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.Not a bad place for a hideout.Or whatever Jenner real y used it for.The bathroom was the type with the counter and mirror inside.I did my business, then checked my appearance.More color had come back to mycheeks, but even tied up, my hair looked like a dead animal had been glued to my head.Definitely needed a good shampoo.Or a fast chop withsharp scissors.When I emerged, Wyatt was perched on the far corner of the bed, staring at the wal and seeming lost in thought.“This is probably a terrible idea,” I said.He snapped his head toward me, eyebrows arched.“Why?”“Lately, motels seem to herald my imminent demise.”For several seconds, he just stared dumbly.Then the joke sank in, and he cracked a smile.“That’s real y not funny, Evy.”“Then why are you trying hard to not laugh?”His smile widened, and amusement made his eyes sparkle.“I remember something more pleasant than imminent death from our last motel stay.”My stomach flipped.I remembered that night, too—slightly out of focus and fuzzy from the distance of death and time.Our only time togetherbefore my death.The way he’d held me.The brush of his mouth on my skin.I had craved sensation that night—one last electrifying moment before itwas al ripped away, as though I’d known I was about to experience the worst agony of my life and would have to see Wyatt break as I lay dying.A moment in time I both treasured and regretted.“Evy, I’m sorry.”I blinked.“For what?”“For whatever I said that made you look so sad.”“Wyatt, don’t.” I sat next to him, letting the squishy mattress sink under my weight.I was weary of the constant battle between my emotions and mymemories.Between the things I wanted and the things lodged firmly in my subconscious that kept me from them.I was sick to death of fighting withmyself.“I shouldn’t have joked about that night,” he said.“I think you’ve earned the right to be honest with me.”He turned his hand palm up.I threaded my fingers around his and held tight.“And I think you have, too,” he said.“This isn’t me being honest?”Shifting to face me more directly, he reached for my other hand and I let him take it.“Evy, I think if you were being truly honest right now, you’d bebeating me into a bloody pulp.Or screaming obscenities out of sheer frustration.Maybe both.”I searched his face for hints of teasing.A glimmer of self-deprecation that belied the honesty I sensed in his words.I found none.Why the hel did Ithink I could run around and prevent a citywide Dreg meltdown when I couldn’t even sort out my own feelings? Or my relationship with my … what? Icouldn’t even put a label on what Wyatt was to me.More than a boyfriend, less than a lover.A best friend I’d die for in a second, and someone I’drather punch in the face than be gut-wrenchingly honest with.The confusing dichotomy had me tied in knots.Four years of professional give-and-take between Hunter and Handler had been complicated by one moment of weakness on my old self’s part—the culmination of immediate grief impacted by two months of behavioral changes and undefined tension between us.Add to it the physicalattraction to Wyatt from a woman who’d been so lonely and depressed that she’d given up and kil ed herself rather than deal with life.Season it alwith the fact that every wound I’d ever inflicted on a Dreg—deserving or not—had been paid back in spades by a goblin Queen and her hornyhenchman.Then rol it al up in my own bruised, orphaned psyche, and I was a psychiatrist’s wet dream.“I don’t blame you” was poised on the tip of my tongue.But if I was being honest, I did blame him.Not for anything that had led up to my death butfor everything that had happened since.For waking up alone and frozen on a morgue table, for dragging Alex Forrester into my life and getting himkil ed, for the battle at Olsmil that left six Hunters dead.And especial y for the goddamned quiver I felt in my bel y when he smiled at me; the way justholding his hand calmed me down, and the constant, warm memory of his kisses.Al things I wanted to feel over and over again.I’d been running around in a constant state of agitation ever since my resurrection, solving one problem after another.The closest Wyatt and I hadcome to figuring us out was four days ago in First Break.Surrounded by the peace and serenity of the Fair Ones and sure of our protection fromeverything hunting us, we’d final y been honest with each other.Or as honest as we’d been able when I was stil only borrowing Chalice and I wasconvinced one or both of us would be dead in a day.But now? We’d both survived that battle, only to be thrust headlong into a new fight—one that had been boiling beneath the surface for longerthan we’d anticipated, with no downtime to think about us.Waiting for Phin’s phone cal , we had time.And now that I had it, I wanted to do anythingexcept think about us.Or me.Al I wanted to think about was the next mission.It was a hel of a lot easier to handle.“I don’t want to beat you up, Wyatt,” I said, forcing a smile.“You’re less useful when you’re bleeding and unconscious.”His eyes narrowed.“Wil you be serious, please?”“I am being serious!” I launched off the bed and stalked to the other side of the room, rounding to face him when I reached the door.“Gettingpissed at you doesn’t help.Hel , getting pissed at me doesn’t even help, and quite frankly? The only fucking person I want to be pissed at right nowis this Cal asshole, because he’s the one creating al our problems.”“Cal isn’t the one affecting us, Evy.”“Oh no? Without the Park Place tangent he led me on, I probably would have found the information I needed in time to save Rufus from theAssembly, and maybe even have had time for a daylong nap that didn’t come as a result of two broken legs and chemical inhalation.”“Are you being intentional y dense?”“Excuse me?” I took three steps toward him, hands bal ed by my sides, fuming.He stood up, shoulders back, fists loose, anticipating an assaultand making no move to protect himself from it
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