by Sadie Moss
“Yeah.” He nods quickly, his head bobbing up and down on his thin neck. “Anytime. I’ll be here.”
I think he’s the one trying for a joke this time, but just like mine earlier, it falls a little flat.
“Thank you, Raul,” I murmur as Asher and I stand. I reach across the table to rest my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for trying to help us. It means a lot.”
Asher looks even more exhausted and emotionally drained than I feel, but we hold hands as we follow the guard back to the prison entrance, both supporting and drawing comfort from each other.
On the way out of the facility, we’re given our phones back. While we were inside, we each got a text from Cam saying that Gwen’s finished, but it’s late, so they’ve headed back to the hotel again for the evening.
The drive is quiet, and our hands stay locked the entire way back—the only time we broke apart was to get into the car. By the time Asher and I reach the hotel, it’s after midnight. When we get up to the room, the other three are in their sleep clothes, looking both drained and antsy at the same time.
“Did you find anything?” I ask, hardly daring to hope, my heart in my throat.
Roman nods, and Cam gives a small smile.
“Yeah, Sin,” he says. “Gwen found us something.”
Chapter 18
I’m the first one up the next morning, and I don’t bother staying in bed. It’s only six a.m., but I know I won’t be able to fall back asleep, and I won’t be able to stay still either.
I decide to let the guys sleep for a little while longer. There’s not a lot we can do to pursue the lead Gwen gave us until a more reasonable hour anyway. In the meantime, I can do some research online on the design Asher got from Raul. Maybe I can find something.
First, though, I need to hop in the shower. I went straight to bed last night, exhausted, and I want to feel a little refreshed as I face the day.
I slip inside, carefully closing the bathroom door before I turn on the light so I don’t disturb anyone. Roman is a horribly light sleeper, and so is Dmitri. Cam sleeps like a fucking brick though—it’s hilarious.
The hot water feels so damn good, waking me up and soothing me all at the same time, helping me feel like I might actually be able to handle what’s in store.
Dammit. We’ve only got a few days left. They’re ticking by way too fast, and I can’t keep up, and we’re barely getting anywhere—
The bathroom door opens, and to my surprise, Cam pokes his head in.
“Hey, Sin. Want me to help you scrub your back?”
My spiraling thoughts screech to a halt as a laugh bursts from my lips. I think he used a line like that on me in my second semester, before we were all together, before I even knew quite what we were. I’m not sure if he’s saying it now because he remembers using it before, or if that’s his go-to line when he wants to hop in the shower with someone.
But either way, I know my answer without even having to think about it.
“Get in here.”
I push on the foggy glass door of the shower, holding it open as he quickly shucks his pants and shirt and steps inside.
God, sometimes I forget how comforting Cam is. He hasn’t even said anything except his cheesy back scrubbing line, but just his presence is already making my bunched muscles unknot. I’m so fucking glad he woke up and decided to join me.
At that thought, my brows pull together. “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?”
I don’t know how that would even be possible without inviting a twelve-piece band to parade around the room, but you never know.
“Nah.” He grins, reaching for the small bottle of soap on the shelf built into the tile wall. “I was already awake. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, and I just couldn’t get it to stop.”
He pours some soap into his hand and then rubs his palms together, working up a lather. When they’re covered in bubbles, he starts at my neck and shoulders, massaging the soap gently into my skin.
“Yeah.” I sigh, letting my eyelids droop at the feel of his large hands caressing me, slippery with soap and water. “Same. There’s just so much. So much riding on this. So much against us. So—”
Before I can finish, Cam’s lips capture mine in a gentle kiss. When he pulls away, his blue eyes study me seriously. “Do you really wanna talk about it, Sin?”
God, he knows me so fucking well.
Reaching out, I pull him a little closer to me, then reach for the soap too. “Nope. I don’t. Not at all. For the duration of this shower, I just want to help you scrub your back.”
“Thought so.”
He kisses me again, slow and deep, as his hands continue to glide over me, soaping up my breasts, teasing my nipples, running along my sides and over the swell of my hips.
I sink into our kiss, going by feel instead of sight as I pour some soap into my open palm and begin to lather him up too, paying particular attention to my favorite bits—the smooth planes of his pecs, the hard muscles of his biceps, every single dip and bump of his six pack.
He must be focusing on his favorite bits too, because he spends an awfully long time cleaning my boobs, to the point where I’m about to make a joke about how shiny they’ll be when he’s done. But I can’t quite bring myself to break our kiss, even to tease him. It feels too good. Sexy and soothing all at once.
When my hands move even lower, wrapping around the hard length of his cock, he thrusts into my grip. And when I let go and hook my arms around the back of his neck, he lifts me easily in his arms, gripping my thighs in his large hands and stepping forward to bring us both under the spray of water. His thick cock finds my pussy, and he slides into me.
We both sigh, twin sounds of arousal and contentment, and he pulls his head back a little to meet my gaze.
“You know, what we all did the other night was amazing. That was one of the hottest fucking nights of my life. But I like this too, Sin. So much. Just me and you.”
My heart does a little thu-thump against my ribs, and I shoot him a lopsided grin, speaking past the sudden lump in my throat.
