Like Ceris usually did, Micah popped us to random places before stopping in a narrow alley. Immediately, I stepped away from him, lowering my hand from his. “Where are we?”

I spied around the corner. We were on a quiet and dark street, flanked by commercial buildings with too many metal bars on the windows and doors. Lamps were broken, sidewalks were littered, and the few people walking around looked drunk or starving.

“A stop we need to make.” A black leather jacket appeared in his hand. He quickly wrapped it around me. “Put that on and stay close.”

Micah stepped out of the alley. He turned to the building on our left. A broken wooden sign hung above the secured door. Al’s Pub.

“A pub?” I asked, but he didn’t acknowledge me. I shoved my arms through the sleeves of the leather jacket.

Micah knocked on the closed door. A large guy with a long beard opened the inside door, keeping the metal bars between us.

“Can I help you?” the guy asked.

“We would like a drink,” Micah said. The guy looked over us. He didn’t seem too amused by Micah, but his eyes hovered over me from my head to toe. I stifled a shudder. With a big frown, Micah pulled a few bills from his pocket and passed it on to the guy. “To help you decide.”

The guy took the cash and pocketed it, then unlocked the metal bar door. “Come in.” He stepped aside.

Micah closed his hand around my lower arm and guided me in front of him. He pushed me inside the pub—a tiny, rustic thing with a dozen or so customers sitting at the low, wooden tables, and another four or five drinking at the bar—and to a table in a corner.

He pulled out a chair for me. I thought about being stubborn and taking another, but I didn’t want to appear childish, so I sat down. He took the chair across from me, his eyes on the front door.

“Are you going to tell me what we are doing here, or am I supposed to be a good worshiper and just be quiet?”

He looked at me. “I need to meet someone before we look for the spear.”

“We’re wasting time.”

“Hopefully not much.”

“Then let’s not waste any time and let’s go.” The sooner we found the spear, the sooner I would be rid of him.

“Do you think it’s easy to disappear from Imha for four days?”

I frowned. “What does that have to do with my quest?”

“The person we’re meeting will help me with that.”

Oh.

A fake blond waitress with too much cleavage and not much underneath it to show leaned over the table, batting her lashes at Micah. “Hi, handsome. What can I get you?”

He stared right into her eyes as if gazing into her cleavage wasn’t even an option. “A soda for the lady, and a beer for me.”

She snapped her head, looking at me, and her eyes widened. What? She hadn’t seen me here? Guess with a guy like Micah around it was hard to notice anything else.

She humphed then sashayed back to the bar.

I crossed my arms and looked everywhere but at him. I didn’t know what to say or how to act. I was still mad at him for all he had done, for all he had let me believe he had done.

The waitress came back. She threw the soda my way—and almost dumped it all over me—then leaned closer to Micah. “Here you go, handsome.” She handed him his beer.

Without looking at her, Micah took the beer. “Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“No, we are good.”

Reluctantly, the waitress walked away.

The silence and the tension were killing me. I might be mad at him, but I was also curious.

“So, having too much fun with Imha?”

He frowned. “Having too much fun with Ceris?”

Touché.

“You know, Ceris can behave. Sometimes.” I doubted we would ever go back to being Cheryl and me, but I believed I could handle her until the war was over.

“I wish I could say the same of Imha,” he muttered.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

He looked at me, head tilted. “Doing what?”

“Two things.” I lifted my index finger. “One, why are you working as a spy?”

He sighed. “Because things weren’t going so great when I was working with you and the others. I couldn’t prove my worth, and I was blamed for every little mess. Not saying I was innocent, but even if I was responsible for them, it wasn’t my intention. Even Levi started doubting my worth. And then we started suspecting we have an actual spy among us.” His eyes were too intense, too truthful. I averted my gaze. “I knew I could gain Imha’s trust again and having someone close to her is, in my opinion, the best way to defeat her.”

I wanted to ask more. I wanted to know if she was hitting on him. If to remain in character, he was conceding to her every wish. Or maybe he wanted to. Maybe he didn’t mind having her all over him.

I shuddered.

I lifted my middle finger. “Two, why are you helping me?”

“Someone has to.”

Ouch. I guess I saw that coming, but for some reason I hoped the answer would be different.

I leaned back in the chair and sipped my soda in silence.

Soon, Micah stiffened, his eyes on the front door.

A man entered the pub, and after looking around, he marched to our table. He sat on the chair by my side.

“Have you figured out what to do?” Micah asked.

“Yes, but I’ll need your blood,” the guy answered.

