I was expecting it to be Miles, but it turns out he’s fine. Helping to mop up the mess as he smiles and says, “And that’s what you call acting. Viva Firenze!” He pumps his fist in the air.
“So really, you’re fine?” I hand him a clean towel, feeling bad for making him go through the motions when as soon as everyone leaves, I’ll just make it vanish and manifest a new one. “You’re not drunk?”
“Not at all! But the point is, you thought I was.”
I shrug. “The slurring, the loss of balance—all the signs were present and accounted for.”
He rolls up the towel, about to hand it to me when Jude appears by my side and takes it instead. “Laundry?” he asks, brow raised.
But I just shake my head and point toward the trash, looking at Miles as I ask, “So who did it, who brought the booze?”
“Oh, no.” He shakes his head and holds up his hands. “I’m sorry to break it to you, Ever, but this little get-together you orga nized, is also what’s known as a party. And even if you don’t serve it, it’ll still find its way in. You’ll get no information from me.” He clamps his lips shut, pulling the imaginary zipper that seals them, before adding, “I say you just ditch this old thing.” He points at the rug. “Seriously, I’ll help roll it up. All we have to do is move the furniture around and Sabine won’t even notice it’s gone.”
But I just shake my head, this vomit-covered rug is the least of my concerns now that Roman’s no longer playing along. Taking Haven on some mysterious appointment I can’t seem to crack, and what was that bit about us meeting up later? Was that a reference to the binding spell—or—something else?
Miles leans in to hug me, gathering me into his arms and giving me a really tight squeeze when he says, “Thanks for the party, Ever. And even though I don’t know what’s going on between you and Damen, I have one thing to say and I hope you’ll listen and take me seriously. Ready?” He quirks his brow and pulls away.
I shrug. My mind preoccupied, in some other place.
“You deserve to be happy.” He nods, gaze intense, focused on mine. “And if Jude makes you happy, then you shouldn’t feel bad about that.” He waits, waits for me to respond in some way, but when I don’t he adds, “Party’s pretty much over once someone hurls, right? So we’re gonna bolt. But we’ll get together before Florence, okay?”
I nod, watching as he and his friends all head for the door, calling, “Hey, Miles, did Haven or Roman mention where they’re going?”
Miles looks at me, brows merged when he says, “Fortune-teller.”
I squint, stomach sinking though I’ve no idea why.
“Remember the other day when she wanted to book one?”
I nod.
“She mentioned it to Roman and he arranged a private reading.”
“This—late?” I look to my wrist to confirm the time though I’m not wearing my watch.
But Miles just shrugs and heads for the car, making me wonder if I should head out too. Try to catch up with Roman and Haven and make sure she’s okay. But when I try to tune in to her energy again, I don’t get very far. In fact, I don’t get anything at all.
About to try again when Jude comes up and says, “You really need to ditch that rug. Smells awful.”
I nod, distracted, unsure what to do.
“You know what helps?”
“Coffee grounds,” I mumble, remembering how my mom used it once when Buttercup ate something bad and got sick in Riley’s room.
“Well, yeah, that, but I was thinking more like getting away from the stench. Always works for me.”
I look at him, his face lighting into a smile.
“Seriously.” He slips his arm through mine and leads me outside. “What’s the point of going to all that trouble, going all out with the decorations and food, doing all that you can for your friend’s going-away pool party, when you spend the entire night on the sidelines, watching, observing, but not once diving in?”
I look away. “The party was for Miles, not me.”
“Still.” Jude shakes his head, gazing at me in a way that sends a flood of calm through my system. “You’re looking a little stressed, and you know what kills stress, don’t you?” I glance at him, seeing him smile when he says, “Bubbles.”
“Bubbles?”
He points at the spa. “Bubbles.” Face serious, gaze fixed on mine.
I take a deep breath and look at the Jacuzzi, warm, welcoming, and yes, bubbling too. Watching as Jude grabs some towels and sets them by the edge, and figuring I’ve got nothing to lose, that it just might help clear my head enough to come up with a new plan, I turn my back and yank off my dress. A silly bout of modesty since I’ll be half naked soon, but still, facing him would feel too much like undressing.
Too much like the girl in the painting.
He heads for the edge and dips a toe in, eyes going wide in such a way that I can’t help but laugh.
“You sure about this?” I wrap my arms around my waist like I’m cold, when really I’m just trying to fend off his gaze. Seeing the way his aura sparks and flames as he takes me in, the way his cheeks flush when he quickly looks away.
“Definitely.” He nods, voice thick, rough, watching as I step into the Jacuzzi, at first wincing against the hot water then slowly easing in. Immersed in heat and bubbles, thinking this may be my smartest move yet.
I close my eyes and lean back, muscles loosening, relaxing, when Jude says, “Got room for one more?”
