Chapter 20

He was waiting for me in the alcove, a dark shadow with the hood of his jacket pulled up.

I didn't know how he could stand to wear a coat in this weather. We'd first met on a rainy June night. Tonight, we were on day six of an August heatwave. Even now, shortly after midnight, the balmy warmth was oppressive, and I wore shorts and a loose black tank top, the straps of my red bra peeking out.

Slipping into the alcove, I leaned against the wall opposite him. He pushed his hood off, his dark hair mussed. His face was clear of cuts or bruises, and it struck me—not for the first time—that he was really good looking.

We studied each other, the muffled voices from within the building filling the silence.

"Did you manage it?" I asked.

Nodding, he withdrew a small object from his pocket and held it out. I took the tiny vial and held it up to the dim security light. A faintly green liquid sloshed inside the half-empty glass vessel.

"How much will it take?"

"A few drops," he answered. "It smells minty, so put it in something with strong flavor."

"Like coffee?"

His mouth curved up. "Coffee is perfect."

An answering grin flashed over my face. It seemed strange to smile while we discussed murdering my aunt, but I couldn't suppress my elation. Her death meant freedom from fear, pain, and misery. Freedom from a future that held nothing but suffering.

Her death meant a new future. That was scary too, but I wouldn't be alone.

I tucked the vial deep into my pocket with my switchblade. "What will happen when she drinks it?"

"Numbness in her face, then violent trembling, then convulsions and unconsciousness, then death. It'll start in less than a minute, and she'll be dead in ten." He shifted his weight. "I had to look it up. Never actually seen someone poisoned with it."

I gulped down slight nausea. "Did Bane notice anything when you stole it?"

"No." He grimaced. "Maybe. He was watching me this afternoon. He might suspect I'm up to something, but he'll never guess what. He has no idea about your spell. Did… did you bring it?" he asked hesitantly, as though afraid of my answer.

"Of course." I patted the front of my shirt. "I never take it off."

He relaxed. "You wear it all the time?"

"Yeah. My parents gave it to me, remember? To protect me."

His gaze drifted across my chest, then back up to my face. "What happened to your parents?"

My throat tightened. "They were helping search for a missing hiker in the mountains north of our home. They knew the area really well… but they never came back. Their bodies were found a few weeks later. It looked like an animal attack, but no one was sure what kind of animal."

"Probably a fae, then," he murmured.

I nodded, my hand closing in a fist over the pendant under my shirt. "What about your parents? Bane isn't your dad, is he?"

His face twisted in revulsion. "We're not related." He was quiet for a moment, his gaze sliding away from mine. "I don't remember my parents."

Cold tinged my veins. "Nothing?"

"Just… my father's name. That's it." He pushed his shoulders back. "Will you be okay without your artifact?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. There are no fae in the city to bother me."

"Not many," he agreed.

A twinge of hesitation stilled my hand, but I forced myself to reach for the chain around my neck. I tugged it up until the pendant came free—a dark brown river stone etched with a swirling design.

"That's it?" he breathed.

"Yep." I lifted the chain over my head. My neck felt naked without the slight pressure of the chain.

I held it out.

The boy took it with reverent hands. He ran his fingers across the etching, his eyes losing focus. "The magic in this is really powerful." He looked up at me, and his mouth fell open in sudden disbelief. "You're—why didn't you say you were—"

A drunken shout shattered the humid quiet. Someone was outside, near our alcove, too close.

The boy pulled me into the darkest corner of the alcove. We huddled in the shadows as another slurring voice called out. Scuffing, uneven footsteps. Laughter. A door slammed, and silence fell.

For a long moment, we didn't move, then let out relieved sighs in unison. His breath stirred my hair, and I shivered, aware of his warm hands gripping my upper arms, the chain of my pendant pressed against my skin.

Tugging the chain from his hand, I lifted it over his head, settled it against the back of his neck, then tucked the pendant beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Tomorrow night," I whispered, my hand resting on his chest over the hidden pendant, "we'll meet across the street in the alley. Ruth and Bane will be dead. We'll be free."

"Free," he repeated, his eyes closing. "What time?"

"I'm not sure. It'll depend on when Ruth has her after-dinner coffee."

He nodded. "I'll wait for you."

"I'll wait for you too." My fingers pressed into his chest. "All night."

"And then we'll leave this city together."

"Together."

His eyes met mine, and my heart jolted with sharp anticipation. He leaned down. Our lips brushed. My hand slid over his collarbone, fingers curling around the back of his neck. His mouth melded against mine.

Soft, slow kisses. So slow, because urgency pounded in both of us and we couldn't surrender to it. Fear ran through our blood, but we couldn't acknowledge it. Desperation choked us, but we had to keep breathing.

We kissed until I parted my lips and he tasted me. Heads tilting. Kisses deepening. My fingers slid up into his hair. His hands ran up my arms, then pulled me against his chest.

A door slammed nearby and we both jumped. Nervous. Edgy. Our eyes met. We didn't speak, no words needed. Parting from each other, we slipped out of the alcove. It took only a few tense minutes to sneak into the attic.

It was hot, stuffy, and even more humid than the air outside. In the corner farthest from the muffled voices leaking up from the den, he shrugged his jacket off and set it quietly on the dusty floorboards.

I was in his arms an instant later. Holding him. Kissing him. Our slow, hesitant pace broke. My hands ran up and down the front of his shirt. He caressed my back. Movements faster. Mouths locking. Breath coming fast and hard.

I couldn't stop touching him. Couldn't stop kissing him. Couldn't stop myself from sliding my hands under his shirt and touching his hot skin.

"Do you want to?" he whispered against my lips.

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Then he was kissing me harder. Then his hands were slipping under my tank top.

I peeled his shirt off, stroking and exploring his chest, lean but hard with muscle, my pendant hanging from his neck. And he pulled my shirt over my head, caressing my breasts, pushing up my bra, cupping me in his warm hands.

Then we were sinking down onto the scant padding of his jacket, our limbs entangled, our panting breaths and soft sounds hushed. Quiet need. Feverish desire. His mouth tasting me everywhere. My hands touching him everywhere.

Tomorrow, my life would change. But tonight, I was changing.

A stranger whose name I didn't know, his hot breath on my skin, kissing my belly as he tugged my shorts down my hips. A boy who'd somehow, so quickly, become more important than anyone else in my life. We would escape together, survive together. Be together.

My arms wound around his neck, my fingers gripping his hair as I arched up into him, pressing our bodies together, feeling his warmth and weight and presence. My heart pounding. Blood rushing. Vivid, awakened, alive.

I'd never surrendered to pain, to fear, to despair. But tonight, I would surrender to him—surrender everything.

My past, already hanging around his neck.

My present, electric with desire under his hands and mouth.

And my future, waiting to begin.