Colin honestly didn’t know what was more offensive—that Sera was keeping something from him or that she thought he wouldn’t see it.
Of course, the argument could be made he’d spent their entire relationship keeping something from her, but this was different. The way she could barely stand to look at him was a major indicator. Sera had never been one for whom maintaining eye contact was a chore, but since their tour of the carnival, that had changed.
And perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Colin didn’t think her mood swing had anything to do with the kiss they had shared. Or at least not because she didn’t know how to let him down gently. If that were the case, she’d had ample time, and though it would be crushing, he was a big boy. He could handle it if her feelings weren’t the same. It would suck, but she was too important to him to let something as small as a broken heart shatter their relationship. Especially now, when she was all he had in this brave new world.
He wasn’t sure how long the shower ran, but it seemed she’d taken long enough to wash several times over. During that time, he’d pulled on a sleeveless undershirt and, after some inner debating, that lone pair of boxer shorts. Sera’s bag of goodies didn’t come with pajama bottoms, so it was either underwear or jeans, and he had never had much luck getting a good night of sleep in jeans.
When Sera emerged from the bathroom, Colin had to bite his tongue to keep from whimpering. She was in a similar state of undress—form-fitting shorts that were just inches away from being rebranded as a thong, and a white tank top sans a bra. Her nipples were hard points, saluting him through a thin cotton barrier, and it was all he could do to avoid staring.
She dragged a towel through her damp red locks, then tossed it to the bathroom floor before turning to face him. Their eyes met, and she blinked several times as she took in his bed-time attire.
“You didn’t get dressed,” she said abruptly, her voice a little hoarse.
“Neither did you.”
Sera glanced down and crossed her arms over her breasts, shielding her nipples from view. “Did so,” she said. “More than you did.”
“You’re practically naked.”
“Yet you’re the one standing there in his underwear.”
Colin eyed her shorts, or rather, the long, smooth lines of her legs, and tried—unsuccessfully—to keep his brain from picturing those legs wrapped around his waist. Her skin was creamy perfection, and his fingers itched to wander and play. He’d peel those so-called shorts down her legs and…
He coughed and looked away, willing his body to keep from reacting. Perhaps he had been foolish to ditch the jeans. It wasn’t as though boxers were terribly discreet when it came to…well, anything.
“This is what I sleep in, okay?” he replied, spreading his arms—then thought the better of it and crossed his own arms, bundling in on himself. He didn’t want her gaze wandering, lest she zero in on a certain part of his anatomy…and then he’d be fucked, and tragically, not in the good way.
At least, he would be if Sera hadn’t changed her mind, and there was nothing in her expression to indicate she had.
“Fine,” she said, and stomped over to the bed where she had deposited the supplies brought in from the car. She rifled through the sack not bearing the Dollar General logo and procured a couple baggies filled with an herb of questionable origin.
“What the hell is that?” Colin asked, snatching one of the baggies and lifting it to eye-level.
She whirled and plucked the baggie out of his grasp. “Ingredients.”
“For some really killer brownies?”
“For the concealment spell.”
“Yeah, I’m ninety-percent sure you’re just making this up as you go.”
“I’m ninety-percent sure you don’t have pants on.”
“Just ninety?”
“Shut up.”
Colin smirked. “Am I distracting you?”
Sera rolled her eyes. “No. It’s just…weird.”
“If you’re having a hard time resisting, just let me know.”
She grunted and planted a hand on his chest. “Ease back there, Romeo. The faster we get this show on the road, the faster we can eat.”
Colin eyed the baggie again and arched an eyebrow. “Does this magic herb give one the munchies?”
“It’s not pot.”
“I didn’t say it was.” He paused. “Are you sure it’s not pot?”
“I’m sure I’m going to brain you if you don’t shut up and do as I say.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a little violent for an angel?”
Sera rolled her eyes and marched him back until he was at the mirror in front of the bathroom. Then she stalked over to the desk, which was less a desk and more a fold-out table, and retrieved the folding chair. The motel seemed to really want its patrons to believe it was something other than a motel, but the décor didn’t do much for the imagination.
