Page 66 of Beautiful Sinners

Naturally, she tries, but I expected no less.

“Tristan is going to be furious if I disappear again. I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to him or explain what happened.”

He will be upset—at first. Once he finds out about Gabriel, I’m confident that what I’m asking her to do is the same thing he would’ve done. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of time to make him understand. Aleksander could have already told Gabriel where Alana is.

I kiss her on the cheek. “I need you to go hug your brother, tell him you’re tired and going to bed, then go get your stuff and be ready to leave with Evan as soon as possible without saying a word to anyone, especially Tristan.”

I’ll tell him after she’s gone. He’s not going to be happy. It’s a fight I don’t want, but one I’m prepared to have with him.

Alana scrutinizes me for a long minute, and I use that time to memorize every detail of her face. Her laugh lines and subtle crow’s feet that are starting to appear at the corners of her eyes. The way one eyebrow arches just a little higher than the other. The ever-present rosy blush on her cheeks.

“You’re planning something.”

I am, but I won’t confirm it. The reason why unsettles me greatly. I love her and want her safe, but I don’t trust her. Not anymore.

As an afterthought, I ask, “Who’s taking care of Cocky Bastard and the other animals?”

Perplexed, she answers, “Mike. Why?”

Okay, good. One less thing I have to worry about.

“Synthia, talk to me.”

I give Evan an exasperated side glance, silently asking him for a little help to get her moving.

“Go with Evan.”

He tries to take her arm, but she pushes his hand away.

“Don’t do it. Whatever crazy thing you’re thinking about doing—don’t. Come with me. We can start over again in Ireland. You loved it there.”

The fact that she knows that reminds me of the mountain of duplicity I’ve been buried under for way too long.

No more running away. No more hiding. No more fucking secrets.

I’m taking back my life.

I’m going back to Darlington.

I’m going to reclaim my family’s seat on the Council.

I’m going to find who killed my parents.

And God help anyone who gets in my way.

CHAPTER 23

Slumped against the balcony railing, I hunch my shoulders, bring my elbows together, and curl into myself to conserve body heat, but it doesn’t prevent the cold shiver from dancing over my exposed arms. The ambient temperature is muggy and warm, but the wind chill and the higher altitude make it feel much colder than it really is. I should’ve changed clothes as soon as we got back to Falcon Tower.

The French doors click open, and from the way my pulse suddenly skyrockets, I know it’s Constantine who walks out onto the balcony. I’m astonished it took them this long to come looking for me. Constantine may possess a shit-ton of patience, but like Tristan and Hendrix, he has no problem barging into a person’s space when he feels like it.

Goose bumps explode like fireworks from the furnace of his body heat when his chest collides with my back. He reaches those defined, muscled arms around me to grab the deck railing, effectively barricading me in, and I have no choice but to angle my head on his shoulder so I can see his face. Dark, sullen, and so incredibly gorgeous. My haven when everything around me is falling apart.

“You’ve been out here a while.”

My eyes close, and I soak in the cadence of his voice. I love hearing it. Every utterance. Every word spoken. All of them a gift.

“Just needed some space.”

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