Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (49 page)

Half an hour into our unnaturally fast run, I could feel myself sweating and my heart racing. Before I knew what was happening, I tripped over a rock and went down. Lincoln, who had been cruising a few paces ahead, stopped and was at my side in an instant.

“Are you okay?” he asked, putting his hand on my back only to

then quickly move it away.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, brushing myself off, trying hard not to

remember the last time I found myself lying facedown in the bush.

Lincoln’s eyes went wide, as if seeing me in a different light.

“You’re not well,” he said, putting his hand on my forehead, upset with me.

“I’m okay,” I lied, but I couldn’t slow my breathing enough to

be convincing.

“Why didn’t you say— ” But then he stopped, remembering

who he was talking to. “You’re still feeling the effects of last night.” I stood up but had to lean on him a little. My arm and shoulder rested into his chest and I wanted to sink even farther, to let myself go. He supported me, as always, but I could feel he was

keeping a distance.

Because
of
the
kiss.

I closed my eyes briefly, then took a step away.

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“I’m good, just a little tired. I can go on; just give me a minute.” He studied me for a moment before giving me a small smile.

“You know, I forgot the New Yorkers are arriving tomorrow. We’ve probably done fifteen k. That’s enough for today; they’ll want you fresh for tomorrow. How about we grab some dinner and I take

you back to yours? I’m starving anyway.”

He was giving me an out. I didn’t have to admit I wasn’t feeling good or that I wasn’t up to it. I nodded, unable to say it out loud, knowing my agreement was still a semi-admission. Of course, he

didn’t push it.

As we walked back to the car, Lincoln paused at regular inter-

vals. He mixed it up, stopping to tie his shoe or have a drink. Once, he even said he wanted to look at the view. Every time, I knew he was doing it to giving me a moment to rest.

We detoured on the way back to my place to get dinner supplies.

When Lincoln says we’ll just grab something on the way, he means grab something to cook. He isn’t big on takeout and knows there is zero likelihood of finding anything edible and unexpired at my place— other than coffee and milk, that is.

Dad wasn’t home when we arrived, which was no surprise to

either one of us. Lincoln set about organizing his ingredients and the kitchen. I think he’s actually the only person who’s ever cooked a proper meal there. Dad and I are useless.

After I had showered and changed into clean sweats and a

T- shirt, I felt much better and sat down to a plate of grilled fish and vegetables with a lemon-butter sauce. Lincoln, who had changed

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into a pair of jeans and a fresh black T- shirt, poured me a Coke and grabbed himself his second beer.

“So I guess Griffin doesn’t need you tonight,” I said, watching as he raised the bottle to his lips, the silver finish of his wristbands glinting under the downlights. He never took them off anymore.

He saw no point now. I was jealous he had the choice.

It was unlike him to have a second beer. Usually, he is so

restrained, just in case we get called out or something. He turned his full attention to me for the first time since I’d come back in the room. Something flickered across his face, his eyes staying on my wet hair.

“No. I think we’re all clear. He’s out of town tonight anyway.

He’s gone to pick up Magda.”

Oh, great.

I just gave a nod. “So, did you tell Griffin about those exiles last night? About what they said and stuff ?”

Lincoln took another sip. “Yeah, I filled him in on what

happened. How’s your fish?”

“Good. Thanks.”

Lincoln talked me through a few exercises he wanted to do over

the coming weeks, if we could fit them into the schedule around school, the new Grigori timetable, and hunting. I nodded, happy to do whatever, as long as I would get to be around him.

I yawned when we started clearing away the plates, and Lincoln

took that as his cue, grabbing his keys.

“You need to rest.”

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But before I could tell him not to leave or he could say he was going, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“It’s Dapper,” he snapped, gruffly. His hostility actually came through on the phone.

“Oh. Hi.”

Where
did
he
get
my
number?

“Listen, you wanted me to tell you all when there was a

problem— you got it. Get your asses down here. Now!” He hung up.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it in horror.

“Who was that?” Lincoln asked.

I sighed. So much for rest. “Dapper. We have to go back to

Hades.”

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chapter
five

“Change is not made without inconvenience, even from worse

to better.”

RIChaRd hooKeR

When we walked into Hades, I didn’t escape another look of dis-

approval from the same bouncer who had been there the night

before. Clearly, I wasn’t dressing to his standards. I wondered what he would do if he were actually able to see the big- ass dagger hanging from my waist. Actually, by the looks of him, he’d probably smile.

We made our way to the bar, which wasn’t easy. It was peak time and the place was packed with partygoers who had already been

drinking for a good few hours. Dapper was behind the bar, serving.

He was chatting to some random, having a laugh. When he saw us, his smile vanished and I actually heard him grunt.

Lovely
.

“I’m too busy for this,” he said to us, looking down to the other end of the bar, which appeared surprisingly quiet. “I called your Entice.indd 44

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boss man. He gave me your number. You made him, you deal with

him. Whatever you do, do it somewhere else.”

