“You have your phone on you, right?” he asked as we reached the mouth of the park. I nodded, pulling it out of my back pocket. “Want me to order a pickup?”
“Yep.” The entrance spotlights weren’t nearly bright enough to minimize the glare of the phone, so I eagerly handed it over.
As he opened up the app, I let my gaze drift over him. I wondered what the driver was going to think when he climbed into the car shirtless. My gaze got a little hung up on the breadth of his shoulders, the clearly delineated lines of his chest, and lower, to the hint of tight, coiled muscles mostly hidden by the night. Zayne had always been in the kind of shape that made me feel like I needed to add cardio or sit-ups to my nonexistent workout routine. I trained to fight. That was enough exercise for me, but his body was proof that it could cash whatever check his mouth was writing.
And I knew I was definitely staring at Zayne a little too intensely, but I wasn’t ogling him because he was pretty to look at. That was something I’d done a time or a hundred in the past, but I was staring at him now because he was here and he was okay. The disbelief wasn’t going to go away any time soon.
Dragging my gaze back to his face, I thought about how his features still were far clearer than they had been before. In this kind of light, I would’ve never been able to make out the slash of his brow or the set of his lips. That hadn’t been my imagination. It had to be because of what he was, of the grace inside him. Nothing else around me seemed more clear. I couldn’t remember what it was like when I saw my father. Those rare visits were all too brief, and I’d had other concerns when I’d been with Gabriel, like staying alive for example, and when I met the Throne. But when I thought about it, I had seen those creepy eyes in the Throne’s wings. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to see something that small at that distance.
Halfway through ordering an Uber, Zayne’s fingers stilled and he looked over at me.
“Sorry.” I flushed. “I was staring at you like a total creeper.”
“You should know by now that I have no problem with you staring at me.” He handed my phone over, and after I slid it into my back pocket, he caught my hand and tugged me against his chest, and I burrowed in like a barnacle. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I started to lift my head.
“For what?” he repeated with a low laugh as he cupped the back of my head, keeping me there, with my cheek above his heart. “For leaving you.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Zayne. It’s not like you chose to.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make it easier knowing that you’ve been through Hell, physically and mentally, and I couldn’t be there for you.” His next breath was ragged. “I wanted to go to you as soon as I realized I could, but when I did, well, that sure as Hell didn’t help.”
I had questions about exactly what happened to him, but they’d have to wait. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
“Agreed.” His fingers curled through my hair. “And I’m not going to leave you. Never again, Trin. Never.”
18
The ride to the apartment was...interesting.
The driver, an older man, kept glancing in the back seat, and I didn’t think it had much to do with Zayne being shirtless or the fact I was attached to his side like we were pieces of Velcro. There was a nervousness in the older man’s movements and chatter that ended as abruptly as it started.
When the man’s eyes weren’t on the road or darting to the back seat, they were on the gently swinging cross hanging from his rearview mirror.
I wondered if the man sensed something...otherworldly about Zayne. I knew it wasn’t me. I had no impact on humans. People also never seemed to realize when they were with Wardens in their human form, but there was definitely an...energy around Zayne that hadn’t been there before.
It was hard to explain, but it reminded me of how the air charged and became eerily still right before a terrible storm or in the eye of a hurricane. That’s what it felt like. There was a stillness to Zayne even as he continuously ran his fingertips up and down my arm, one that made the air around him feel as if it was seconds away from exploding into violent energy. As if the very atmosphere itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what he was going to do.
It was kind of cool.
And a little scary.
On the way, I did send Dez a quick text letting him know that Zayne was all right, and that we’d call him in a bit. My phone immediately lit up with a dozen or so silent texts I didn’t get a chance to respond to because Zayne had dipped his head and pressed his lips to my temple, and the sweet kiss nearly sent me into a complete breakdown.
I think the driver took his first real breath when we pulled up to the apartment building and Zayne opened the door. As I climbed out, I saw the driver’s gaze follow Zayne as he stepped under a streetlamp. The imprint of Zayne’s wings was faint but visible to me, so I had no doubt the older man saw it.
I shut the door as the driver unhooked the cross and brought it to his lips.
“We definitely need to make sure you have a shirt on when out in public,” I said, joining him on the sidewalk.
A wry grin appeared as we entered the lobby. “You think?” He glanced over his shoulder. “How visible is it?”
“Well, I can see it, so...” I said as we stepped into the lobby. Luckily, it was empty, and with it being brightly lit, I was able to get a better look at it. “Sort of looks like a white ink tattoo of angel wings. It covers your entire back, and it looks like it’s slightly raised.” Each curved feather looked as if it had been painstakingly etched onto his skin, no detail missed. The slightly raised quality to it gave it the shaded appearance of a normal tattoo. The urge to touch it hit me hard again as we made our way to the elevator. But remembering how he reacted in the pool, I resisted. “It’s really beautiful, Zayne.”
“You’re beautiful.”
My head jerked up, and I found him staring down at me with a soft, tender pull to his lips. I could feel warmth hitting my cheeks even as I snorted in the most unattractive manner possible. “I’ve seen what I look like right now, and—”
“And you’re even more beautiful than before.” He lifted his hand slowly to my face. His thumb brushed over the curve of my chin. “Each and every bruise is a badge of your strength.”
“There you go again, saying all the right things,” I murmured.
“How is this for not being the right thing to say?” He traced a finger along the line of my cheek, stopping where I knew the skin was still a lovely shade of bluish-purple. “I’m going to hurt Gabriel. Every bruise he left behind, every hurt he inflicted, I will repay tenfold. I want him to be alive and breathing when I strip his flesh from his bones and tear his organs from his body, and then, before he takes his last breath, I want the last thing he sees to be you before you kill him.”