“Same. On both counts.” I rest my elbows on his shoulders, running my fingers through his wet blond hair as my chest presses against his. “I’m so glad I have you in my life. The four of you separately, and the four of you together. I love you, Cam.”
His smile is radiant, and it disappears only when he drops his head to claim another kiss.
Our fuck is slow and wet and languid.
Maybe it’s because we both know that as soon as we get out of the shower, we’ll have to think about the challenges and desperate odds that face us again.
Or maybe it’s because we’re both starting to realize that this thing between us—this love between us—is a forever kind of love.
And that means we have all the time in the world.
I knew it would happen, but I’m still surprised at how the weight of my worries hits me like an almost physical force as soon as Cam and I leave the bathroom—having gotten squeaky clean and just a little bit dirty.
The same thing seems to happen to him, because I can see his muscles bunching, his shoulders tightening up, as we rejoin the others in the hotel room.
Our shower lasted long enough that everyone’s awake by now, so once the other three are ready to go, we head out.
Thanks to Gwen, we have a list of locations that the button’s been to recently. I had expected some far-flung places, and wasn’t looking forward to flying to D.C. or New York or—God forbid—across the ocean, but it turns out all of the locations are in Portland.
Thinking about it sends a chill up my spine. That means that this guy has been nearby, lurking, this entire time. What else has he been up to? Did he go to my bar? My old apartment? Could I have passed by him on the street while I was shopping with Maddy and not even known it?
It’s sickening and terrifying. And I don’t know what to do with that fear other than use it as motivation to track this guy down and make sure he can’t get up to
this bullshit ever again.
It would be helpful if the button could lead us right to his lair—if he even has a lair. Is that an actual thing, or just something from comic books? But Gwen said there must be some kind of anti-magic wards around it or something, because she couldn’t track any kind of permanent location or residence.
So instead we’re going to visit all the other places Gwen found for us. Following in the guy’s footsteps, so to speak.
Yeah, it feels about as creepy as it sounds. The plan—or, well, the hope, let’s be honest—is that someone at one of those places can give us a good idea of who he is and what he’s up to, maybe even a name and his home address. Or maybe we’ll just run into him, and he’ll kick our asses and we’ll die and it’ll all be over.
I’m feeling a little on edge, in case you couldn’t tell.
We stop by a few of the places—some of them are pretty generic, like an auto repair store and a coffee shop.
I’m hopeful that one of the baristas at the coffee shop might know the guy if he was a regular. I bartended for several years, and I know it’s not as easy to recognize someone as you might think when you see tons of customers every day. But you do get to notice your regulars, so if our mystery man came here a lot, maybe someone will remember him.
But, no such luck.
“It could be he had some kind of charm or enchantment on him so that they wouldn’t be able to recall him,” Asher points out as we leave a bookstore in the magical area of Portland.
“It’s odd,” I note, scrunching my face up. “Half of the locations are in the magical district, but on the fringes, sort of. And the other half are in non-magical areas.”
“You think he’s got something against the magical community in general?” Cam asks.
“I’m not sure. Could be he just wants to escape detection.”
I know I didn’t spend a lot of time in the magical community, growing up. I didn’t have any magic as far as Mom knew, and she kind of wanted to keep a low profile after Dad left. He was a bigwig in the magical world even then, and I think Mom just wanted to raise her two kids in peace and avoid scandal or people asking nosy questions.
After Mom died, I admit, I was bitter. I was angry at my dad and the magical community in general, so I stayed away.
Could this guy feel the same? Or maybe he just doesn’t want to mix with magical society until he knows that all the “unclean” Unpredictables are gone from it? After all, once you graduate, you get your cuff taken off—and without that marker, it’s harder to tell an Unpredictable from any other kind of magic user unless you actually see them do magic.
“It doesn’t help we’ve got no description either,” Dmitri points out, his tone grouchy. “You can’t just go into a bar and say, ‘hey, I’m looking for a man.” He gestures around us. “That’s half the population.”
The rest of us share a look as we get into the car to head to the next spot on Gwen’s list. Roman’s driving and Asher’s in front, with Cam, then me, then Dmitri in the back. Dmitri’s been extra on edge lately, and at first I thought it was just the whole pressure to hunt down this asshole thing, but now I’m wondering if it’s something else too.
“Hey. Have you heard from your parents?” I ask quietly.
Dmitri shakes his head. “I think…” He blows out a breath. “I might be crazy. I’m open to that possibility. In fact, I hope that’s the fucking truth—that I’m paranoid and crazy. But I think my parents were behind the pressure on the Circuit to close Griffin.”
“What?” I hiss, struggling to keep from shouting in the closed space of the car.
He nods, his dark eyes shining with anger. “They’ve been pissed about the wedding. Not just angry. Petty. Small-minded. They’ve always been that way. I’m not surprised that’s how they’re handling the whole thing. But they’ve also used it to let their prejudice against Unpredictables become even stronger.”
I grab his hand, wrapping it in both of mine as the car goes quiet. I can see his neck muscles straining, and I have a feeling he could power a small city with all the agitated energy coursing through him right now.