“Park your ass,” Sera said, and dropped the folding chair behind him.
She waited until he was seated, facing the mirror, before turning her attention to the baggies of magical pot.
Colin watched her reflection move, trying to decide if she was truly irritated with him. Seeing him in a state of undress had obviously ruffled her feathers—and given he’d seen her impressive wingspan, that wasn’t just a saying. Again, the need to bring up what had transpired earlier burned at him. He was split between the inner self that didn’t want to upset her and the self so desperately in love with her he couldn’t stand the strange limbo she’d shoved him in.
He hadn’t even yet been in this world a full day and already it seemed eons had passed since she’d shown up at his house, ice cream and cotton candy in tow. Telling him the impossible—things even his editor would reject, and that was saying something—and goading him until he agreed to come with her.
The line of things he wouldn’t do or say was behind him now. Still, that didn’t mean he would be careless in choosing his moment.
Colin cleared his throat and moved around on the chair. “So, how does this work?”
He watched her pass through the mirror’s reflection. She had busied herself to the point where she didn’t need to look up, and, though it could be his imagination, he had a feeling that was a concerted effort. Her cheeks were flushed, and her movements seemed jerky, spontaneous rather than orchestrated. As though she was making up the steps as she went, which—despite his playful accusation—he knew wasn’t true given her level of careful planning.
“Sera?”
She started, whipping her head up so fast that damp locks of red slapped her face. Her eyes, when they connected with his in the mirror, were wide and looked somewhat panicked. “What?”
Instead of answering, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She blinked at him, then shook her head and looked away again. “Nothing.”
“You honestly think I don’t know when you’re lying to me?”
He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or smug when she declined to answer him.
“Sera…”
“It’s nothing,” she snapped, meeting his gaze again, her own eyes blazing. “So drop it. Okay?”
“If it’s nothing, there’s nothing to drop.”
“Exactly.”
“Sera—”
She seized a lock of his curly hair in one hand and held up a pair of scissors in the other.
Colin froze. “Where did you get those?”
“They were in my bag of tricks.”
“And what are you going to do with them?”
Sera perked an eyebrow and answered him by clipping off a chunk of hair.
“Hey!” Colin jerked, though the movement was delayed and therefore ineffectual. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting your hair.”
“I can see that!”
“Well, you asked, genius.” She selected another thick clump and snipped. “This is how the spell works.”
He blinked at her reflection. “The spell?”
Snip. “Yep.”
“Are you sure this isn’t an elaborate hoax to get me to consent to a makeover?”
Sera snickered, wiping stray strands off the back of his neck. “The spell is a simple misdirection,” she said. “Your sister knows what you look like, and it’s a safe gamble your other siblings have cheated off her homework. So a four-eyed guy with curly brown hair—”
“Hey!” He pushed his glasses up his nose as a point of protest. “That was uncalled for.”
She shrugged a shoulder, not looking up, though the corner of her mouth tilted in a knowing smirk. “This spell,” she said, running her fingers through his hair—which he had to admit felt too fucking good for words—before snipping off another lock, “allows you to hide in plain sight. They know what you look like, or looked like, so someone fitting your former description will be who they’re after. We change your appearance just a little and you’ll fade into a crowd.”
Funny. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for anything to sound insane after the day he’d had. Thankfully, he hadn’t made any bets on the matter.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“So your answer to this whole there are a bunch of demons after me problem is a haircut?”
Sera wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be ridiculous. The haircut is the first part.”
“What’s the second part?”
“Giving you twenty-twenty vision so you can ditch the specs.”
He blinked at her. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” Sera cracked a grin and met his eyes. “Get it. Watch me?”
“You can seriously give me twenty-twenty vision?”
She offered a solemn nod. “With this spell, I can. Well, it’ll either do that or set your eyes on fire.”
He shot forward in the chair so quickly the scissor blades scraped his hair thin. “Shit!”
“Yeah, that’s what we call a joke.”
He paused, swallowing hard. “Anyone ever tell you your sense of humor sucks balls?”
