced up, saw the outline of a figure, his hands moving in a pattern she recognized. Magic.

Fear chilled her skin and she scrambled to move, to get away. A weapon, she needed a weapon. She staggered up, a wild thumping in her ears all she could hear.

At least until a hand gripped the back of her head, forcing her still. "You're just the right leverage," a man murmured, voice too low to make out who. " Incantartum. "

Instant lethargy hit her bloodstream. She wanted to fight—sleep was the enemy—but she was only human. Fragile after all.

Gabe , her mind called out. God, she wanted Gabriel.

Then she was lost to unconsciousness.