AFTER RUNNING from the Hawthorne Hotel, Clay and I fled for a few miles on foot. “Keep your head down and away from any cameras,” Clay said to me as we raced along the street.

When we were finally tucked up into a cab, Clay told me that he’d managed to secure a secret place for us to stay after seeing me near the shop. I was partly expecting the cab to pull up in front of a dilapidated warehouse like the one he’d stayed in while we were in Charlotte, but instead we stopped in front of a beautiful Sheraton. The lobby was housed in a separate colonial style building with massive arched windows that faced the road. A warm yellow light flooded out through the wide openings, casting a glow over the perfectly manicured gardens.

“Wow!” I exclaimed quietly.

The rest of the hotel rose from behind the front building, but it mostly blended into the inky night sky.

“You like it?” Clay asked.

“Like it? It’s beautiful.” I didn’t even bother to ask how much a room cost per night, because it was likely to be more than I could afford—especially after wasting precious funds on the other expensive room that would no longer see any use. I had no idea where Clay got the money for it, but then again when he’d left me in Charlotte, he’d left a few thousand with me as if it meant nothing.

“Then let’s head inside,” Clay said before throwing some money at the driver. By the time we were safely ensconced in the hotel elevator, my feet were aching and my body was tense from excess energy. I rested against the mirrored wall and closed my eyes to try to recover from the massive shift that had occurred in my life over the last twenty-four hours. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me carefully.

“I have something to admit,” he said when he realized I was watching him.

“What’s that?”

“It’s silly, but I booked this room with the hope that you’d be with me tonight.”

“Why’s that silly?”

“I hoped I could make good on a promise I made to you a long time ago.” His mouth broke into a wicked grin, but he refused to say anything more.

The elevator opened before I had a chance to coerce anything more out of him.

Once he’d led me to our room, I slipped off my shoes as I surreptitiously watched Clay’s movement.

“Home sweet home,” he said.

The words caused a grin to spread over my lips. I still couldn’t believe I was back with him again. It seemed surreal that against all odds I’d found him and, more miraculously, that he still cared for me. It was enough to make me deliriously happy. Although I did have some pressing concerns.

“Why are we waiting here anyway?” I asked. We’d only traveled as far as Wakefield—far too close to the action for my liking.

He stretched his neck from side to side before sliding off his jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair. As he moved, his white business shirt pulled taut across the sinuous muscles that ran across his back. Each of them rippled when he rolled his shoulders and neck. It was clear in the way he moved that he had as much tension roiling through his body as I had twisting in mine.

I was ready to push all the questions and concerns out of my mind and run my fingertips over each of the tiny muscles on his neck. Or maybe my tongue.

Clay stopped the progression of my thoughts into actions when he answered my question. “As soon as they discover I’ve gone, they’ll go through the security tapes. It won’t take them long to realize you’re not as dead as they thought. When they work that out, they’ll expect us to run,” he said.

His reached his arm behind him; the flex of his biceps made me clench my thighs together. I longed to have his arms around me again, to have him pull me close and hold me tightly with his new strength.

“By the time they’ve figured out that we didn’t leave tonight,” he continued.

It was only when I saw what he was reaching for that my focus shifted to the handgun, tucked into a holster that rested low on his back. The sight both terrified and comforted me. Between the muscles that now formed his hardened body and the piece he carried, I was certain he was more than strong enough to protect me. He tugged his gun from its holster. Under any other circumstances, the action would’ve terrified me. With Clay, it was different—he had my complete trust.

He set the gun on the table. How often had he needed to use it? I decided against asking—I wasn’t sure that I actually wanted to know. No doubt the number was higher than anything I could fathom.

“We’ll be long gone in the opposite direction. It will give us a better head start.” He turned back toward me, catching my gaze and offering me a quizzical expression in response to something he saw on my expression. His chest stretched the white business shirt taut.

My breath caught at the sight, and desire spun in my stomach.

“You’re certain about that?” I asked, wanting to confirm that we were safe. I had to know that much before I could act on my rising needs.

Reluctantly, I turned away from him, knowing that if I didn’t we’d never finish our conversation. I pulled off the wig he’d given me to wear and released my hair from its ponytail. When my hair was free, I tousled it with my fingers to allow me to look a little more like myself again.

“I’m sure.” Clay wrapped his hands around my shoulders. “Besides, we’ll be safe tonight. They’ll be too busy with the gathering to worry about us.”

