The Cell in Maeve’s Apartment
Meanwhile
“Is she ever going to come back?” Emily griped as she paced the cell. Attacking Maeve’s people with their own iron shackles when they came to retrieve or torment the prisoners had sounded like fun when she and Eamon came up with the plan, but after hours of waiting, the fun had faded into boredom. “What if she’s forgotten us?”
“She won’t forget,” Eamon said. His voice was stronger, though still a little hoarse with pain. “Not you, at least.”
“Yeah, I’m her worm to bait the hook. But what happens to the worm when the fish don’t bite? It gets dumped in the lake.” She could tell he had no idea what she was talking about, but she didn’t think it was worth explaining the concept of fishing to him. Or did fairies fish?
She stopped pacing and leaned her back against the wall. “Since Sophie’s not dancing to her tune, she’s probably just leaving me to rot.” She slid down the wall to sit beside him.
He took her hand. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“To rot?”
“For your sister to stay away so Maeve can’t use her.”
“If Maeve has Sophie, she doesn’t need me. She could just leave me here.”
“Do you really think your sister would be here without freeing you somehow?”
“Not if she could help it,” Emily admitted. Forcing a smile, she added, “And we’d have heard the explosions. Even if she went down, she’d have gone down fighting.”
He leaned his head back against the wall. “In the meantime, we may as well relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. Maeve is giving me the opportunity to rebuild my strength.”
“Speaking of which, how are you doing?” She lifted the hand that was still clasped around hers so she could examine the wounds on his wrist. The blisters were healing, but the wrist was still a mess. The other one looked similar. She placed her hand on his forehead. “The fever seems to have gone down.”
“I am much better,” he said in a hoarse whisper. His silvery eyes locked onto hers, and her breath caught in her throat. She slid her hand down to rest against his cheek, and then she moved to kiss him. This time, she hadn’t fallen under a spell and she wasn’t trying to find a way to thank him. She simply wanted to kiss him because she liked him and she’d gone through far more with him than with any other man she’d known.
“Emily Drake,” he breathed against her lips as he returned her kiss. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and his cool touch made her shiver all over. “You’re so warm,” he murmured.
She pulled back, shaking her head. “What are we doing? This is crazy. Romeo and Juliet just had families who hated each other. We can’t even live in each other’s worlds. Once I get home, I may never see you again—that is, assuming I get home.”
“But we’re here together now,” he said, drawing her back to him. “We may as well make the most of whatever time we have.”