Echo was roused from her slumber by the shrill sound of Stravinsky streaming from her phone. With a muffled curse, she blinked awake. The curtains were partially open, and sunlight fell in bright beams against the library floor. She had changed her ringtone countless times, but Jasper insisted on stealing her phone away to set it back to Stravinsky’s Firebird, no matter how much the song grated on her. Every time the phone rang, the frantic strings wreaked havoc on her nerves.
Grumbling about shrill violins, she groped at the floor beside the daybed, where she had a vague recollection of depositing her jeans the night before. A warm, solid weight was thrown over her midriff, pinning her in place. As wakefulness replaced the slow stupidity of sleep, Echo remembered to feel embarrassed about the position she was in.
It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up beside Caius. However, it was the first time she’d woken up beside Caius absent certain pieces of clothing. She had pulled on his sweater sometime in the night when the brisk evening had proven too cold, even with his body acting as her own personal furnace, but she was suddenly very aware of the way his skin felt against her bare legs.
Stravinsky looped as the phone continued to ring, starting the Firebird suite from the top. Echo tried to shove Caius’s arm away, but her efforts met only with a string of incoherent grumbling in Drakhar, and his nose buried deeper in the crook of her shoulder. He hooked his ankle around hers, ensuring her captivity.
“Go back to sleep,” he mumbled. He was awake, but he didn’t bother opening his eyes as he burrowed closer.
“My phone,” Echo said, though her conviction was wearing thin in the face of Caius and his strong arms and his sleepy drawl and his mussed hair. And his everything else.
“Let them leave a message.” Caius’s voice was muffled by her neck, his words warm puffs of air against the column of her throat.
Abruptly, the sound of Stravinsky fell silent.
“See?” Caius said. “They’re leaving a message.”
The phone rang again. Caius swore. Echo wasn’t sure if it was her imagination playing tricks on her or if the strings seemed even more frantic than usual.
Groaning in frustration, she rolled as far as she could toward the pile of her clothes with Caius still holding her. She spotted her phone sticking out of a pocket of her crumpled jeans, the screen blinking with the caller ID. She reached for it, but it was just far enough to be out of reach of her wiggling fingers.
“It’s Ivy,” Echo said. Caius harrumphed something that might have been acknowledgment. His arm loosened around her middle, his hand coming to rest on her hip. His thumb brushed the bare skin there. Echo flushed. The easy familiarity with which he touched her was strange, though not at all unwelcome. She shimmied out of his grasp, but not off the daybed completely, and grabbed her phone. With a swipe of her thumb, she silenced Stravinsky, making a note to delete the blasted ringtone from her phone once and for all. Jasper would probably just download it again. Bastard.
“Hey, Ivy,” Echo said as she brought the phone up to her ear. “This had better be good.”
“Oh, Firebird, I assure you. It is.”
Echo’s blood turned to ice. She sat up, her hand clutching the phone hard enough to make the plastic casing creak in protest. Caius looked at her, his brows raised in question. The hand on her hip stilled.
“Tanith.” On Ivy’s phone. Fury blazed through Echo; power sparked at her fingertips. The connection crackled with static as her grip on the phone tightened, her hand hot with magic. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Tanith replied, her tone full of false sweetness. “Yet.” Her voice went distant as she talked to someone on the other end. Echo couldn’t make out the words, but they had the air of a sharply spoken command. She heard the sound of shuffling, as if the phone was being jostled.
The noise ceased, and a sobbing breath came through, loud and clear. “Echo?”
Relief slammed into Echo, hard enough to make her lose her grip on the phone. She caught it with her other hand and brought it up to her ear. “Ivy? Are you okay?”
“Echo, I’m here, I’m okay, but it’s a trap, don’t listen —”
The sound of flesh hitting flesh cut off Ivy’s words. The impact had a meaty sound to it, like a punch. Fire flared up Echo’s free hand, licking all the way to her elbow. All thought of control fled as she imagined Tanith striking Ivy.
I’m going to kill you, you piece of shit.
“Enough of that,” came Tanith’s voice. “The little dove is alive and well. For now.”
“If you hurt Ivy —”
“You’ll what? Set me on fire?” Tanith asked, breaking into a short, mad laugh. “Run me through with that little dagger of yours? We all saw how well that went when that sly little fox tried it. I’d even stand still to let you have a go if you wish. See if you can draw blood this time. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? My blood. Come and get it, if you dare.”
Echo pushed herself off the daybed and began fumbling for her clothes. She put the phone on speaker and tossed it onto the cushions as she attempted to pull her jeans on. Caius followed suit, dressing himself in haste. The tangle of denim proved a struggle for her trembling hands and she gave up on the jeans. “What do you want, Tanith? I’m so fucking sick of your games.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you, Firebird.”
“Then leave Ivy out of it.” Echo didn’t trust that Tanith was telling the truth, that she hadn’t harmed Ivy. The thought of her in that monster’s clutches – again – sent Echo’s stomach roiling with a wave of fearful nausea. “Let her go.”
“Oh, I intend to,” Tanith promised. “Once you come home.”