Sapphire Flames (Hidden Legacy) - Ilona Andrews Page 0,91

arcane goo out of holes in your skin. Be a big girl and deal.”

Ow.

By the time I told her the story and my wounds were treated, it felt like I had no skin left. Or rather I had skin, but it was on fire.

“Where’s your Italian now?”

“In the old fire station building. He isn’t mine.”

Grandma Frida chuckled. “I think boatneck.”

“What?”

“For your wedding dress. It would be very flattering on you.”

“Grandma!”

Grandma Frida rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I never canceled my subscription to Brides magazine.”

I jumped off the stool. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this.”

Grandma Frida hugged me. The familiar scent of engine oil and gunpowder enveloped me.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. I know you think nobody notices, but we all do. You go take that shower now.”

I hugged her back and went to the door.

“What do you want me to do with your bin?” She pointed at Lawrence’s plastic coffin.

“Could you lock it in the cage for safekeeping. Don’t open it.”

“Will do,” Grandma promised.

I snuck upstairs into my room before my mom also noticed my punctures, went to the bathroom, stripped off my torn clothes, and stepped into the shower. I didn’t even look at myself in the mirror. The sharp sting of open cuts let me know exactly where I was hurt.

Shadow assumed a devoted vigil outside the shower door.

The hot water hit me, sending a fresh pulse of pain through my wounds. I cried out and cringed. Body wash was going to suck.

Gobs of translucent bug ichor splatted on to the tiles of the shower floor. I reached up and touched my hair. It was like sticking my fingers into half-set Jell-O. Ugh. I poured way too much shampoo into my hand and started working it into my hair.

Tomorrow I would have to meet with Heart and figure out how much our new security was going to cost us and where we were going to get the money for it. I had a pretty good idea of how to get some quick cash for the deposit but I knew Grandma Frida wasn’t going to like it.

Finally, the water ran clear. I stepped out, smelling of lemon and lavender, dried my hair with a towel, and carefully wrapped another big, soft, fluffy white towel around myself. I only whimpered twice as I did it. I was a big girl and I dealt.

My dog was gone. Well, her devotion was short-lived.

I dragged my brush through my hair. It got stuck. Great. This would take a while.

I walked out of the bathroom, keeping my movements small to prevent the towel from rubbing me too much and trying to not rip all my hair out with my brush.

Alessandro lay on my bed, petting Shadow.

I squeaked and hurled the brush at his head.

He snatched it out of the air. “Stop throwing things at me.”

“Stop being in my room. Stop being on my bed. I’m wearing a towel!” And why had I just pointed that out?

He took a slow look from my feet all the way to my eyes. “Yes, you are.”

All of my thoughts derailed. My body recalled how it felt to be held by him in every vivid detail. Safe, and warm, and exciting. His carved chest under my cheek, his washboard stomach, the heat of his body, his arms around me . . .

I clamped the towel to my chest and pointed at the window. “Get out.”

He sat up, unhurried, confident, like a big cat stretching, and got up to his feet. If I could have recorded it in slow motion and then posted it online, I’d break Instagram.

“We need to decide what to do about Linus Duncan,” he said.

“We have to tell him,” I said. “His life might be in danger. Also, he might have a reasonably good idea why Diatheke is trying to kill him.”

“Do you think he’ll answer our questions?”

“I don’t know. He’s sort of a family friend, so he might. I’ll call him first thing tomorrow. Alessandro, do you know who Magdalene is?”

“No.”

“More for tomorrow.”

He was looking at me like he was thinking of stealing my towel. And I wanted him to.

No. Bad idea. Really, really bad idea.

A hint of a smile played at his lips. He looked evil. “What are you thinking right now?”

“Nothing.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Thinking about wearing nothing?”

“Out.”

Alessandro sighed. “I’m so tired. Are you sure I can’t just rest right here? I promise to behave. Unless you don’t want me to.”

Yes. No!

“Alessandro,” I pronounced each word

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