Promptly, Micah dropped his arm on the table and rolled his sleeve up. He fished a dagger from his waist and—

“Whoa,” I said.

—slashed a thin cut on his lower arm. The guy took a small flask from his pocket and held it beside the cut. Micah squeezed the cut, guiding the blood inside the vial.

“What else?”

“I can get the rest.” The man closed the vial and returned it to his pocket.

Micah grabbed a napkin and wiped the cut on his arm. “And Aruhi?”

“I’ll need his blood too.”

He rolled his sleeves back down. “Can you get to him?”

“Maybe, if I can keep Imha distracted.”

“Do whatever you have to do,” Micah said. Nodding, the man stood. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, my lord.” The man lowered his head in a tiny bow, and then left the pub in a hurry.

I waited until he was gone and the doors closed behind him before turning to Micah. “What the hell was that?”

Micah sighed. “That’s the other spy we have working inside Imha’s army, the former scout, but he doesn’t have the access I have. Anyway, he’ll create an illusion of me destroying another empty town and torturing the townspeople so Imha thinks I’m busy.”

How many of these people could play with illusions? “And Aruhi?”

“He will create another illusion for Aruhi so he appears beaten and weak. Hopefully, Imha will be too busy with other things and forget about Aruhi.”

Wow, I was impressed. He really thought of everything for this.

In a long swallow, Micah finished his beer and slapped the empty glass on the table. “So, are you ready to go?”

I took two more sips of my soda and nodded.

Side by side, we walked back to the alley. I extended my hand to him before he could ask for it. I swear one corner of his lips curled up as he caught my hand in his and teleported us out of there.

After a few more stops, he let go of my hand.

I looked around. A dense forest. Tall trees, yellowish grass. The smell of recent rain.

“I know this place,” I said.

Without a word, Micah walked through the trees and I followed him. Soon, the trees gave way to a clearing, and in the center of the clearing stood the Fates’ cottage. Rok appeared among the trees and flew around the little house. How was it that he could simply appear wherever he wanted? I mean, he didn’t just fly from New York to … wherever the Fates’ cottage was.

“What are we doing here? I thought we were going to find the spear.”

“We will, but it’s late and I’m tired. I’m guessing that finding the spear won’t be quick or easy, so I would rather stop now. We need to rest before proceeding. Only the Everlast Energy knows how long it’ll take us to find the spear.”

“And the Fates’ place is the best you could come up with?”

“Not really, but they aren’t here, and they don’t mind us using it to hide from Imha and Omi.”

God, I hoped they didn’t find us here.

We walked in the cottage. I had never been here, not physically. Only in my visions.

Micah pointed to a door on the other side of the small living room. “The bedrooms and bathroom are through there.” Then he pointed to a door on our left. “And there’s the kitchen, in case you’re hungry.”

I walked to the farthest door and looked inside. A short hallway, three small bedrooms, and a bathroom—too similar to the cottage on the Croatian island.

“Is there a specific room I should take?”

He shook his head. “Any room.”

“All right.” I reached up and twirled a strand of my hair in my finger. This time, I was certain one corner of his lips curled up. By a millimeter, but it did. “Good night.”

“Good night, Nadine.”

I walked into one of the bedrooms and closed the door behind me.

* * *

The same nightmare that woke me up almost every night visited me. The girl and me, and then flames consuming my family. It wasn’t even five in the morning when I sat up in bed, breathing hard.

At first, I didn’t recognize where I was and panic made its way through my chest. Then everything came rushing through my mind and I remembered. I was at the Fates’ cottage. In the middle of nowhere. Alone with Micah.

I stared at the closed door. He was sleeping in one of the other rooms, just outside this door. Probably wearing only sweatpants or something similar. With his ripped chest bare. I shook my head, ashamed for still having too many strong feelings for him. After all he had done, all he had put me through, I still couldn’t not like him. It was stupid.

Muttering curses to myself, I put on the rest of my gear—I hadn’t taken it all off last night, and since I had packed light and hadn’t brought pajamas, I had slept in my uniform pants and a thermal tee.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail, finished packing the little stuff I brought, slung the strap of my backpack on my shoulders, and walked out of the room. Just as Micah was walking out of his, his hair disheveled and his chest bare. I froze at the door, staring at him and his perfection with only black sweatpants—just like I had imagined. Actually, my imagination could only go so far. The real thing was even more ripped than the guy in my dreams.

God, it wasn’t fair. It really, really wasn’t fair to my poor heart.

