Page 19 of Reap the Night
“Yes, there’s a great spa not too far from my office. They do massages and nails, and there’s a heated pool. We could get a late lunch after.”
“I would love that.” She beamed at me, then at Ezekiel, and her happiness was infectious, lightening my mood. But when I glanced at Ezekiel, it was to find him watching me with a strange intensity I hadn’t seen on his face before. It made my nape prickle and unease flare to life in my belly once more.
“On that note, what’s for dessert?” Ordell asked.
I picked up my spoon and got back to work on my food. The sooner I finished, the sooner I could leave.
Neither Ezekielnor Ariella stayed for dessert, excusing themselves with conspiratorial glances before slipping from the room. Once they left, I had no appetite. In fact, I felt positively nauseous. Probably shouldn’t have stuffed my face with food to avoid more polite conversation.
I sagged in my seat as soon as the door closed on them. “Well, that went well. I mean, things are moving, right?” The hunters exchanged veiled glances that I couldn’t read. “What?”
“Do you want dessert?” Hemlock asked bluntly.
“No…”
“Good, then let’s go.” He stood and clicked his fingers, jerking his head toward the exit.
What the fuck? Did he think I was a dog? “Hey, what’s with the attitude? I might not be the golden girl any longer, but that does not give you the right to talk to me like I’m nothing.”
“Why does it matter to you how I treat you?”
I shoved my seat back and stood, matching his confrontational stance. “Drop the ego. It’s not just you, I don’t let anyone treat me like shit.”
“Stop being a dick, Hem,” Ordell said. “It helps no one.”
“And to think that a few weeks ago, you both promised to be nice to me.” I meant it to come out lightly, but the catch in my voice gave me away. Because this…them being assholes, it fucking hurt.
Ordell’s chest rumbled, a soothing apologetic sound, but Hemlock’s expression dropped into a look of pure devastation. It was so brief I could have imagined it.
He stormed from the room. “I’ll be with the carriage.”
I sank back into my seat, picked up my goblet, and drained the contents.
“How are you feeling?” Ordell asked softly.
“Do you even care?”
“Of course I care, Orina. You know how much, I just…”
Any residual anger toward him melted away. Ordell and I had our own battle. Something that was separate from the watcher deal. I could understand him avoiding me. He did it to protect me, and at least he wasn’t mean about it, but Hemlock…The way he’d been acting toward me cut deep, especially because I’d been so sure we’d formed a connection of our own.
“You do understand, don’t you?” Ordell asked.
“Yeah, I do.” I smiled, but it slipped. I was too tired for this…us… “I’ll meet you at the carriage. I want to see Ingrid real quick.”
“Ingrid’s not been seen for a few days,” Ordell said. “She hasn’t been manifesting. One of the other specters has taken over the kitchen. This meal wasn’t her doing.”
“What? Why isn’t she manifesting? And why didn’t Ezekiel say anything when I mentioned her earlier?”
“I don’t know about Ezekiel, but this happens with Ingrid. She dips out to recharge from time to time. From all the specters, she’s the one who has to manifest the most, and it takes a toll.”
In that case, it made sense that she might need to recharge. Shame it coincided with my visit. “If you see her before I do, can you tell her that I miss her?”
“Of course.” He stood slowly, unfurling his powerful frame in a stretch that drew my gaze to the hem of his T-shirt and the strip of golden skin exposed there.
The urge to touch him tightened my grip on the stem of my goblet. God, I missed him.
He exhaled and fixed his stormy gaze on me. “I miss you too.”
