Page 51 of Ruling Destiny

After pressing a kiss to my cheek, he approaches the creepy medallion and plunges his hand deep into that gaping maw. “Go ahead,” he says. “Ask me anything.”

Of course, the first question that springs to mind is the most obvious—the one thing I’ve been wondering all along. And yet, how can I possibly ask him if he’s been lying about leaving Killian behind when this is meant to be fun?

I purse my lips as though I need a moment to think. “Okay,” I finally say. “I have a question.”

“Lay it on me.” Braxton grins.

“Did you really tell Leonardo about me?” I ask. “Or was that just a thinly veiled attempt at flattery?”

Braxton gives a solemn nod; then, with his free hand pressed to his heart and the other pushing deeper inside the mouth, he says, “I, Braxton Huntley, do hereby solemnly swear that I told the great Leonardo da Vinci all about the super-smart, incredibly hot, absolutely amazing girl that I cannot stop thinking about.”

Then he shuts his eyes tight and waits. When enough time has passed, he pulls his surviving hand free. “Looks like I’m clear.” His eyes light on mine. “But now that it’s your turn, I should warn you—I only play hardball.”

I stare at Braxton, trying to figure out what the hell that even means.

Okay, I know what it means—that he won’t go easy on me. But just how hard of a ball is he planning to pitch?

Since I’m in no mood to find out, I say, “This is silly. We should head back.”

I shoot an anxious glance between Braxton and the creepy frieze otherwise known as the Mouth of Truth, fully aware of just how ridiculous I’m being. Clearly there’s no way some ancient chunk of marble can really have a go at removing my hand.

And yet that doesn’t stop the chill from crawling over my skin.

Doesn’t stop my heart from practically banging right out of my chest.

“C’mon,” Braxton coaxes. “There’s nothing to fear. Just slip your hand inside, answer the question, then wait for theBocca della Veritàto sort it from there.”

I gnaw the inside of my cheek, seriously regretting having steered myself here. Still, the longer I delay, the more Braxton will think I’ve got something to hide.

“Fine,” I say, trying to put on a game face. “But just so you know, this whole thing is creeping me out. But yeah, go ahead, take your best shot.”

The moment I shove my hand inside that mouth, Braxton’s gaze locks on mine, and I’m surprised to find that playful glint suddenly replaced by something I can’t readily identify.

A loud blast of thunder explodes overhead.

“Ready when you are,” I say, only it doesn’t come out nearly as light as I’d hoped. If anything, I sound nervous, anxious, my voice pitching several octaves too high as my entire arm starts to shake.

Next thing I know, a bolt of lightning incinerates the sky, causing Braxton’s face to flash in and out of focus, flickering from dark to light to dark again, as he looks at me and says, “So tell me, Tasha—what did you really get up to today?”

Wait—what?

Did he really ask that, or is my head playing games?

Another earsplitting crack of thunder roars through the night sky.

“Any day now,” Braxton says, but his voice is soon overtaken by a screeching howl of wind.

“I’m sorry—what?” My tongue’s gone so dry the words come out slurred. A moment later, the heavens burst open, releasing a deluge of rain that hammers the glass roof.

Braxton moves in, closing the distance between us. With his gaze fixed on mine, he says, “So tell me, Tasha—do you really like the earrings, or was that just a thinly veiled attempt at flattery?”

In an instant, all the tension whooshes right out of me, and my shoulders sag in relief. “Yes,” I say, returning his gaze. “I truly do like them.”

We both wait. Wait for the jaws of truth to play judge and jury.

When enough time passes, I step away from the frieze, and Braxton pulls me into his arms.

“You know it’s not real, right?” He smooths a hand down my back.

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