Heart clogging my throat, I forced my thumbs to type out the rest before I lost my nerve.
>You’re the best friend I’ve ever had too.
The girl I had been thought she would remain best friends with Grier for life, but Grier hadn’t known Amelie half as well as she thought. That friendship shaped their formative years, but it had been superficial in so many ways.
Bishop knew me. Good, bad, ugly. He had seen it all. Bit by bit, he was revealing his dark side too. That required an investment of trust that would bankrupt most friendships, but we had paid the dues. I wasn’t going to lose him. Not to the coven. Not to anything, if I could help it. And definitely not tonight.
Powering down my phone, hoping the magic exposure hadn’t fried it, I put it away.
“The coven has launched their assault on the Faraday.”
Midas wrapped his palm around the back of my neck. “The enforcers will keep them safe.”
“For how long?” I leaned into his hold but then withdrew. “That’s what worries me.”
“The second I sign a lease, this happens,” Remy grumbled. “Moving near you was a mistake.”
Another time, I would have laughed and meant it, but I was too heartsick.
“Yeah, well,” I tried to joke back, “you did get a newly renovated apartment out of the deal.”
“The fact it got a facelift due to a massive explosion should have tipped me off.”
Midas gave her a flat look, but he didn’t burst into his favorite song, the one with a chorus about how many times I had been blown up, in great detail. For his silence, I was grateful.
“I only have myself to blame,” she agreed. “Good thing I haven’t unpacked my trash bags yet.”
The reminder of her move-in status made me think of Lillian. “Your roomie will be okay?”
“I doubt they’ll care about a potted plant,” she said, touching the flower in her hair. “Lil will be fine.”
Ambrose, who had finished his assessment, turned to us. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Yes.” I took Midas by the hand. “Let’s do this.”
With a nod, Ambrose began the process of breaking down the faegate and devouring its magic. He ought to have swelled like a tick ready to pop, that was how I felt, but thankfully none of us exploded from the magical overload as the second faegate’s mirror-center winked out for good.
“You appear to be in pain.” Ambrose dusted his hands. “Perhaps I miscalculated.”
“Perish the thought.” I rubbed my belly, though my whole body ached. “How fast can you digest this?”
“Not fast enough unless I exert myself.” A twist of shadowy lips conveyed his annoyance at being wrong, a novel experience for him. “Our proximity to Faerie is accelerating my transformation from shadow to…let us call it a more substantial state of being. As I become more tangible, I can hold less magic.”
“We can still Stairmaster it away, though, right?”
“Yes.” He cast me a sideways glance. “I will cardio off the excess.”
Skin tingling, I resisted the urge to scratch an invisible itch. “How long will that take?”
“Ten flights ought to do it.” He dropped his gaze to his feet. “Will you join me?”
As much as I hated to work up a sweat again, the vulnerable note in his voice suckered me in. “Sure.”
Remy and Midas took their cues from us and began their descent while Ambrose and I began our ascent.
Perhaps to balance the ledger between us, Ambrose taught me a new trick that left me grinning as we caught up to the others.
“What do you have to smile about?” Remy wrinkled her nose at me. “You’re sweating buckets.”
“For your information—” I wiped my face then flicked my fingers at her, “—I’m a naturally happy person.”
“How are you feeling?” Midas steadied me. “You’re…glowing.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”
The glow was news to me, but I couldn’t decide if it was happiness or a side effect, and I didn’t care.
“First,” I panted, “tell me how you feel.”
“Caffeinated.”
A laugh burst out of me, and I patted his cheek. “Good.”
Narrowing his eyes on my face, he asked, “What did you do?”
“I syphoned off you.” I buffed my nails on my tee. “Ambrose taught me how.”
A slight furrow dug in across his forehead, and I could sympathize.
On the one hand, Ambrose was a fountain of necromantic knowledge, and he had the power to back up his lifetimes of study. He was an invaluable asset.
On the other, Ambrose was never as powerful as when I leaned on his magic, his know-how, or his advice. Dependence on him was a deadly liability.
As much as I wanted to believe Ambrose was Team Hadley all the way, he had access to unlimited power on this trip. He could eat, burn off the calories, then gorge again over and over. Until we let our guards down, until we let him feast to the point his will rivaled mine, until I went down hard the one time he didn’t catch me.
“How weird is it to be one-third of a thrupple?” Remy glanced between us all. “I have trouble committing to rubber band colors for my braces, but you’re with two guys. One of them is in you twenty-four/seven.”
“I’m not with two guys.” I jerked upright. “I’m just bonded…to two guys…at the same…” I waved my hand. “Those are technicalities. Stop being a perv.”
“Hey,” she said, setting off again, “I had nothing else to do but watch and wonder.”
“I don’t experience sexual gratification.”
The three of us went stone-still as Ambrose chimed in, and I wished I had gone stone-deaf too.
“I admit,” he enlightened us. “I was curious if I would develop an appetite to rival Hadley’s once she and her mate became sexually active, but no. The act itself generates a purely physical pleasure. As I am not a physical being, I don’t experience it in any meaningful way.” He turned toward me, and I swear I caught the arch of a brow. “However, there are certain rites that can be performed while—”
“I’m willing to compromise,” I allowed, “but I’m not cooking up sex magic for your dinner.”
Frowning hard at him, Remy asked, “Hunger is the only emotion you experience?”
Hunger wasn’t an emotion. It was a drive, a primitive need that must be met. Not a feeling.
“I am a devourer.” He rolled a shoulder. “Hunger is all I know, all I am.”
A worrisome pinch in my chest threatened to make me sympathize with Ambrose.
He was more than that. He was cunning, sly, and ruthless. Hunger was the least of him. But that wasn’t exactly a positive endorsement of his personality traits, so I didn’t volunteer them. I wasn’t sure he had feelings, but he was good at miming them, and I had to wonder if he wouldn’t develop them if he stuck with me a few decades.
“That’s a good thing.” I patted him on the back, and a corresponding tingle hit my shoulder. “You’re the bottomless stomach the world needs right now.”
Hard to tell, without distinct features, but I swear he smiled, and it defined his lips in an alarming way.