“You, on more occasions than I can count.”
“And yet you don’t listen to me.”
“Don’t see a need to start now.”
Colin studied her in the mirror a moment longer, then stiffly settled back in the chair. A thick silence settled between them for a few minutes, during which time she smoothed and snipped, and the untamable mess on top of his head became less of a mess and increasingly tamed.
“What happens when they do a spell to find me?” he asked.
Sera stilled and met his reflection’s gaze. “What?”
“My sister knew where we were earlier. On the road. And then at Whistler’s.”
She inclined her head, seemingly in acknowledgment though her expression pinched. That same look had crossed her face earlier today at least once.
“Yeah,” she said. “I remember.”
“Right. So what’s to stop them from finding me again? Or finding us now? A location spell or something.”
She wet her lips, and he followed her tongue’s movements, swallowing at the memory of that tongue wrapped around his.
“Locator spells are trickier than they look in the movies,” Sera said.
“Imagine that.”
“I’m serious. Anytime you see a locator spell on screen, it’s…charm this scarf, and it’ll take you to the owner. Get an impression off this locket, and you’ll know where you need to go.” She wrinkled her nose. “I guess I understand the theory, but it’s rather unimaginative.”
“Okay,” Colin said. “What did they get wrong?”
Sera fell quiet again, her expression pensive. Then she said, “Well, if you want to find a person, you have to really know them. It’s not enough to have something of theirs or a strand of their hair or something.” Her fingernails dragged along his scalp, sending pleasant shivers across his skin. “It’s more internalized. You focus on their voice, or their laugh, or an emotion that is exclusive to who you’re trying to find.” A beat. “Anything less personal is subject to interpretation. A belonging will be attached to the individual, but also to anyone else who might have handled it. The echoes around an object are tied more to its physical history than the person it belongs to.”
That made an odd sort of sense. “And something more personal, like hair?”
“It’s the same thing. It’s been where you’ve been, but not where you are in the moment.” Sera pursed her lips, finger-combing his hair. “But if you focus on the person—things you know about them, things they make you feel…those are things tied to the individual. It’s an emotional charge that allows the magic to work. What your sibs have is too cold to make a hit.”
“What?”
“They have your name, age, probably occupation and hobbies. They might know things about you, but they don’t know you. They don’t have a guiding emotion about you. That’s another thing.” Her hands started working again, and more snippets of hair floated to the ground. “If the end goal in finding a person is selfish, it mucks up the spell.”
“So what you’re telling me is magic can decide whether or not you’re worthy?”
“No. Well, not really. It’s more that it shifts focus from the target. Because…well, take Savina, your sister—”
“Sister sounds way too familiar, considering she’s a psycho who tried to flambé me earlier.”
“Yeah, but she’s still your sister.” Sera flicked him a glance. “Anyway, say she tries to perform a locator spell, even if she has something personal to focus on…like your cotton-candy addiction.”
“That’s all you mean by personal?”
“No, it…just go with it, okay?” She waited, presumably for him to object, then continued. “Say she has your cotton-candy addiction, plus a memory and an emotion she associates with you. But she wants to find you to, well, drag your sorry ass to Hell and hand you over to dear old Dad to get on his good side. Even if she doesn’t focus on that, the end-goal will always be present. And that end-goal involves her, ultimately, rather than you, which shifts the spell’s focus and makes it inconclusive.” Sera smoothed back the remaining locks of hair. “Anyway, that’s what I mean when I say they’re complicated. They require a ton of concentration, conscious and subconscious thought, and you really gotta know who you’re trying to find. So the odds of her or anyone finding us are slim to none. Really, just none. Unless she’s hitting every motel in the area just on a hunch.”
Colin considered this. It was possible exhaustion had started to settle in, but everything she’d said made sense—a sort of crystal-clear sense he wouldn’t have thought possible even an hour earlier. Seemed the further he delved into this world and the more complicated it became, the more reasonable it struck him.
Though there was one gaping hole in her tidy explanation.
“But she found us on the road. You said she knew where to be.”