Dread filled the pit of my stomach, wiping away the desire that had built a second earlier. I was somewhat relieved that Clay couldn’t see my expression because I was certain he’d find it offensive. “What will they do to them?”

“They’ll do what the Rain always does. Cleanse the world.”

His answer had been what I’d expected, but that wasn’t enough to stop a violent shudder from ripping through me. I should have done more to warn the girls in the bathroom what was coming. I shook free of Clay’s hold and spun back toward him. The dread twisted to something stronger and I jutted my chin out. “But that’s murder.”

“Witches aren’t people, Evie,” he said, reaching for me with a sad little smile.

I stepped back. The words might’ve been intended them for me, but I bristled at them regardless. According to the Rain, I fell into that category too. Was I “not people” to Clay as well?

He held out his arm again. When I ignored it, the unintentional implication of his words must’ve struck him. His expression softened as he reached for me again. This time, he stepped forward and didn’t allow me the chance to refuse him again. “I didn’t mean it like that, Evie. The Rain doesn’t believe that anything not human is a person.”

Unwilling to fight from his hold despite my anger, I pressed my cheek against his chest. “But they have families.”

“Not all of them,” he said. “There are some creatures out there that are pure evil. Trust me, I know. Lou . . .” he trailed off.

“What?”

He seemed to debate for a moment, as if weighing the choice between telling me the truth and staying loyal to his family. Meeting my eye, the explanation seemed to fall from him in a rush. “Lou . . . she was replaced by a changeling when we were little. Dad was already in the Rain so he recognized the switch almost immediately, but we didn’t get her back until we were almost five. We lost Mom during the search, and Lou’s life was irrevocably shaped by the years she spent away from us. The things she endured . . . well, no child should have to suffer those things.”

“Who would do such a thing?” I asked as I placed my palm on his cheek to comfort him.

“It was the fucking fairies,” he growled.

My mind raced with thoughts of Aiden and his court. For the most part, they’d treated me like I was one of them. I’d never seen any signs of torture or stealing children. The fledglings I’d encountered were all fae. But then Aiden’s warnings about the Unseelies crossed my mind. He’d never gone into too many details, but from the little he’d told me, what Clay described didn’t seem outside of the realm of possibility for them.

“It was a fifty-fifty chance. They could have taken me instead. It was only pure luck that they didn’t.” His eyes told me that, to some degree, he blamed himself for what his sister had suffered through.

Rather than trying to correct Clay, to explain that it had to be an Unseelie court, and stir up his emotions more, I tried to comfort him. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

“I was just a baby,” he said robotically, nodding slowly.

They were obviously words he’d been told all his life; words he still didn’t believe.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated.

He smiled weakly before reaching for my hair, smoothing it out to tame the mess that the wig had caused. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say something more, but he closed his eyes at the last second.

“You never even had a chance to show off in your impressive dress tonight,” he said as he opened his eyes and guided me around in a slow circle like he had during our dance in the warehouse. He was changing the subject, but I could sense he needed it more than he’d ever say. I didn’t mention that his father had appreciated the dress. It took some effort, but I suppressed the shudder that threatened to race through my body at the thought. I didn’t want to talk about them any more than Clay seemed to.

“Impressive?” I asked, allowing him the shift he needed.

“Definitely impressive,” he said. “But not quite as impressive as the person in it.” His tongue slowly peeked out from between his teeth and swept across his bottom lip.

I laughed. “Flattery will get you a long way.”

His gaze trailed lazily over my body and then he pulled me against him. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, with you.”

I rested my head on his chest as he swayed us in time to an unheard rhythm. It was so reminiscent of our first reunion; I couldn’t help but smile. “Do you remember when you asked whether I thought about prom?”

He nodded. “I remember everything about our time together. Every moment has played on my mind again and again while I wondered what I could have done differently.”

“I wish things could be different too, but I’ve also learned that living with ‘what-ifs’ will only put you in danger.” I placed my hand on his cheek to soothe him. Despite my breakdown after seeing his father earlier, I was exactly where I wanted to be—in Clay’s arms. It was easier to put the sadness out of my mind now that I had someone by my side to help share the burden.

“How can you say that though, Evie? You lost everything. Don’t you ever get angry about the way things are?”

“Of course I do,” I said, twisting away from him. I crossed my arms and brushed my fingers over my arm, tracing a calming path while I tried to find the right words to adequately explain it to him. “There are days when the anger is so strong it’s almost crippling. There are days when I’m so overwhelmed by sadness that I wonder whether it’s worth going on. But it is, it has to be. My dad worked hard to keep me alive for so many years; it would be an insult to his memory if I just gave up.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to admit to Clay exactly how close I had come to giving up before Aiden had healed me. “I can’t do that to him. He deserves better than for me to throw his memory away like that.”

