Trying to keep the upper hand.
Wondering why she felt something for me now, all these years later.
And I fucking loved it—every last second of it.
I’d drop to my knees in prayer all day, every day, for Evelyn Snow.
As much as I tried to keep her away, as much as I tried to push back, she somehow managed to find a way to break me down, bit by bit. My mind was telling me to protect her—and making her co-Director was not going to accomplish that. But my instincts told me that she didn’t need protecting—not anymore. She needed someone to stand next to her as she fought her demons, and truthfully? I needed that, too.
We both conquered darkness. We both surveyed the wreckage after everything happened, and now we both needed to walk through the fire.
Together.
Pure Reverence
Evelyn Snow
Oxford,Present
I fidget with my phone for almost an hour before I work up the courage to text Benedict. It’s rare that Oxford gets a sunny day so late in the year—it’s been weeks of cool mist and rain, which is my favorite. But then a sunny day will crop up unexpectedly, and I feel obligated to take advantage. It’s like the sunshine in the U.K. is on a use it or lose it plan—if I don’t bask in the sunlight today, who knows the next time I’ll be able to?
I blow out a breath of air. Looking around, I pull up my text messages. Zoey is out grocery shopping, but I still feel like I’m sneaking around and doing something wrong. When I type in his name, I find it strange that we don’t have a thread established yet. Four years—four years of knowing him, of having this wild connection, and we’ve never texted. I’m not sure what that says about us. I look down and type a casual message when three dots pop up quickly.
I stop breathing altogether and watch in surprise as they disappear as quickly as they showed up. I stare at the white screen for a few more minutes, and it happens a couple of other times.
It must be a glitch.
As I’m about to bite the bullet, my phone rings, and Benedict’s name pops up.
I nearly throw my phone against the wall, yelping in surprise. I hit the green button and answer before I miss it.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly.
“Were you ever going to send that text to me?” he asks, his voice light and playful. I let out a nervous giggle. What the hell is wrong with me?
“How did you know?”
“Because I was about to text you when I saw your text bubble pop up. And then disappear. And then pop up…”
We both laugh. “I hate texting,” I admit, palming my face. My cheeks are burning.
He sighs, and it sounds like he’s leaning against something, because the tenor of his voice shifts slightly.
“Me too. So, what are we going to do today?”
My mouth flies open. “I—did you want—”
“Why don’t we spend the day in London?”
I shift uncomfortably. I don’t want to sound too eager, but I can’t ignore the way my heart is hammering in my chest.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Good? Just good?” he chuckles.
I laugh. “Amazing. Delightful. Magnificent.”
“I will meet you at the Tower Hill tube station in an hour. Does that give you enough time to get your affairs in order?”
