Page 172 of Under the Lies

I look at Thea. “Looks like your gadget worked.”

Thea grins. Soaking up the praise. “Got here just in time to save your ass.”

“Easy now,” I warn.

At another time I’ll tell her she can create anything she wants. Right now we have other things to take care of.

“Where are we taking them?” Gabe asks, pushing a hobbling Sam forward.

“The Underground.”

They all nod, knowing where to go from there.

And as I’m standing with Sayer at her parents’ lake watching my friends lead her sister and Sam away, it almost doesn’t feel possible.

For weeks I’ve been hunting Harlow and now that she’s here her reckoning has finally come.

Tomorrow morning, as the sun rises, we deal with Harlow but tonight…tonight belongs to me and Sayer.

Once they’re out of sight, I pull away from Sayer, holding her at arm’s length. She’s still staring at the path that her sister disappeared down.

“Sayer.”

Painfully slow, she looks at me. I see the energy and adrenaline drain from her eyes.

“Are you okay?” My eyes hone in the mark left behind from the knife. Gently, I trace it.

“Take me home, Noah.”

I hold out my hand waiting for her to take it. There’s a tightness in my chest that only loosens when her small hand slips into mine.

Sayer wakes up before me the next morning and I find her standing under the shower, steam covering the mirrors, filling the room. When we got home last night, she stripped out of her clothes and crawled into bed. Both her cat and I stood in the doorway and watched her until he turned that feline gaze to me and meowed. Like he was telling me to fix it.

If I knew how, I would. But I didn’t. Instead, I stripped out of my clothes and crawled into bed beside her, not even complaining as Pan followed. I hated that he slept on the bed. His white hair got all over my sheets, his kneading nails have destroyed the silk fabric. But how could I kick him off tonight as he fitted himself on Sayer’s other side, snuggled in close? We both wanted the same thing.

For our siren to be okay.

And in the early hours of the morning, I plan to help her with that.

So I strip out of my sweats and I step into the shower where I have to bite back a curse. Jesus Christ, it feels like the flaming pits of hell are raining down upon her. Her pale, pale skin is scorched a molten red.

My hands reach out, tracing down her arms to lace over where her hands are folded over her stomach.

“I woke up wishing I never came back,” she whispers.

I tighten my grip around her like she’s about to slip through my fingers and melt down the drain.

I keep quiet. I don’t agree with her. Coming back home was the best thing she could’ve done. For me. Selfish, I know, but I don’t give a damn. Her life might’ve been easier when she was away, but it wasn’t as full. And I’m cocky enough to think that she’s seeing the world in a wider spectrum of colors now.

I know I am.

“Why do you say that?” I finally ask.

“Everything would’ve been easier. I would’ve just had school to focus on. No sister. No family secrets revealed. No weapons trying to harm me.” She twists her neck to look up at me, and I notice there’s still a faint knife mark on it. With one hand I reach up and trace it.

“But then I got to thinking.” She turns in my arms, pressing her chest to mine. “If I never came back, I wouldn’t have had this.” Her hands move up my body, finding a home around my neck. “I wouldn’t have had this time with you.”

My eyes narrow at her words as her lips touch mine. It sounds like she’s forming a goodbye. I don’t like it. So when I kiss her back, I make sure my lips imprint against hers, that she feels them skate across her entire body as they travel down her neck, her chest, and knows there’s more between us than this physical need.

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