He had a new, intricate tattoo. It was a black, thick web originating from his heart and reaching to his shoulder and stomach. It covered some of his old tattoos and didn’t really make sense to me, but I refused to ask him about it. Or why the hell he got a new tattoo when we were at war.

“Morning, darling,” he said, already sounding way too chirpy for five in the morning.

I grunted and walked past him, going to the kitchen. I got busy making a quick breakfast and packing a lunch and some snacks—who knew when we would find food again? Right, Micah could teleport any time he wanted, but what if we got into a situation where he couldn’t? Anyway, I wasn’t taking any chances.

A few minutes later, Micah joined me in the kitchen. He had a fresh face as if he had showered. As usual, he wore all black. I wondered why he wasn’t wearing his gear, like me, but I decided not to ask. The less I talked to him the better.

“Were you planning on waking up at five in the morning, or did I wake you up?” I asked, not doing too well on my promise to stay quiet.

“Actually, I heard you screaming earlier.”

I gaped at him. “I was screaming again?”

He nodded. “And that pain? No sign of it?”

“No,” I said. “Sorry about waking you up with my screams.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay.” He took two large steps and stood beside me, looking around the table, where all the food was already packed. “I could have helped with this.”

“It’s fine.”

We reached for the same pack of snacks, and I withdrew my hand. He grabbed it before I could pull away.

“Darling, I—”

“Do not call me that,” I said through gritted teeth. I stepped back, taking my hand with me.

“But I want to—”

“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear.” I took another step back. “Please, don’t make this worse than it already is. Let’s … just get this over with.”

I zipped my backpack and walked out of the kitchen, and out of the cottage. Outside, I leaned against the wall, my heart beating fast and my hand—the one he had touched—cradled against my chest. A zing had run through me when his skin had met mine. God, I hated this. I hated how it was agonizing to be around him. To be right beside him.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowed my heart rate. When Micah walked out of the cottage a few minutes later, I was ready to go on this damn quest.

Until he extended his hand to me. “I can teleport us there.” I stared at his hand. “Unless you prefer doing it the hard way. Stolen cars, broken trains, maybe a ship or two, and lots of walking. And even so, we won’t get there in the next three months.”

Damn, he was right. Suppressing a groan, I rested my hand in his, ignoring the way his big, warm hand enveloped mine like they were pieces of the same puzzle.

“Here we go,” he said.

Three seconds later, we were in the middle of nowhere, with hills all around us. Rok flew ahead, disappearing on the dark horizon.

“Where are we?”

“Just outside Rome,” he said, looking around. There was a broken road about one hundred yards from us and it stretched out until it disappeared among the hills. “I tried teleporting to the outside of the Coliseum, but I can’t. There’s a barrier around the city.”

“That’s not good.”

He shook his head, watching the road. “No, it’s not. But we’ve got no option. If we follow this road, we should arrive in Rome.” He started walking toward the road. “Come on.”

I rushed to follow him. With his big steps, he walked much faster than I did.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, I asked, “Didn’t Imha destroy Rome a few months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Then, isn’t the Coliseum destroyed too? I mean more destroyed than it already was before the attack.”

“I don’t know.” He glanced at me. “Let’s hope it isn’t.”

We walked for hours, until finally we saw the city opening up before us—all ruins. The roads and bridges broken, the buildings and houses crumbled to the ground.

As we stepped into the city, Micah took a sharp inhale.

“What is it?”

“We just crossed through a barrier.” His expression hardened. A knot formed on his forehead and his jaw tensed. “I can sense demons all around us.”

“Damn it,” I whispered.

“We better hide.” He grabbed my hand—again, I felt the zing—and pulled me to the debris of two fallen buildings. “We’ll need to be extra careful.”

We stayed in the darkness and I wondered why we weren’t moving—with caution, of course. I opened my mouth to ask him when I heard it. The heavy footfall of several demons.

Micah, still holding my hand, pulled me even deeper into the debris.

“What about my aura?” I asked in a low whisper. “I know they can’t sense it, but what if Imha or Omi are around?”

“I’m hiding our auras,” he said simply.

I didn’t see them, but I heard the demons growing closer and closer, and then getting farther and farther away.

“I don’t understand,” I said, once it seemed okay to talk again. “Why is there a barrier and demons in Rome?”

“Perhaps there’s something here that Imha is after.”

I gasped. “Do you think she knows about the ladies of Diana and the spear?”

“I don’t think so. Or, at least, I hope she doesn’t.” He finally let go of my hand and moved to the edge of the crumbling buildings. He looked out—side to side, up and down. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

And just like that, he marched ahead of me as if he couldn’t stand to be near me.