Page 89 of Between Imminent Fates

“And it takes you twenty questions to secure it? Why does that seem like a lie?”

She experienced just a hint of frustration at his suspicious tone. “Rather than stare at you for an obsessively long period of time, I figured I’d simply get to know you. I lack the talent for quickly retrieving psychic signatures.”

“Perhaps you should get around more often.”

Sugary sweet, she replied, “Oh, I get around just fine.”

Celeste couldn’t tell if his eyes widened at the reference, or if she was seeing things. For a moment, Derikles didn’t speak. Then, he asked, “How old are you?”

She feigned mock embarrassment and fanned herself. “Why, Derikles, count me shamed and blushing.”

“You’re not blushing.”

“No? You’re looking closely, are you?”

The heated look of intensity he wore nearly did her in. “Pretty in pink, Celeste.”

She wondered if he meant her cheeks or her hair. Resisting the urge to frown, she asked, “Who’s your personal hero?”

“Isaiah.”

Her smile dissolved. She thought about their similar predicaments. It was obvious that Derikles had deified his sovereign, much as she had with Nina. Now, they were bereft of a friend, mentor, and leader, and struggling to stay afloat.

Derikles wouldn’t see her inner battle, no matter how hard he looked. She’d buried it so deeply that no one could dig it out. Despite that, a part of her craved his attention because she was desperate for a distraction.

“Celeste.”

Say it again, begged a part of her she previously thought dormant. Everything about the way her name rolled off his lips was a promise. “Yes, Derikles?”

He gave no indication of being as affected by her use of his name. “Do you have my psychic signature yet?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll meet in a week. I’ll come to you.”

Celeste was already shaking her head. “No. Zeke won’t allow you in our territory.”

“Why the hell not?”

The flare of irritation that seethed through his voice made Celeste shiver. “Because you’re a sovereign now. Having any Raeths of a different clan on campus might disrupt the peace and strain him even further. I can come to you. If that’s acceptable.”

“Do you ask in honor of Raeth tradition?”

“I’m not a traditional girl, Raeth.”

“Count me surprised,” he stated, monotone. “Why, given your outfit, I’d have thought you the perfect picture of traditionalism. I’m only shocked there wasn’t lime green lipstick to complement the conservative look.”

Celeste leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper, “That was in my other corset.”

Though she’d thought him handsome before, when he smiled, Derikles was positively devastating. And then, as if remembering himself and why he was here, the grin faded.

“I’ll see you in a week.”

Celeste watched as the man strode away, leaving only a trace of his coffee and dark chocolate scent behind. He’d surprised her, and she found herself eagerly anticipating their next meeting.

“Did you get his psychic signature?”

She perked at Remmus’ voice. “Yep.”

---