Page 50 of City of Love

He doesn’t answer; he just pulls something from his bag and holds it out. It’s a small pocket knife, I can see as he pries it open.

“No,” I say, shaking my head and recoiling. I step back a little until my back finds the rough stone of the mausoleum. “Nope. I’m not holding that.”

“Yes, you are,” he says, moving closer to me.

“No way. I don’t know how to use a knife! I’m—”

“You stick the pointy part into the bad guy,” he says, his voice tense. “You said you were going to do what I ask—I need you to take this. I’m not going to be able to focus if I’m worrying about you. Please take it.”

I swallow thickly before taking the blade, trying not to think about the legality of all this. In truth, it’s not his words that convince me; it’s the memory of the look on his face when he first saw me here.

He was scared. And if Noel is scared, I probably should be too.

“All right, sweetheart,” he says, taking my face in his hands and looking anxious.

“Why do you call me that?” I say. I immediately regret it, because this issonot the time, but he’s already answering.

“I don’t know,” he says distractedly, looking over his shoulder. “It just slips out sometimes. Feels right. Now listen—here’s what I need you to do.”

He’s obviously not paying attention to what he’s saying, but I’m paying attention, and my heart skitters at his words. What does he mean?

“The grave we’re finding is going to come into view on the other side of this,” he says, touching the stone of the mausoleum. “I want you tostay here. Luc is going to stay where he’ll still be able to see you, and you’ll be able to see him, but that’s it. You do not come out, no matter what you hear. If things go wrong—”

“What?” I say, another thread of panic weaving itself into my questionable emotional state. “Are things going to go wrong?”

“No,” he says soothingly, his hands coming up to smooth my hair. “Things aren’t—”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” I snap. “Don’t coddle me. How dangerous is this?”

“I’m telling the truth,” he says, his voice serious. “This should be quick and hopefully painless. Both parties are keen to keep the peace. But if something does go wrong, you wait for Luc, and you stay with him. Do you understand?”

“Yes,father,” I say, but my snarky bravado is weak.

Noel’s eyes flash. “I’m not your father,” he murmurs, and I know I’m not imagining the way his eyes drop to my lips.

“I know,” I say hoarsely. It’s all I can manage, because I think my heart might be beating out of my chest.

“Good,” he says, his gaze still on my lips. When his eyes come back to mine, they’re dark and stormy and—oh my gosh he’s thinking about kissing me.I may be clueless about a lot of things, but I know male body language.

The space between us is suddenly electric, his pull so intense my breath catches in my throat. I find myself leaning closer to him, and when his hands slide into my hair, I hear his ragged exhale—like he’s having as much trouble breathing as I am.

I could kiss him. I could kiss him right now, and he would kiss me back.

Except that doesn’t happen. I can see the exact moment the spell breaks; his body tenses and his hands leave my hair, coming to rest instead on my shoulders. When he clears his throat and takes a tiny step back, my heart wilts a bit, but I don’t say anything. I just stand there as he presses a quick, chaste kiss to my forehead—like I’m a little girl—and then nods at me before stalking over to Luc, who’s waiting nearby.

“Si tu dois choisir entre moi et elle, choisis-la,” Noel says, his voice so low I can barely hear. Luc glances at me and nods before looking back to Noel, who rounds the corner and disappears from sight.

Chapter 16

Noel

My worlds have collided in a way I never wanted them to collide.

I was careful. I wasso carefulnot to let Lydia into this world—not to taint her—and yet here we are. There’s no way I’m going to get out of explaining everything to her now, and she would feel insulted if I tried. Plus she’s met Gabin, who was looking at her like she was his last meal on earth.

I grit my teeth. Lydia will never be his. Not ever.

This has all gone wrong, and now a little whine of panic is buzzing around inside like a persistent gnat. One thing has become abundantly clear: it’s time to shut down this operation. I was going to wait to see if things got worse, but something about Lydia getting mixed up in everything…well, if I’ve come to the point where I’m in a cemetery paying the Saints while she hides nearby, it’s over for me. The situation has spiraled far enough, and there are enough unpredictable variables that I can’t guarantee control or safety anymore.

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