Sera nodded, the troubled look returning. She circled the chair and knelt in front of him, her focus still intent on his hair. “Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know exactly how that happened.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“But there are explanations…probably the sort I don’t understand ’cause I’ve never been to Hell.” Sera shifted her gaze to his, held it for a handful of seconds, then returned to her task. “In Heaven, since we’re looking at this world through a window, the rules are a bit different. We are issued a target and a gateway opens. Once we’re on this side, we play by Earth rules.”
“A gateway?”
“Portal, dimension wormhole…whatever you wanna call it.” She offered a flat grin. “Demonic and angelic activity on this side is rigidly policed. Opening a gateway isn’t easy. Timing is key—every window that opens has to close, and usually within a day or so. And we usually only get one window or so every couple hundred years. Unless we’re kicked out for good or put on probation.”
“What if you’re Fallen?” Colin asked. “You’re Fallen, aren’t you?”
“Ah…in spirit.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Sera sat back on her knees at last, her hands falling to her lap. She looked at him dead on. “You know my feelings on Heaven.”
He nodded.
“Well, as a result, I don’t wanna be stuck there. At all. Ever. Some angels are content to just…I dunno, count clouds or kiss holy ass. That was never my style. I want to be on Earth as much as possible ‘cause this place is awesome, which is not a point of view that’s necessarily celebrated.” She rolled her eyes and pointed skyward. “Up there, serving God is considered the holy grail of angelic achievement.”
Colin couldn’t help it—he smirked. “Holy grail? Really?”
“If the cup fits…”
He chuckled. “So, you’re considered Fallen because you don’t want to sit on your ass all day.”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re not actually Fallen.”
“If you mean in the sense that I don’t have any ties to the Lord, no. Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Is it even possible? Not having ties?”
Sera drew still, then released a long, trembling breath. At once, she seemed to be struggling again to maintain eye contact. “So they say.”
“What? So who say?”
She didn’t respond, instead pretended to be intent on evening out his hair.
“Sera, what—”
“I don’t know,” she barked, her fierce tone jolting through him like an electric shock. “I don’t know what comes with walking away. When you’re created, it’s with a single purpose. To serve. I don’t know what humans feel, but the connection to God as an angel is…it’s everything. Even if you’re like me and can’t stand the idea of being tethered to a place as eternally boring as Heaven. No matter how far I get from home, I feel that connection. I know where I belong. Always. I can ignore it or I can embrace it, but I’m never alone. I’m always…a part of it.”
Colin blinked, unable to recognize where her sudden vehemence had come from, but her voice was harsh and her eyes were angry, like she was a breath away from losing it entirely. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to… I was just curious. I didn’t know if it was possible or not.”
“Well, it is,” she said. “But cutting yourself off is…it’s death. It’s taking this thing that’s been a part of you for your entire existence and trying to know what or who you are without it. I don’t know any angel who’s done it and not just…faded. They realize they can’t live without the connection to God, and so they try to come back. But they can’t, see. Once you Fall, you can’t come back. Ever.”
A chill whispered down his spine.
“I’ve spent my entire eternity trying to have my cake and eat it, too,” Sera continued, her voice hoarse. “Not wanting to be in Heaven but not being brave enough to not be there. Because this world can tear you up if you’re not careful. I’ve had the luxury of always being one step ahead because I’m on the holy payroll. Anything ever happens to that, and I’m cut off. Completely and forever.”
Colin couldn’t help it. He had to touch her. He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her sweet skin, and coaxed her gaze upward. The day had been a crash course in shattered realities, and while he learned more at every turn, there was so much he had left to understand. Like what it meant to be a demon, why he was special at all, and what the future would look like now that he had been uncovered. But as long as Sera was with him, he found he didn’t care. She gave him calm when he should be screaming.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what for, but feeling the need to apologize all the same. “Whatever I said, I’m sorry.”
Sera blinked, and more of those damnable tears gathered behind her eyes. Before today, he could have counted the number of times he’d seen her cry on one hand. Watching her crack shook his foundation.