“Right before I left the wedding, my dad told me that the academy had poisoned my mind.” His lip curls. “He wanted someone to blame, of course. I don’t think he can handle the idea that he’s been so awful his kid would rather walk out of his life than do what he says for another damn second. But he said this was the school’s fault. That I had to learn my place. Learn the rules.”
“Jesus, Dmitri.” My voice is thick as I try to keep my own anger under control. “That’s awful.”
“They’ve got plenty of influence. Money. Power. And nobody does revenge like my dad. He’s crushed entire business empires before.” His face is dark, thunderous, like a storm cloud. “If I ever see him again…”
His voice trails off. Cam reaches an arm around my shoulder to put his hand on Dmitri’s arm, squeezing gently in solidarity.
I clutch his hand harder. “This is an asshole move,” I tell him. “No doubt about that. They’re pricks. But it’s not your fault, you know that, right? You didn’t make your parents into these kinds of people. And caving to them wouldn’t have been any better. You would’ve been miserable, and so would everyone else because they could feel how miserable you were, and I bet your parents would’ve wanted to try and close down the school at some point anyway. Their prejudice would’ve gotten worse, it just might have taken longer, and that’s not because of you. That hatred, that close-mindedness, that’s on them.”
Dmitri nods, and the tension in his face loosens a little. He doesn’t suddenly smile as if all his sins are absolved or whatever—but he does look like a bit of the weight has lifted off his shoulders.
“Too bad you don’t have their money, though,” Cam says. “That would be helpful.” He winks at Dmitri, clearly joking.
Dmitri rolls his eyes. “I don’t want money from them. I want money that I actually earned, not something that was just given to me. And I know my father got it through exploiting and using others. Not exactly a legacy I want to inherit. Even if I didn’t do any of the things that earned it, I’d still benefit from those things. Doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Welp, I guess that means Roman has to be our sugar daddy now.” Cam leans forward in his seat and bats his eyelashes exaggeratedly at Roman in the rearview mirror. “Right?”
“Sure thing, snookums,” Roman says, deadpan.
I laugh so hard I almost choke on my own spit as Cam collapses into hysterics. I see the corner of Roman’s mouth tick upward into an almost-smirk, and I know he’s pleased with himself for thinking up that remark.
For a moment, the mood lightens, and I grin at them all. Asher’s chuckling to himself, and even Dmitri has sly amusement in his eyes as his death-grip on my hand relaxes a little.
Then Roman puts on his turn signal and pulls up to the curb in front of our destination.
The mood drops again at once.
This is the last place on the list—the final location Gwen was able to track with the button.
I lean over Dmitri to peer out the window.
If we fail here, then we’ve reached a dead end. And all this running around Portland will have just been the five of us chasing our tails while the bad guy gets to do whatever he pleases. He’s probably laughing at us right now, wondering how five people could be so goddamn useless at this.
Hell, I’m shocked that we could all be so goddamn useless at this. Roman spent his formative years tracking down necromancers who broke laws and things like that with his mentor. Asher’s a hugely powerful mind reader. Cam’s resourceful thanks to growing up without his parents, I like to think I’m no slouch, and Dmitri has connections in spite of his fight with his parents.
You’d think we’d be able to make more headway than this.
But here we are. Last chance. Either we figure out who this guy is here, pick up some other lead to follow, or we go home and accept defeat.
And I am n
ot accepting defeat.
Chapter 19
The last location on Gwen’s list?
It’s a dry cleaner.
At this point, I’ll be honest, I’m kind of worried we might be tracking the wrong guy.
“Are we sure this button doesn’t belong to some random dude who just happened to be on that roof?” I ask, chewing my lip as we gather on the sidewalk outside the small establishment.
“Why would anyone else be up there?” Cam argues, not for the first time. We’ve had some variation of this conversation multiple times today.
“Maybe a bird picked it up and then dropped it later?” Asher waggles his head back and forth as he considers the plausibility of his own theory.
“All the places we’ve been to have been such… ordinary places. A coffee shop, an auto repair place, a bookstore. None of them sound like places someone who’s plotting against an entire subset of magic users would go to—I mean, yeah, sure, all bad guys need to buy groceries, right? But this is… I don’t know. What if this is just an ordinary person, and we have it all wrong? This is someone with a regular, boring routine.”
“Maybe we do have it wrong,” Roman acknowledges. “But we have no way of knowing.”
“Even if we’re wrong and this is someone else, it’s better that we’re tracking it down instead of sitting around.” Cam wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me into his side, his sandalwood scent filling my senses like a balm. “We won’t know until we actually track him down, so that’s what we’re doing, right?”
“Even bad guys need to dry clean their suits,” Asher points out.
Dmitri rolls his eyes.
None of us are sure, and that makes me even more nervous. I would’ve thought that Roman, at least, would have some idea, some certainty, but… nope. We’re all flying blind.
Great.
Well, there’s nothing else for it. I lean up to press a kiss to Cam’s cheek, silently thanking him for the support, then step forward and push open the door to the shop, making the little bell over the door jingle. A moment later, I hear the men enter behind me.