“You inspire me,” he said.

“I shouldn’t.” I turned away in shame. I wasn’t an inspiration to anyone.

“You do, because you’re standing here in front of me right now. You did that. You survived everything the world has thrown at you.”

“What was the alternative?”

He smiled sadly before kissing me softly.

His guard seemed to lower, and I desperately wanted to change the subject to stop the fight. It was a good time to ask him what he’d meant earlier. I had my suspicions. After all, now that we were reunited there was only one pledge he’d yet to fulfill. “You said you were hoping to make good on a promise tonight?”

“Maybe it was a little rash on my part, but yeah,” he admitted. Then his teeth sunk into his bottom lip for a moment before he chuckled. “I believe I promised that I’d make sure our first time was special.”

I stared at him for a moment. He’d arranged the hotel after the briefest glance at me through a crowd of people. Was my desire for him so obvious?

He must have interpreted my surprise as something worse. “I don’t mean. God, I’m not saying that we have to . . . I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, I just . . . Please tell me I haven’t screwed this up before it’s even started.”

I laughed. “Relax. I want it. I want you. You would not believe how often I’ve dreamed of this. Us.”

“Yeah?”

Pushing on his chest gently, I caused him to back up a few steps. Advancing on him, I left less and less room to retreat until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress. Barely giving him a moment to gain his bearings, I pulled the bottom of my dress up to give me the freedom to climb onto the bed and straddle his lap.

“Yeah.”

Grasping the back of his head, I pulled his lips to mine, hungrily devouring his mouth. His body responded without hesitation. His hands roamed across my silk-encased back, drawing long, languid strokes along my spine.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long too,” he admitted. “More than I should have.”

For years, I’d been dreaming of a reunion with Clay. Now that I had him alone, I wanted to ensure the fantasy didn’t eclipse reality. I wanted to experience every last sensation. All the things I’d only been able to imagine before now. Whether it was gentle or hungry, I wanted to lose myself in his touch.

“Are you a . . .” the words seemed to stick in his throat, but I understood what he was trying to ask.

I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

His lips mashed into a hard line, and a frown tinged with both regret and relief creased his brow. I would probably be questioned over it later, but I didn’t care. There wasn’t anything I wanted to hide from him, not anymore.

My past, everything I’d done, had led me back to his arms. But I didn’t want to explore my past right then though. In that moment, all I needed was to experience everything I’d dreamed about for so long.

Not wanting the admission to break the moment, I ran my hands along his back and touched my lips to his. Our tongues met with renewed vigor, and his hands explored the curves of my shoulders before brushing down my spine.

I threw my head back as he adjusted his hips, forcing a spike of pure pleasure to shoot through my body. He seized the opportunity and attacked my throat with warm lips and a wet tongue. With one hand on the base of my spine and the other in my hair, he held me firmly against him as he moved beneath me. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed against the sensitive skin along my thighs providing a friction that I so desperately needed. A low growl built in his chest as my breath released in a staggered sigh.

The tiny noise spurred Clay on, and his lips explored my skin while his hips continued to rock against me. A stream of profanities and needful grunts, interspersed with my name, spilled from his lips whenever they lifted from my skin.

I burned with need for him to touch, to taste, to hold.

Each time his mouth caressed my skin, I cried out with desire. None of his kisses satisfied my need though. They were too concentrated and too innocent compared to what I craved. I wanted to fall into him and have him touch everywhere on my body all at once.

My temperature rose rapidly, until the air around us crackled with impending flames.

I worried the heat would turn Clay off, that he’d push me away and I’d be left desperate and wanting. Instead, the added warmth seemed to spur his need onward and he pawed at my back as if he desired to caress every part of me as desperately as I needed him to touch me.

There was something I needed to tell him first. I rested my hands on his shoulders, and gently pushed him away from me. His brow was creased with confusion, but I brushed it away with a gentle swipe of my fingertips.

“What is it?” he asked through his desperate pants.

“I love you,” I whispered as I trailed my palm along his cheek. “So much.”

His breath hitched and then he renewed his perfect attack, lavishing attention on my collarbone. “Fuck, Evie, you have to know I love you too,” he uttered between kisses.

Clay’s hands moved from my back to clutch the silk that pooled around our bodies. In one swift motion, he lifted the dress along my chest and off over my head.