“It’s that everything’s different,” she said, then looked away, dismissive. She straightened until she was standing again, then moved aside. He watched her reflection as she gathered the baggie of magical herbs, and then she was before him once more, her face a mask of impassivity.
“Everything is different,” he agreed, doing his best not to flinch when she removed his glasses. The world before him went foggy, Sera’s face transforming into a blurred mesh of familiar lines and colors. “But you knew this was coming.”
“Close your eyes.”
Colin hesitated for a moment, then obeyed. He felt her fingers on his eyelids, and flecks of what he assumed were the herbs left behind. Then those fingers were in his hair, roaming freely across his scalp, chased by shivers and little waves of pleasure he tried but failed to stifle.
“I knew it was coming,” Sera said. Her voice seemed amplified. “I just wasn’t ready.”
“Not ready for what?”
“To lose you.”
“What?” His heart lurched. “Sera, you’re not—”
“Shhh.”
He felt a finger press against his lips, and those pleasurable waves hardened into irritation. There was something she was trying very hard to tell him, or something she couldn’t tell him but very much wanted to. Ever since she’d thrown herself into his arms at Whistler’s, something profound had shifted between them, and he was tired of dancing around it.
“Don’t tell me to shush. You’ve been in a crap mood since—”
“Colin—”
“Goddammit, Sera, you know how I feel. You have to. I—”
She clamped a hand over his mouth, and another over his eyes. “Shut up,” she hissed. “Let me do this, and then you can yell at me.”
He stiffened. His throat immediately backed up with half a dozen arguments, each vying for release, but he managed to keep them down. Instead, not trusting himself to voice his agreement, he dipped his head in a nod.
Fine. Okay.
Nothing happened for a long moment, so long that Colin wondered if the spell—or whatever it was she was intent on doing—involved the quiet game. He remained intently aware of her nearness, the warmth of her skin calling to his. Her scent, fresh from the shower, taunted his nostrils. She always smelled real, if such a thing made sense. More than the girls who drenched themselves in body sprays or perfumes—those who overwhelmed rather than enticed. Sera had smelled of soap, lotion, and deodorant. Clean and sweet, a sensory delight. With her so close now, her unique Sera smell had him hyperaware. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in. Run his hands up her arms and cup her soft cheeks, bring their mouths back together in a tender exploration of what they had started earlier.
He wanted to stop pretending.
Then, when he was certain she wouldn’t, she spoke.
“For those who seek, change the sight.” The soft pads of her fingers brushed his forehead and drew a pattern his brain couldn’t follow. “For those who seek, change the sight.” Again on his cheek. “For those who seek, change the sight.”
Colin sat still as Sera etched nonsensical shapes on his skin, as she repeated words that stopped making sense after the fifth or sixth recitation. Rather, he again retreated within himself, his brain returning to the endless question mark that was Sera and everything that had occurred today. To her refusal to discuss the kiss or what it meant. To her unprovoked outburst at his questioning what it meant to be a Fallen Angel. What she meant about having her cake and eating it and, most troubling of all, what she’d said about losing him.
Did she really think that was possible? Didn’t she know how hers he was? Today should have proven that beyond the shadow of a doubt. If his love for her could withstand learning what he’d learned, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep her in his life.
Sera didn’t have a choice in the matter. She was not losing him. It just wouldn’t happen.
“Colin.”
The sound of his name cut through the auditory fog, and he jerked back to himself.
“You can open your eyes now,” she said.
And he did.
Only to find himself staring at the mirror, and into the eyes of a stranger.
Well, not a stranger. He knew those eyes, and the nose between them. He knew the mouth, the jaw, the cheekbones. But something was wrong. First of all, his vision was clear. Really clear, and Sera hadn’t returned his glasses. His hair was also different—granted, he’d known to expect that since she’d taken scissors to it, but it looked…good. Almost stylish. Not too short, but not the mess of curls that had bobbed their greeting every day of his life. The strands looked darker, a deep brown—with an artsy name like sable—rather than the plain, boring shade he’d known for years.
He blinked.
The image remained.
