Page 66 of Not Today, Satan
Burying my face in his neck, I nuzzle him with my nose so he won’t see the tears in my eyes. My heart aches at the thought of stepping out the castle doors. This is first time I’ve been myself with someone, completely unguarded. And he not only accepted me, he celebrated me—in ways I’d only read about women being celebrated. Those books I found deeper in Father’s library.
I slide out of bed and sit with my back to him, slipping my new dress over my head and swallowing against the lump in my throat. “We can’t. At some point, Father’s men will find us. We need to get you out of here before that happens, and I need to find my mom.”
He grunts as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “I hate when you’re right. I mean, you’re right a lot, but this time is the worst.”
Tossing him his shirt, I march to the closet and search through it with trembling hands.
I shouldn’t have let it get this far, shouldn’t have let myself fall for him and—even worse—let him fall for me. There’s no ending where we’re together. Not if my father catches us.
The cloak provides the comfort his arms no longer can, and I wrap it around myself like the blanket we’d tossed on the floor. My mom’s photo’s still in the bodice of my old dress, and I pocket it, before tying my sword belt around my waist. Nate passes me the blade, and I slide it into the sheath, exhaling at its familiar weight on my side.
Nate grumbles about nothing in the closet fitting him, but he shrugs on his shirt and buttons it with a sigh. “So, what’s the plan? Do you think those people are still out there?”
Standing on my tiptoes, I peer out the window. Nate steps behind me and places a hand on my waist. I go to push him away, but instead, I lace my fingers with his. His touch calms me more than my cloak and sword combined. “I don’t see anyone. And it’s stopped snowing. We need to get to that path there. I’ll melt the door again, then we’ll sprint for it and follow it all the way to the gate. My ankle’s better and I’m back to full power, so we can fight off any shadelings.”
Nate places his other hand on my hip, his fingers skimming up and down my side. He bends and kisses my neck. Shivers follow his every movement. I close my eyes and sigh against him. “Or we could stay here,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’m good with that.”
I face him, resting my palm on the back of his neck. My voice cracks against the tears in my throat. “You know we can’t. Let’s get this over with.”
Blinking rapidly, I start down the stairs, but stop when his steps don’t echo mine. He stares out the window, his eyes focused on something beyond the glass.
Something’s wrong. The last time he looked this serious, I’d forgotten to close the gate in Lot Eight.
I take one step toward him, my fingers clenched at my side. “Nate?”
“Plummer Park,” he says.
“What?” I frown and take another step. “What are you talking about?”
He faces me and swallows. “If anything happens to me, you need to find your mom. The park in the picture, it’s called Plummer Park. You should be able to find it on any map of West Hollywood. Those benches she’s on are near the middle of the park. Follow the signs to Fiesta Hall. You can’t miss them.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I swipe it away. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, Nate. I’ll make sure of it.”
He’s looking at me, but also through me, like I’m the pane of glass he stands beside. “I thought you should know. In case.”
“Okay.” I wipe my face with my sleeve, then take his hand.
He follows slowly, as though he’s drawing as much energy from this place as possible. We stop in front of the door, and he inhales sharply. “Melt the door, run like hell, and don’t stop till we reach the gate.”
I nod, not trusting myself to answer. If I open my mouth, I’ll start sobbing, and I’m not confident I’d ever stop. Pulling the cloak over my head, I brace my palm against the door and take a shaking breath before looking at him.
“Ready?” I whisper.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
The door dissolves beneath my fingers.
XXXI.
Nothing stirs as we exit the castle, the only sounds the whistling wind and the crunch of our boots breaking through the freshly fallen snow.
I slide my sword from its sheath and brandish it in front of me.
Where is everyone?
“I almost preferred when they were trying to kill us,” Nate whispers. “Does something feel off to you?”
