Page 11 of Kortlek

“Cove, honey, how are you feeling?”

Cove’s blank expression remains, though it softens a fraction. It’s only for a moment, and a smile doesn’t grace his face, almost as if I imagined it. He gives Mom a stern nod, standing there awkwardly as she hugs him. He’s never been the one to show affection to anyone, and she knows it, so she doesn’t pay it any mind that he doesn’t hug her back.

“I’m fine, Noah,’’ he responds in his usual gruff voice. “Aria did a good job handling the wound.’’

I hid a scoff behind my cup, knowing damn well I managed to make it worse by pushing my fingers in it. My eyes are glued to the table as I sip on the sparkling water, then I put the glass down and fill my plate with food.

Cove greets everyone politely as he takes a seat next to me, and my shoulders immediately go rigid. Blair’s eyes narrow at me, noticing the sudden tension in my body, but she knows better than to comment on it while everyone is present.

He’s engaging in small talk with my parents and Arlo. They’re asking him about the wound, what he wants to do with Jackson, and what he plans to do moving forward regarding the entire fighting thing. He responds, his answers always straight to the point and as short as possible.

Yet, all I can do is try to eat in silence, acting like the scent radiating off his body doesn’t bother me. As usual, he’s dressed in a fucking compression shirt with grey sweatpants. Compression shirt. Grey sweatpants. That was a calculated move on the bastard’s part, and I’m trying my best to remember that I, in fact, am no longer bothered by the proximity or Cove as a whole.

But my mind loses the game to my heart, and I find myself chilling the more I inhale his scent.

It’s sandalwood, mixed with something minty, dark, and strong. All of a sudden, the smell of Mom’s delicious cooking takes a backseat, and all I can smell is Cove.

Cove. Cove. Cove.

My heart jumps, racing in my chest at the mere thought of him. I didn’t avoid him the past few days; I was simply too busy to hang out with Arlo and Blair, although now that he’s so close to me, I’m slowly starting to hate myself.

My resolve seems to be slipping the longer he’s next to me, and my heart goes into a frantic motion, unable to stop beating rapidly. It’s fucking pathetic and annoying, but there’s nothing I can do to prevent it from happening.

As if sensing my gaze, Cove’s attention turns to me, the dull look in his eyes as vividly present as always. He blinks and slightly raises his brow as he takes in my face, or more likely — the changed hair.

“What brought that on?” He asks, voice deep and raspy.

“None of your business,’’ I mutter under my breath, trying to focus on the food before it gets cold.

“Aria!” Mom scolds as if I’m a child, and I roll my eyes, not wanting to engage in anything further.

Cove takes the hint, and the conversation moves forward, his eyes moving from me and settling on everyone else around the table. A sigh of relief slips from me, but I can’t help but notice that throughout the meal, he keeps stealing glances my way. It’s subtle; it doesn’t happen too often, and it lasts before I can understand why he’s looking at me like that.

It could very well be my imagination, but the intensity in his eyes tells me that he wants something.

The thought of what he could possibly want sends chills down my spine.

CHAPTER FIVE

“There was absolutely no reason this needed to be done at my place.’’ I mumble, sprawled on the floor with a pillow tucked under my stomach. My elbows are propped up on the fluffy carpet, my hands holding my head up.

Arlo and Blair are sitting on each side of the coffee table, with papers in front of them. Blair is scribbling something down on an empty sheet of paper, brows narrowed in concentration to the point she’s not even hearing me. She blinks, sighs, and then crosses another name off the list.

Arlo, on the other hand, has his laptop on his lap, searching for God knows what, his glasses resting on top of his nose. He bites the inside of his cheek, and I can see him deleting whatever he typed previously and giving it another shot.

They’re trying to narrow down who to take to Kortlek.

The cards pulled two weeks ago were an ace, a king, and a queen, which means thirty-eight victims. Thirty-eight. Thirty-fucking-eight. I understand their dilemma, given the amount of research they need to do before they actually take action. The prey can come from anywhere within the state. It’s not exclusive to New York City only, and although that’s a little tougher to pull out, it’s not impossible, and they’ve done it a couple of times.

Given that the number has never been this high, they’re taking every precaution measure they can think of. No matter the fact that these people are some of the most vile humans alive, thirty-eight people vanishing and never being seen again on the same day is bound to raise a couple of eyebrows, which is what they’re trying to prevent.

Oh, but I’m not bothered by the fact that they’re doing their research at my place. Shocked? Sure, I didn’t expect it, considering how little they want me involved. But what caused me to be in a pissy mood is that Cove is here, too.

Unlike Blair and Arlo, who are working their asses off, Cove is standing in the corner of my living room, scrolling on his phone, unbothered by the entire thing. It’s like he’s forced to be here, and it pisses me off that he didn’t even greet me when he walked into my home.

Some manners would’ve been appreciated.

With a deep breath, I roll over onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. The silence is deafening. The only thing that can be heard in the living room is the scraping on the paper while Blair writes and Arlo’s fingers typing away on the keyboard. Their breathing is in sync, and they’re so fucking adorable it makes me sick.

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