“I…”
Sera appeared in his line of vision. She, too, looked different. Her vibrant green eyes reflected brightly at him, accenting the mahogany shine of her hair. Several inches had been chopped along with his. And her bangs were gone. Presto, like…magic.
“Sera…”
She flashed him a wholly Sera smile. “You totally thought I was taking you for a ride, didn’t you?”
“You fixed my eyesight.”
“You noticed, huh?”
“And your…” He stood on legs he didn’t trust not to wobble, reached out and brushed his fingers across her brow. “Here I thought you couldn’t cut your bangs off.”
“I didn’t. Just…a little spell. Some magic herbs.” She shrugged as though it made little difference—as though his mind wasn’t trying to piece itself together after having been thoroughly blown. “Unfortunately, when you live among the humans, you have to do things their way. That means no using magic for your own gain. No matter how much easier it’d make pretty much everything.”
Colin shook his head, disbelief raging against proof. “I…I just…I…”
Sera laughed, and the sound was so damn welcome, he could have wept. “Dude,” she said in that wonderful, familiar way of hers, “you literally saw me in the air earlier. I pulled a weapon out of my ass, remember?”
“Your ass? I think I would’ve remembered that.”
“Well, close enough.” She grinned. “Are you telling me this is what does it for you?”
Colin’s gaze shifted back to the mirror. “I guess I…it’s been a long day, all right?”
She sobered at that. “Yeah. I hear you.”
He looked to her again, and he realized in that moment how close she was. Close enough to feel her body’s inviting warmth pulling him in. To see the outline of her breasts against the skimpy tank top she wore, to practically feel their weight against his achingly empty hands.
His gaze fixed on her mouth, his treacherous mind drawing him back to those amazing moments at the carnival. His body, already distracted with thoughts of her breasts, sent out a vague warning that he was nearing a mental danger zone, and his wardrobe selection wasn’t what he’d call discreet.
But then he didn’t care. Sera had to know what she did to him. She’d writhed against his cock earlier, welcomed him between the haven of her thighs. Had it not been for the audience, Colin had little doubt they would have crossed the sort of line they couldn’t ignore. Not that they were succeeding at ignoring this one. No matter how much she tried, nothing could convince him that their kiss hadn’t been on her mind. And he’d barely been able to think of anything else.
Now she was here. So close. Her intoxicating scent dulling the sharper areas of his mind to the point where he wasn’t sure why reaching for her was a bad idea. Why he’d drawn lines in his head, why he hadn’t pursued what he wanted from the moment he’d realized he wanted it.
Right now and always, he wanted Sera.
And from the way she was looking at him, Sera wanted him, too.
Colin didn’t want to chance he was wrong. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to live in a world where this wasn’t what he was meant for. So when he reached for her, he shut his brain off—he just needed to feel.
But he wasn’t alone. Sera met him halfway. Her arms wound around his neck the moment his hands banded on her hips, and their mouths came together in a furious frenzy of need. A white hot shard of relief bolted through his body—relief, triumph, and something else he couldn’t name. Colin fought a moan and lost, but he didn’t care, too busy caught up in the sensation that was his every nerve rejoicing.
Yes.
He pushed her back until she hit the bathroom counter, then lifted her to sit on the edge. Her legs parted, and he eased between them, his straining cock prying against the slit in front of his boxers, eager for her warmth. Her touch. Her anything. But Colin forced himself to ignore the inward throb, instead focusing on the sweet sounds she made as her lips battled his. He’d known, fuck he’d known, that what had happened earlier couldn’t be a fluke. It had to be more than getting caught in the moment. The way she had kissed him, the way her mouth tore at his, how her tongue prodded and explored, spoke of hunger he knew all too well. She wanted him the way he wanted her.
The realization would have sent him to his knees had he not ample motivation to remain right where he was. With his hands on her, his hips rocking forward so that the crest of his cotton-clad erection rubbed her just where he wanted to go most of all.
Slowly, he drew his fingers up and down her sides, testing to see if she’d push him away. She didn’t. Instead, Sera fisted the material of his shirt and drew him nearer, her mouth hot and demanding, small whimpers scratching at her throat and driving him out of his fucking head.
