Page 45 of Oblivion
“I’ve had this for a very long time,” he mumbled, and my hand went straight for the pendant lying on my chest now. “It was supposed to be your birthday gift, but, eh…” He shrugged. “We kinda weren’t talking.”
We both started laughing just as he stepped back, letting me eye the pendant.
A small dagger lay on my skin, with a red ruby etched into its handle. It looked almost the same as the first dagger I ever had. The first one I ever used to kill someone. While it should’ve been bittersweet and something I wouldn’t want to remember, I knew what Cillian was trying to do.
We all had our ups and downs, but just like I could see his struggle, he could see mine as well. Today, more than ever, I needed a reminder of who I was and what I was capable of. I needed to remember that I could be both Heaven and Hell.
Thank you, I mouthed, looking at him.
Cillian simply nodded and disappeared back toward the kitchen. I could hear his and Tristan’s hushed voices, but they quickly quieted as Eric started talking, pulling my attention back to him.
“Now,” he grinned, “it’s time for the dress.”
* * *
“Will you stop fidgeting?”Cillian barked as soon as we parked in front of the church, his eyes scanning the area, staring at all the people walking toward the entrance.
“I hate weddings,” I murmured, scratching at my face, and immediately remembering there was makeup there now. “I hate funerals as well, but weddings…” I cringed. “They’re the worst.”
“Well,” he looked at me, “you’ll survive. This isn’t a social call. We’re here to talk to Nico and to get the Romanos on our side.”
“Trust me, they’re already on our side. I just need to get him to listen. I hate doing this on his wedding day.”
“Since when do you care if it’s his wedding or not?” He scowled and exited the car.
I followed shortly after, slamming the door harder than necessary. “Since I’m trying to be a better person, douchebag. Since I’m trying to be a better friend.”
He looked toward the church and then back at me, relaxing momentarily. “I know.” He huffed. “I know. I’m just not too comfortable being here. Nightingales and Italians are not exactly best of friends. Not to mention that someone could start talking and all our efforts would go up in flames.”
“Since when are Nightingales and Italians not talking?” I frowned.
“Since always, Ophelia. You’re not the only one with a target on her back.”
He turned his back to me and started walking toward the grand staircase in front of the church. People were taking photos, laughing, genuinely enjoying the day, yet here I was, already annoyed at my friend.
I caught up with him in a matter of seconds, striding over the gravel road, miraculously well in these heels, and took his hand.
“We need to chill,” I murmured, eyeing the other guests. “Both of us. I’m pretty sure that there will be people here who won’t be too happy seeing the two of us together. I’m also sure that the news of you working with me will travel faster than I want it to.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about, too.”
The crowd cheered and sang with the live band that was playing in front of the church, and I wondered if this was a typical Italian wedding or if they were just winging it however they wanted it to go. Eyes were plastered on us, and I already recognized some of the guests, scowling as soon as they noticed me.
“That’s Chiara Romano,” I murmured, looking at the dark-haired girl standing with a guy I didn’t know.
Her emerald-green dress hugged her body, showcasing her bare back much like mine was. But where mine fell in loose waves against my backside, hers was a tight fit, revealing the tattoo of a snake that took up more than half of her back.
The last time I saw Chiara, she was holding a man at gunpoint, with her heel right on top of his crotch. People thought I was insane, but they should meet her.
A bright smile took over her face the moment she spotted me, and I knew she wasn’t faking it.
“Ophelia?” she asked, her eyes widening, shock evident in them. “What are you doing here? I thought… I thought you were dead.”
She all but ran toward me, ignoring all the other guests that were trying to get her attention. I let go of Cillian who stepped aside at the same moment she slammed into me, hugging me to her. She might have looked small and frail, but she was one of the fiercest women I had ever met.
“It’s been too long, my dear friend,” she mumbled into my ear and stepped back to look at me. “And you look stunning. Holy shit, am I glad you aren’t dead. I was about to head down South to kick someone’s ass as soon as the news reached me.”
“You do, too.” I smiled, forcing my heart to calm down. “I’m here because your cousin invited me. As for the wholeOphelia Aster is dead story, well,” I chuckled, “I’m gonna tell you all about it later.”
