Page 150 of Harbinger

“What’s funny?” I ask.

He glances at me, letting that smile slip through. There’s nothing wicked about it. It finds his eyes in a way that makes my heart hurt. “Nothing … It’s just nice to have something to count on.”

There’s something so safe in that smile that my entire body forgets that I’ve been destroying it for weeks and actually relaxes. But somewhere deep down—in a place I’m starting to build a wall around—I know that feeling safe with him might be my next mistake.

“Do you ever sleep?” a cheerful voice asks the next morning.

I glance up from the rosebush I’m carefully removing to find both Taliesin and Vessica in the garden. I shoot a glare at the oscen. It usually warns me when we have company.

Vessica glides toward the fountain, eyes slightly glazed like she can’t believe it’s actually working.

Taliesin shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s nice to see you’ve taken up a hobby other than getting under Bishop’s skin.”

I fight a sigh and lose. How does he make everything sound like a flirtation? The man could read the Civicus out loud at a bar and get someone to go home with him. Thankfully, I’m immune to his charms. “What do you want, Taliesin?”

I’m certain the visit has something to do with the note I found from Bishop this morning, informing me that he had business in Florentia that couldn’t wait.

If he asked these two to step in … I’m just getting comfortable with the sword. Bishop doesn’t mock me. I’m not sure I can count on Taliesin or Vessica to do the same.

Taliesin leans against the fountain, which I’ve finally gotten to work after unclogging its small pump. “I thought I might accompany you to the baths.”

Okay, that’s not where I thought this was going.

I sit back on my heels, brushing dirt off my gloves, and look at both of them in turn. “Did he put you up to this?”

“What do you think?” Vessica asks sourly.

But Taliesin shakes his head.

“It was my idea,” he says, spreading his hands, his eyes widening in what is potentially the least convincing display of innocence ever performed.

Vessica sighs with resignation and goes back to fishing fallen leaves out of the fountain.

“I figured you might want a friend with you,” Taliesin continues.

Going alone is not what keeps me away from the bathhouse. Not that I’m about to explain myself to him. “I’m not doing anything that involves being naked with you.”

“Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest. “You wound me. Truly.”

The oscen soars overhead as if trying to determine why we have visitors again. It lands on a nearby branch, its beady eyes trained on Taliesin like it doesn’t trust him.

He stares back at it. “I think your pet hates me.”

“It’s not my pet.” I’m just the one who let it out of that cage. I guess that’s why we’re bonded. “It’s … my companion.”

“A familiar?” He laughs, shaking his head. “That doesn’t make you sound like a witch at all.”

I freeze at the words, and a second later, Taliesin yelps. “What the fuck, Vess?”

He turns, twisting in an attempt to look over his own shoulder—where Vessica’s dagger is planted about an inch deep. He glares at her as he pulls it out.

She swipes it from him, not an ounce of concern on her face. “Why don’t you hit the infirmary?”

His eyes narrow before he waves a hand at her. Looking down at me, he grins. “If you change your mind …”

I nod, trying to keep laughter from bubbling out of me. “Sure. I’ll just follow the trail of blood.”

Taliesin grumbles under his breath as he leaves, one hand pressed over the fresh wound.