Her wordless encouragement bolstered his courage. Colin captured her lower lip between his teeth and tugged as his hands settled beneath her breasts. She gasped and wiggled, pressing herself closer, and he took the invitation to flick his thumbs over her pebbled nipples. She shuddered hard, a soft, sexy-as-fuck mewl peeling off her lips and going straight to his cock. So he did it again, then slipped a hand under the hem of her shirt to feel her skin-to-skin.
More. He needed more.
But her warmth was gone the next second, and he found the ground beneath his feet had betrayed him. It took a moment for his head to catch up with the present, to register the pressure at his chest and the defeated sob that had sounded from her lips. To realize she’d shoved him back.
Colin blinked slowly. Sera sat on the countertop, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
What the hell had just happened?
He breathed hard, willing his body to calm, but he was too revved for that. A flame burst to life somewhere within him, fanned by the same whisper of anger that had claimed him at the carnival. It was an easy switch to make, aroused to pissed off; with his emotions strung out, he barely noted the change.
“Is it me?” he asked, his voice rough. “I’m a demon. You’re an angel. Is that it?”
Sera didn’t respond. She kept her face buried in her hands, her body rocking back and forth in short, jerky motions.
“Because,” Colin continued, “I didn’t ask for that. I don’t know what it means to be a demon. If that makes me evil or something…if it makes me someone you can’t be with. If that’s it, I don’t want any part of it.”
Still no response.
“Is that it?” he demanded, slightly shrill. “Is that what you haven’t told me? That becoming a demon—or getting my powers, whatever it is—that’ll make me something else? ‘Cause I don’t want to be something else. I want to be this. With you.”
She began shaking her head. Still, her hands remained on her face.
“I love you, Sera. I’ve been in love with you for years. You have to know that.”
A hard sound erupted from her lips, something between a sob and a scream.
“This isn’t exactly a bombshell,” he continued. “My loving you. I’m not good at hiding it. And yeah, telling you like this wasn’t on my list of things to do, but you gotta know. If it’s you or whatever I’m supposed to do, I take you any day. Being a demon wasn’t on my bucket list to begin with, but if I can’t—”
“Stop.”
The plea was soft but managed to cut through the white noise surrounding his head. It didn’t sound like a hopeful plea, either. Something reinforced when Sera finally lowered her hands and looked at him with dull eyes.
Colin swallowed. “It’s the demon thing, isn’t it?”
“No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “It’s not. I just…” She turned her head, drawing her gaze away, and brought her plump lower lip between her teeth. “We can’t do this.”
“But—”
“No, Colin. I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”
Sera expelled a deep breath, then seemingly forced herself to look at him again, as though knowing he’d need to see it in her eyes. The finality of what she was telling him. And he did need to, because the words, while she spoke them, sounded nothing like her. Nothing like the Sera he’d known for years. The one he’d fallen in love with. The woman who had been warm and passionate in his arms just moments ago.
This was a Sera he didn’t know.
Sera swallowed hard and slid off the counter, crossing her arms and hunching inward. “Excuse me,” she said, and disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed hard behind her.
Colin stood still for a long moment, staring at the space she had abandoned. At the mirror, which reflected a version of himself he didn’t recognize. After a few long seconds—minutes, hours, who was counting?—he heard the shower start to run again. Second time tonight. Apparently, Sera didn’t feel clean anymore.
He didn’t either, but it wasn’t a problem a shower could fix.
He didn’t know what could.
Except the part of him clinging to the world he’d known this morning had vanished. Tell him he was a demon, and he could handle it. But losing Sera was the one thing he didn’t think he’d survive.
And lost her he had, because the woman who had pushed him away wasn’t Sera. Even if friends was all they remained, the Sera he loved—the Sera he’d known—was full of bravado and fight. His Sera would have slapped him, called him names, laughed in his fucking face…but not retreat. Never retreat.
He knew how to handle Sera.
He didn’t know the woman who had disappeared into the shower.
And that, more than anything he’d seen or learned today, terrified him the most.