Page 95 of Fallen Court

I stared at him, uncertainty digging a pit in my stomach. “Could you do that to your family?”

“I would if I could.” Sadness tainted the resolution in his voice. “If I could have them compelled and get them away from all of this, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

I could tell he meant it. And maybe he was right. Maybe it was selfish to keep Channing around, but wanting him in my life wasn’t the only reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“You’re forgetting something.” I pulled out of his arms, shaking my head. “Oberon knows who Channing is. If we send him away, what’s to stop Oberon from going after him to…?”

I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

To get to me.

I had something Oberon wanted, and I’d fucked up his plans by escaping. If Channing left New Orleans, I had no doubt that Oberon would go after him.

“Then we keep them close,” he said, and I knew he was talking about everyone we loved—all the people who would be dragged into Oberon’s war—if it came to it.

Lach reached for me, and I returned gratefully to his arms. We were both responsible for the mess we’d made, and whether we cleaned it up or waded through it, we’d be doing it together. He held me closely as we let the weight of our choices settle over us until finally, he broke the silence. “So, what’s in the bag?”

I bit back a grin. “Our costumes.”

“The way you said that makes me nervous,” he admitted, and my mouth split into a wider smile.

I grabbed his collar and hauled him in for a kiss. “Don’t you trust me?”

“In theory.” He reached for the bag, but I shooed his hand away. “You really aren’t going to tell me?”

And risk him backing out? “Hell no.”

“I bet I can get it out of you.”

“And how are you going to do that, Gage?”

His hands crept up my rib cage. “You forget I’m fluent in torture.”

I shrieked as he tickled me. “Stop!”

He did instantly, his teasing expression now strained as he backed away, putting distance between our bodies. I’d triggered his protective instinct, but I wasn’t ready to win. Part of me didn’t want to win at all.

I planted a hand on my hip and leveled a challenge. “Is that all you’ve got?”

He must have understood the assignment, because I was off my feet and over his shoulder a second later. I batted playfully at his back as he carried me toward our bedroom, the costumes forgotten.

For now.

“Oh, princess,” he said, “you have no idea how persuasive I can be.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cate

Not only had Lach’s methods failed to extort what was in the costume bag, he’d been too busy the last few days with the secret business of running the city to continue his so-called torture. In fact, he barely had time to come to bed at all. By the time Halloween morning finally showed her face, I was ready to murder someone to get his attention.

By the evening, he still hadn’t shown despite a dozen texts promising he was on his way, and I was losing patience with him.

“Ignore it,” I told Ciara as my phone buzzed on the bathroom counter.

She plucked up the phone anyway, her lips pursing in disapproval at whatever the latest text read. “I say you withhold sex to teach him a lesson.”

“But that would be a punishment for me.” I took the phone from her, turning the alerts off. Any guilt I felt over the costume I’d chosen for him was long gone.