Page 56 of A Match Made in Hell
Her pesky, all-knowing eyebrow rises higher. ‘And?’
‘No one. Nothing.’
‘Hm. Well, I’m glad you know you have me. And no one, whoevertheymay be.’ She nudges me with her toe as my cheeks heat once more. ‘Didn’t you say you needed to go somewhere?’
I fire a glare in her direction, but there’s no intensity behind it. I have no idea if my prove-it-was-the-wine plan will work – orwhat I’ll do if it doesn’t, but sitting here trying not to think about last night clearly isn’t working.
At least if I see him I’ll know how much trouble I’m in.
‘I’ll come find you later.’ I give Harper’s hand one final squeeze before exiting the park, rushing through a patch of trees with trunks as thick as elephant legs and out into the corridor. After the humidity of the garden, the blast of cold outside is welcome. I lean against the wall for a moment, ignoring the rattle of small pebbles falling from the ceiling when my back hits the rock and the whole cliffshudders.
Once I’ve gathered myself, I head to the entrance chamber. There are no demons waiting outside to sneer at me today, which is a welcome change from the usual stares I get during Scrabble nights. It’s strange, though, for this section to be unguarded, with both the gates and the Void waiting to be stumbled upon by an unsuspecting human.
Maybe that’s what they’re hoping for.
I increase my pace. This section is quieter than usual too, an unnatural stillness in the air. Far in the distance, there’s a high-pitched whine, one that sends a tremor rippling through my body as though ice-tipped talons have scraped down my chest.
‘Sath?’ I call out, not expecting an answer.
The noise doesn’t sound again, but the atmosphere remains uneasy, like the whole corridor is a drawn bow waiting to be released. Before sense can stop me, I take the right-hand path leading to Sath’s sitting room.
At the sight of me, he jumps from the sofa, slamming shut the book in his hand. I can’t believe he’s been lounging around reading while I’ve been having a crisis. Also, he clearly didn’t get the memo there’s a weird noise outside.
And my insides haven’t got the memo that last night didn’t mean anything. There’s all kinds of fluttering going on in my belly, my skin prickling as it remembers every place he touched.I want to peel it off and shred the memories with it. Bad Decision Willow hasn’t been put back in her cage at all; she’s the one who tricked me into coming here in the first place. She really is infuriating.
Sath tucks the book – I don’t get a glimpse of the title, only that it’s old and almost falling apart – inside a drawer before approaching me.
‘I think we need to . . .’ He blinks. ‘Why are you wet?’
My jaw drops. ‘How dare y—I am no such thing. And for your information –’
‘Willow.’ He tugs at a damp curl. ‘Your hair. It’s wet.’ His gaze flicks lower. ‘As are your clothes.’
I slap his hand away. I feel like a live wire ready to spark. ‘Harper was splashing . . .’ Mentioning her name reminds me of the teasing I’ve just run away from. ‘Never mind. I don’t know why I’m here.’
Liar. Liar. Liar. I’m a yo-yo, swinging from place to place, unable to settle because everything is awkward and uncomfortable. I curse the treacherous part of me that led me here in the first place. Curse the equally treacherous parts that want me to stay.
‘Wait.’
Despite my cursing, those same treacherous parts halt at the sound of his voice.
‘About last night . . .’ He trails off, running a hand through his hair. ‘You don’t have to worry. It was nothing. We’d both had a drink. You don’t have to run away.’
‘I’m not running. Why would I be running? Nothing happened.’
Apart from the point where his nose grazed mine. When I felt his breath on my lips. When his fingers curled around my waist. When I’d forgotten every single reason I might want to go home because all I could see and feel was him.
It might have been the wine for him, but standing in this room makes it ten times harder to claim it was for me. It’s like the toxin woke me from a slumber and now I can’t doze off again. I’m consumed with awareness, flinching every time his body shifts, half in fear he might come closer and half desperately hoping he will. I can’t blame Bad Decision Willow for this. This is all me.
This is a mess. It’s not part of the plan. It’s everything I shouldn’t be doing.
I don’t know how to stop.
In an attempt to sound more convincing, I add, ‘I wasn’t running. I remembered . . . I made plans. With Harper. So, I need to go. Right now.’
Sath arches a brow. I suspect I may be rambling. But rambling doesn’t necessarily meanlying. Except, of course, I am.
‘I’m sure Harper can wait for your charming company, given you were just with her,’ Sath says. ‘Stay. Can I make you a cup of tea?’
