Page 54 of By Any Other Name

“Ow! What the fuck?”

My mind processes the words and my recognition of the voice, as happening simultaneously with the sound of shattering glass and the feeling of huge arms wrapping around my waist. Later, I realize that all those things cannot have happened in exactly the same second, that my panic has warped my memory, but in the moment I feel as if I am drowning in sensation—in sound.

“Hey,” Roman says. “Breathe.”

“What are you doing?” I whisper-scream.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how to let you know I was here.”

My heartbeat is slowing down now that I’ve realized it’s him, but my panic is slowly being replaced with rage. “It’s called a phone.”

“I don’t have your number.” He shrugs, giving me a smile I’m sure he thinks is disarming. “Imagine not having my fiancé’s number? Crazy.”

“Don’t try to be cute,” I practically growl. “You terrified me. I thought you were the witch-killer.”

His face turns solemn. “I’m sorry. You’re right, this was stupid.”

I should probably calm down now, but my adrenaline is so high and I’m so surprised by the apology I don’t know where to go. “Why not just use the damn door? Or message me on social media? Or magic, fuck.”

He cocks his head to the side. “I assume you blocked me on social media because I can’t find you.”

I open my mouth to tell him that’s insane, and then close it again. He’s right. I did block him, but it was quite literally ten years ago and I’d completely forgotten until now. I don’t even know why I did it. He probably said something to upset me in the eighth grade to get himself blocked, and because I rarely use social media and have had the same accounts since I was twelve…well, here we are.

I put my hands on my hips. “And the door? Or a spell?”

The number of times now he’s avoided using spells or runes in favor of ridiculous alternatives is starting to seriously concern me. Is it possible he didn’t pledge? But why not just say that?

He runs a hand through his hair, and then digs in his pocket for his cloves. I’m stressing him out, obviously. I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about it.

Roman pulls out one of the cloves, but doesn’t light it, just flips it between his fingers. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to use the door? I wasn’t going to stand down in your yard and scream up at your window, that would be apocalyptically stupid and would definitely get us caught. I thought you would recognize me right away, your doors were open.”

I grind my teeth. While I can see the logic there—kind of—there’s still just so many issues. I look past Roman to the oil diffuser now smashed on the floor and sigh. I really liked using that.

“I really am sorry I scared you,” he says again. He somehow manages to look up through his eyelashes even though he’s a foot taller than me. I’m sure it’s an expression he’s perfected over manymanyscrew ups, but it does thaw my frost slightly.

“Well, if you were trying to avoid getting killed, this was probably the worst way to do it.” I grab a sweater off my desk chair and follow him outside. “You’re breaking and entering, we’d just be defending ourselves.”

“Against what?” Roman steps up behind me, crowding me against the railing, his arms on either side of my body. “A siege of one?”

I shiver at the feel of his breath on my neck, but make no move to shrug out of his hold, or ask him to step away.

Roman pulls a lighter out of his pocket and flicks it, but doesn’t raise it to light his cigarette. “Regardless, I came to tell you I spoke to Abram today.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“It’s not a death sentence.” He sighs and I feel it against my back. “But there is a setback.”

I hold my breath. Here it comes…new conditions. Or, maybe he’s come to tell me face to face he can’t do this. “Right. Well, anyway. What’s the verdict?”

“You need to pledge, and Abram pointed out that it doesn’t matter if we have Lawrence officiate or not, he’ll have to be there regardless as a witness. A wedding could have any witnesses, but a pledging needs a witness from every house.”

I blanch. Nothing is ever simple, is it? “Fine. Shall we go then?”

He chuckles, low and sexy, and the sound goes straight to my core. “You want to go now?”

“Yes. Why wait?”

“It’s getting kind of late.” He leans over my shoulder to look at his watch. “He’ll probably be eating dinner or something.”

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