Page 82 of Driving Rain (Rain Chaser)

“Good afternoon, Ms. Corentine.”

“You’re looking well today, Mr. Melpomene.”

“I’m looking well?” He smirked a little then, and I thought my insides were going to melt like butter on a skillet. “Are you a heroine in a Jane Austen novel now?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” he whispered.

A tiny shiver of delight rioted through me, sending off metaphorical sparks all over my skin. How was it he could undo me so completely with two little words? The power he had over me was so magnificent, it was unbelievable. If he told me to jump off a cliff, I might do it, as long as he promised to jump with me.

This bastard was going to ruin my life, and I would love every single minute of it.

Love, I was starting to realize, was a lot more dangerous a power than any of us had ever been taught to respect.

No wonder it was the one thing we weren’t allowed to have.

Even the Infatuates used the power of lust, not love. They were just as forbidden from feeling as the rest of us.

I loved my sister, but that wasn’t the same. Sisterly love was akin to breathing, it was a part of me. Loving Sunny was so natural it was like day and night. Like oxygen. It was a constant, and it was easy.

Loving Cade was something altogether different. It was blissful agony. Precious torture. It was a vulture picking at my bones. I hurt all over because I loved him, but if that pain were to vanish, I would mourn it until I wasted away into a pile of dust and memory.

There was a very good reason love was forbidden to clerics. This was the only feeling I could imagine being strong enough to wrench someone away from doing the bidding of a god. Between love and destiny, I think most of us would choose love.

Too bad I was already on the path of my destiny, going one way to nowhere.

I wanted to take his hand and squeeze, but it was too dangerous here. I smiled at him instead, hoping there would be a way to see him again alone before everyone left in a few days.

One more night, was that too much to ask?

It might be, but I’d ask for it anyway.

Prescott took the seat beside me. “What, no golden shadow today?” He glanced around, looking for Sunny.

“She’s doing something else. She’ll be here soon.” I checked my watch. It was almost noon, which meant Sunny was cutting it awfully close if she was going to make it on time for the public addresses.

“Maybe she’s stuck out front in that interminable line.” Prescott huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring straight forward at the stage. “It took me fifteen minutes to get through the door, and I had just gone across the street for a coffee. It’s ridiculous.”

“You know there was an explosion yesterday, right?” I replied.

His gaze jerked upwards to my stitches, then met my eyes. His expression was stony. “Well, no one died, so don’t look at me.”

“So sorry you were inconvenienced.” I mirrored him, crossing my own arms.

“Children,” Cade scolded. “Play nice.”

The temptation to say He started it was high, but I bit my tongue. Prescott managed to needle me effortlessly. I couldn’t think of another person who drove me quite so crazy with such little effort.

I started to get nervous when Imelda took the stage and there was still no sign of Sunny. Had something happened to Sawyer? I pulled my phone out of my back pocket but had no missed calls or texts. If something serious happened, I had to imagine they would reach out to me.

While scanning the crowd I spotted Leo near the entry doors, easy to see as he was several inches taller than most of the people around him. He nodded at me, then gave an apologetic shrug when he saw my disappointment that he was alone.

“Good afternoon,” Imelda announced, calling my attention back to the stage. “I’m so grateful to everyone for joining me here today. As you know, the Convention of the Gods is an opportunity each year for those who are closest to the gods—their earthly clerics—to come together and discuss how best to serve you, the general public. This is a wonderful chance for us to create programs and initiatives that bring your prayers directly to your beloved gods and goddesses, and also return more results to you.”

A smattering of applause echoed through the crowd of civilians who had gathered. They’d moved the jam-packed civilian viewing area closer to the stage so people could see and hear better. It was wedged full of people pressing up against the barricade, snapping away with phones and digital cameras as if we were celebrities they were dying to get photos of.

I caught sight of a blonde head in the crowd and leaned forward in my chair. No, not one blonde head. Two. One was unmistakably golden, the other a pale platinum cut short.

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