Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(59)

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.