I squint, watching as he removes his shirt, taking in his expanse of chest, defined abs, trunks that hang low on his hips, making my way back up past his dimples and all the way to his eyes, two aqua pools I’ve known through the years. Watching as he moves forward, just about to step in when he remembers his phone in his pocket and drops it onto the towel.
“Whose decision was this?” He laughs, cringing against the steam and heat as he sits down beside me and stretches his legs, his foot accidentally landing on mine and letting it rest for a moment before pulling away. “Yeah, this is the life,” he says, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, then peeking at me when he adds, “Please tell me you use this all the time, that you don’t just forget it’s here ’til someone coaxes you in.”
“Is that what’s happening? I’m being coaxed?”
He smiles, that relaxed, easy grin lifting his face and lighting his eyes. “Seems like you needed a little convincing. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you can be a little intense.”
I swallow hard, wanting to look away, look anywhere but at him, but unable to leave his gaze.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that—being intense that is—”
His gaze deepens, boring into mine, luring me closer like a fish on his line, his face looming so near I close my eyes to meet it. Tired of fighting, tired of repeatedly pushing him away. Assuring myself it’s only a kiss. Jude’s kiss. Bastiaan’s kiss. Hoping it’ll tell me, once and for all, if Damen’s fears are in any way real.
His wave of calm energy comforting, tempering, as his lips part and his hand finds my knee, leaning toward each other, mouths about to merge when his ringing phone breaks our trance.
He pulls away, annoyance stamped on his face. “Should I get it?”
“I’m off duty.” I shrug. “You’re psychic, you tell me.”
He stands, turning toward his towel as I take in his form, the squared shoulders, the sharp V of his waist, stopping when I catch a glimpse of something at the small of his back. Something round, dark, barely discernible, but still—
He turns, facing me again, brows merged, hand over his other ear, when he says, “Hello?” and then, “Who?”
Smiling at me and shaking his head, but it’s too late.
I’ve seen it.
The unmistakable shape of a snake eating its own tail.
The Ouroboros.
The mythical symbol claimed by Roman’s tribe of immortal rogues, tattooed right on the small of Jude’s back.
I reach for my amulet, fingers fumbling but finding only skin. Wondering if this is somehow connected to my spell gone bad, if Roman has somehow arranged this.
“Ever? Yeah, she’s here—” He looks at me, making a face as he adds, “O-kay…”
He looks at me, arm extended, trying to pass on the phone.
But I just ignore it, moving out of the Jacuzzi so fast he shakes his head and blinks.
Grabbing my dress and yanking it over my head, feeling it dampen and cling to my skin, as my eyes blaze on his, wondering what the hell he’s up to.
“It’s for you,” he says, climbing out of the spa and trying to pass it again.
“Who is it?” I ask, voice barely a whisper. Mentally reciting the list of all seven chakras and their corresponding weaknesses, and trying to determine his.
“It’s Ava. Says she needs to speak to you. You okay?” He squints, head cocked to the side, concern clouding his face.
I step back, unsure of what’s happening but knowing it’s a long way from good. Going straight past his aura and trying to peer into his mind, but not getting much of anything thanks to the shield that he built.
“How’d she get your number?” I ask, gaze fixed on his.
“She used to work for me—remember?” He shrugs, hands in the air. “Ever—seriously—what’s this about?”
I look at him, heart racing, hands shaking, assuring myself I could take him if it comes to that. “Set the phone down.”
“What?”
“Set it down. Right there,” I point to a lounge chair, my gaze never once leaving his. “Then walk away quickly; don’t come anywhere near.”
He shoots me a look but does as I say. Backing toward the spa as I pick up the phone, still holding his gaze.
“Ever?” The voice is clipped, urgent, and definitely belongs to Ava. “Ever, I need you to listen, there’s no time to explain.” I stand there, numb, shell-shocked, still staring at Jude as she says, “Something’s happened to Haven—she’s in trouble—barely breathing—we’re—we’re gonna lose her if you don’t get to Roman’s right away.”
I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. “What’re you talking about? What’s going on?”
“I just need you to get here—now—hurry—before it’s too late!”
“Call nine-one-one!” I shout, hearing a muffled sound, a struggle of sorts, then Roman’s smooth voice moves in.
“There’ll be none of that, luv,” he purrs. “Now be a good sport and get over here quick. Your friend wanted to see a fortune-teller, and now, unfortunately, her future’s not looking so bright. She’s hanging by a thread, Ever. A thread, I tell you. So do the right thing and come over. Seems it’s time for you to solve the riddle.”
I drop the phone and make for the gate, Jude following behind, begging me to explain. And when he makes the mistake of grabbing my shoulder, I turn and smack him so hard he flies through the yard and crashes into the lounge chairs.
Gaping at me in a tangle of limbs and outdoor furniture, struggling to stand as I glance over my shoulder and say, “Grab your stuff and get out of here. I don’t want to see you when I return.”
Plunging through the gate and breaking into a run, hoping I can reach Haven before it’s too late.
