Steadfast(17)

“Uh-oh,” Gage said. “Girlfriend drama?”

Now Verlaine had just sent him video of—whoa. “You could say that.”

“I should never have tried a brand-new spell in an emergency.” Nadia leaned against the side of the building, her face still streaked from her earlier tears. They stood in the alleyway behind La Catrina, in the harsh circle of light from a nearby streetlamp; everything else around them was dark.

There were shapes and shadows around them only Mateo could see—like faces made of darkness, staring all the while—but he was learning to put those aside when he could. Right now Nadia needed him. “You were trying to help Mrs. Prasad. You did your best. You couldn’t have known that was going to happen.”

“I could’ve known if I had enough practice.” She pushed her thick, black hair back from her face, like a little girl awakened from a nightmare. “Instead the exact same demon I was trying to expose? He had to fix everything.”

“You said he just . . . gave you an extra minute. You’re the one who saved the day.”

“If Asa hadn’t done it, Mrs. Prasad probably would have killed somebody, and it would have been my fault.”

Mateo took her by the shoulders. “No. Nadia, come on. Snap out of this. You and I both know who’s really responsible. Elizabeth is the one who killed Jeremy. She’s the one who put a demon in his place. This is her fault. Only her fault. So stop beating yourself up about it, okay?”

Nadia shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, it is.” He folded her close against his shoulder. His fingers were woven through the thick silk of her hair, cradling the back of her head. He tried to imagine all the thoughts within her brain, the countless strands of hope and grief and love and fear interwoven there, so infinitely more complex than he could ever begin to understand. And yet there was nothing he wanted more than this—to know her. His lips against her temple, Mateo murmured, “You try to take care of everyone, all the time. Then you get mad at yourself when it’s impossible.”

“Someone has to stop Elizabeth, and there’s no one else.”

“Which is why you need to relax sometimes. Let us take care of you for a change.” He kissed her forehead, then her cheek. “Tonight—okay, you made a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes. Yeah, there was a big scene, but it sounds like it’s going to blow over.”

Nadia’s dark eyes gazed up into his, still so hesitant, so doubtful, that his heart ached to see it. Why did she keep taking the weight of the world onto herself, until she nearly broke under it?

“It’s not just that,” she whispered. “Every time I run into something else I don’t know, it reminds me that I lost my teacher.”

She said no more; she didn’t have to. He knew her only teacher in witchcraft was her mother. When they’d first met, Mateo had thought Nadia was coping reasonably well with her mother’s abandonment of the family. He’d slowly learned that wasn’t true. In some ways she had only just begun dealing with it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It sucks. I’d change it for you if I could.”

“I know.” She wound her arms more tightly around his waist, and then brought their mouths together in a kiss. Mateo opened his lips, kissed her deeper, breathed in the scent of her skin.

They’d had so little time. That first night, after the fire, they’d gone back to her house—

Her mouth under his, her body next to his. Their skin smelled like woodsmoke and blood. Mateo wrapped in her embrace, feeling her body shake with emotion and exhaustion. “I love you,” said and heard, over and over until their voices mingled together. Curled together in her bed, still clothed and too tired for more, but somehow complete. Knowing they’d be together, completely, before long—

But that certainty had been an illusion.

Since then, they’d had to take care of Verlaine, deal with Elizabeth, confront the new demon in their midst . . . it felt like the whole world was trying to tear Nadia away from him almost as soon as he’d found her.

But there was no way he was going to let that happen.

Mateo slipped his hands beneath the hem of her sweater to grasp her right at the waist, his fingers against warm, bare skin. Nadia made this little gasp against his throat that did something to his pulse, made him go warm all over. He leaned into her more, the two of them fusing together in their embrace.

When they broke apart, Mateo was breathing hard, but he had to smile. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Nadia laughed, a little self-conscious—but he saw that flush in her cheeks. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“Maybe as much as I love you. But maybe not. Because I’m not sure that’s even possible.”

The back door opened; Mateo and Nadia broke apart, at least enough to be decent. It was Dad, who said nothing but gave them both a look. “I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you just got an eight-top.”

“Eight?” Large parties were the worst. Besides—“It’s almost nine o’clock! We close in half an hour.”

“They’re here, and they’re hungry, and unfortunately for young love, I let the other server leave early tonight.” His dad pointed a finger at him. “Could’ve been you if you’d asked first.”