We went to the quiet end of the bar and quickly discovered what was keeping it desolate. I’m not sure if I smelled his foul smell or heard his foul words first. Either way, it wasn’t the first time that I had experienced them both. I looked at Lincoln. He rolled his eyes and went over to where Onyx was sitting. The closest table had two girls sitting at it and one of them was crying. I figured there was a good chance it was Onyx’s handiwork.

“Onyx, you have to leave,” Lincoln called over the music.

Onyx looked up for a very brief moment. He was so drunk I

didn’t know how he was managing to balance on the barstool.

“Onyx!” I yelled, trying to get his full attention.

“You! You did this to me,” he slurred.

“What?” I asked.

“Made me
this
. Nothing. Why didn’t you just send me back?” The truth? At the time, I had no other choice. I was injured

and I didn’t have my dagger. He was going to kill me, so leaving him powerless had been my only option. But now, knowing the

dagger difficulties I’d been having, the answer didn’t seem quite so simple. Maybe I wouldn’t have been able to kill him, even if I’d been armed.

“Onyx, you’re human, not nothing. You got away with doing a

lot of
really
horrific things. You should be in jail or something, but you’re not. You should be happy to have another chance.”

He said something obscene under his breath.

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When I turned to Lincoln, he was watching me. I tried to stay

neutral, but he saw through me. I could never get anything past him.

“If you blame yourself for this, you’re crazy, Violet.” He put a hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t blame myself. I just know that he was supposed to be

entitled to a choice. I took that from him. He wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for me.”

“Neither would we.” He watched me for a moment longer, then we

both looked over at Onyx, the problem we seemed to have inherited.

“You’re not going to be able to walk away, are you?” Lincoln

asked, but as he looked back at me, tilting his head slightly, he didn’t need my answer. Instead, he just nodded.

“Come on,” he said, heading back toward Dapper.

“What are you going to do?”

He smiled. “Just watch out for flying glasses.”

He wasn’t wrong. When Lincoln suggested to Dapper that

Onyx spend a couple of nights in his staff apartment, more than glasses were thrown. His ammunition consisted mostly of words,

but there were also half a dozen limes, a pestle (without the mortar, thank God!), and half a bucket of ice. By the time he’d finished, the area around Lincoln had cleared to a good fifteen- foot diameter, which was a fair space in a bar so full. Nearby, girls were squealing while guys were cheering Dapper.

“It’d only be for a night or two,” Lincoln tried to reason,

brushing ice shards out of his hair and patting down his clothes.

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his back. Lincoln turned around and she smiled sweetly. I rolled my eyes.

“Ah, thanks, I’ve got it,” he said, stepping out of her reach. He turned back to Dapper and I was sure he purposely avoided my

eyes. “We have nowhere else to send him. He’ll behave himself.

Well, at least you’ll be able to close him away upstairs. And…we’ll owe you one?”

I didn’t think Lincoln had a chance when Dapper grabbed a

cloth and started cleaning down the bar, ignoring him. I turned to walk away but Lincoln grabbed my hand. “Just wait a minute,” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded, totally preoccupied with his hand that was still

holding mine and was somehow burning a hole through me. Just

as quickly he let it go without looking at me again. I bit my lip.

I
didn’t think they could, but things are getting harder.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Dapper returned his attention to us.

“Two nights, no more. If he’s in the bar, he has to pay, and if he gets drunk, he has to go upstairs and…two nights! That’s it!”

Stranger things have happened, and to me, but this was impres-

sive. It seemed Dapper had a soft spot after all, and it was the lovely Lincoln who brought it out in him. Steph was going to have a field day theorizing this one.

We helped a very ungrateful, but thankfully unaware, Onyx

upstairs and into the staff apartment. It was a studio with a little kitchenette and a sofa that folded out to a bed. Plain but nice.

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The staff clearly didn’t use it much because everything was still in good condition.

Lincoln and I contemplated trying to get Onyx into a shower,

or at least undressed, for about a millisecond before we both held back the gag reflex and dropped him on the fold-out bed. There are some things that even the best of us cannot do.

As we made for the door, Onyx flopped over onto his back and

laughed his high- pitched cackle. “He’ll come for you, you know.” Lincoln spun around so fast he was back beside Onyx in a flash.

“What are you talking about?”

“Not talking about you.”

I had a bad feeling about this. “
Who
is coming for me?” I asked, staying by the door.

“Last time I saw him, he was only interested in two things.

Funny how closely his interests mirror both of yours. Clearly,” he addressed me, “you’re— pathetically— chasing the Grigori list.” His smile widened as he turned to Lincoln. “And we all know what

you’re most interested in.” He glanced back in my direction.

I ignored his provocation and absorbed what he was really

saying. “When did you see him?” I asked. The hairs on my arms

prickled and a thrill ran through me. I didn’t know if it was dread or anticipation. Phoenix.

“Just before he left. He found me, brought me some whiskey.”

He gave an exaggerated nod and almost rolled off the bed.

“What did he want?” I asked, my throat tightening with

each word.

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“To know what I knew about the Scriptures and…you.”

I took a step toward him. I wanted to know more. But Lincoln

pulled me back.

“You’re insane, Onyx.” Lincoln looked at me. “He doesn’t know

what he’s talking about. He just wants to upset you. Phoenix is gone. Let’s go.”