“Where were you?” Constantine asks, a curious twinkle in her eye, as I pull a chair closer to her bedside.
The room falls silent. My eyes jump to Aleksandr, pacing near the window, then back to Constantine. She shoots me an understanding look.
“Sasha,” she says, her tone warm, turning her attention to her childhood best friend. “Can we …” She doesn’t finish her sentence and simply signals to the door with a small jerk of her head.
Aleksandr sighs but mutters, “Sure.” Taking his phone out of his pocket, he adds, “I need to make some calls anyway.”
I watch his shoulders slump while he steps out of the room, before I look back to Constantine.
She answers my question before I ask it. “Alina died in the bombing.” Her tone holds as much empathy as she can muster for someone who has never experienced emotional pain before.
Aleksandr losing his mother certainly explains his morose attitude.
I nod solemnly, leaning my elbows on her bed. “Anyone else?”
“Not of importance.”
We stay silent for a few seconds until she swats my arm, shifting the mood. “Where were you? Your mother says you left in the middle of the ceremony.”
I quirk a conspiratorial smile. Slowly walking two fingers up the length of her cast, I consider how much I want to tell Constantine.
“I’ve caught myself a little rabbit,” I finally say. “I was busy chasing it when the bombing occurred.”
Constantine’s eyes grow wide as her mouth drops open in an excited gasp.
I cut her off before she even utters a word. “Hands off, Tinny. This one is mine.”
She pouts, crossing her arms petulantly. “You’re no fun.”
I chuckle softly at her spoiled attitude.
“What’s so special about this one?”
I lean back in my chair, grinning from ear to ear as a buzz of reckless anticipation hums in my chest. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m desperate to find out.”
9
VEIL
I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been handcuffed to a bed inGemini Foley’shouse.
It must have been hours by now. And yet here I sit. I fight the exhaustion and struggle to keep my droopy eyelids open and alert. My wrist is raw from the vain efforts to try to break out of the handcuffs, and the now-sensitive skin smarts at just the thought of trying again.
There’s not much to look at to pass the time either. The bed is under large windows in the corner of the bedroom, and a redwood armoire sits on the opposite wall of the bed.
Although my vision has grown used to the dark, the furniture, cloaked in shadow, plays tricks on my mind. Everywhere I look, I feel threatened, as if even inanimate objects were willing actors to my ultimate demise.
I stare at an empty wall instead.
The door bursts open, and the sudden flick of the lights has my heart jumping into my throat from the shock. I squint, my hand attempting to shelter my eyes.
“Apologies for my tardiness, pet. I came back as soon as I could,” Gemini says with a flurry of theatrical movements, his tone light and jovial.
I say nothing as I scamper back up the bed, pulling my knees up to my chest, my heart pounding wildly against my rib cage.
He’s changed out of his gold suit and into a red mesh tank top, tucked into tight black jeans. His bared skin reveals a sporadic collection of tattoos, including playing cards and a carousel horse on his chest. My gaze snags on a tattoo of two snakes that appear to be coiling around his collarbone, near where a set of silver chains adorn his neck.
With a small furrow to his brow, he pins me with his stare, his eyes shimmering as they inspect me. A thin line of black eyeliner is smudged under his lower lashes.
