Salvatore scowls. “I only crack down on the people who deserve it. You’d probably be too busy worrying about messing up your fancy shirt to get your hands dirty on her behalf.”
Byron’s tone gets haughtier. “I’d do whatever it takes to look after my match,includingthinking the situation through rather than risking making it worse.”
“Whoa, whoa.” I shake off both of them and step away, holding up my hands in appeal. “That’s enough.Neitherof you is following me, because we’re trying to avoid being seen together, in case you forgot. And if anyone does come after me, joke’s on them, because my glim will turn the tables before they can blink.”
The thought of my innate power wrenching the life out of anyone turns my stomach, but my point lands. Both of the guys look mildly abashed.
“Fine,” Salvatore grumbles. “Doesn’t mean I won’t still be keeping an eye out.”
He touches my jaw to guide my face up to meet his kiss. The passionate force of it makes my knees wobble, even as I nudge him back, because if we don’t want to be seen together at all, we definitely don’t want to be seen smooching.
Byron moves in before I can voice my protest, cupping my face and kissing me with just as much enthusiasm, if more tenderly. Now my pulse is wobbling too.
As he draws back, Salvatore makes a scoffing sound. Iback up another couple of steps before this can turn into an ongoing kissing competition, as delicious as that might be.
“Thank you for the lovely goodbyes. I’m sure there’ll be more time for making out later. Justnot in full view of a public street.”
My cheeks must be flushed from the kissing that’s already gone on, because Byron takes on a triumphant air as his gaze lingers on me. He glances at Salvatore. “Try not to get yourself arrested.”
Salvatore snorts. “Try not to get lost up your own ass.”
I summon as firm a tone as I’m capable of. “Let me remind you that if you’re both on my side, you’re on thesameside.”
Salvatore rolls his eyes skyward, but his shrug is more accepting than dismissive. “I know. I’m just not going to pretend Worth is good company.”
Byron offers him a polite smile and a coolly even voice. “Right back at you, Cosgrave.”
I rub my hand over my face. Kali, kill me now.
Thankfully, the goddess of death and destruction doesn’t actually answer my prayer, and my matches finally let me walk away to a discreet spot where I can call a ride. As soon as I’ve clambered into the car, I sag against the seat and close my eyes.
Maybe I’ll just sleep for the rest of the weekend. That feels like a very productive use of my time.
It’s a nice thought, but I do have a little more truth to tell. When the car drops me off outside the grand Devine house, Aunt Daphne is puttering around the garden, the breeze gusting through her tawny hair.
She looks up and notes the car driving away with the cannier gleam that comes into her eyes now and then in contrast with her usually whimsical demeanor.
“You could have called for Maurice,” she says as I come up the front walk. “That’s what we have a chauffeur for.”
A lie springs to my lips automatically—what I might have told her if I hadn’t just spilled my guts to the men who matter most to me. I catch it and pause.
If I’m going to open up to her more, I should set the right tone from the start.
I lower my voice so no one but her will be able to hear me. “I was meeting with my matches. I thought it’d be better to travel somewhat incognito.”
Daphne’s big brown eyes go even wider than usual. “Have you made more progress? Should we—” She brushes her hands against her trim slacks. “Let’s go to my office and talk there.”
I couldn’t have made a better suggestion myself.
I follow her to the third floor, pushing through my emotional exhaustion to decide how to approach this discussion. Given Daphne’s reluctance to believe anything questionable about Other Elodie’s actions, I have to tread carefully even if I’m determined to lay out the facts.
We step into her bright office with its soothingly pale furnishings. Daphne motions me to one of the two armchairs by the window, where the mid-afternoon sun streaks warm through the window.
As I sink onto the firmly padded surface, she folds her hands on her lap, her gaze avid. “What have you learned?”
“A lot of things.” I glance down at my own lap and then force myself to meet her eyes. “But first I need to admit something. I wasn’t totally honest with you about the night I sparked my matches.”
Daphne’s mouth draws tighter. “I had a feeling you were leaving some things out.”