where the thorns grow

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE,

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | WHERE THE THORNS GROW

  SHE NEEDED TO strike fast and she needed to strike now.

  Diego Contreras had been carried away a little while ago. Drunk. He had drunk it. That was good, that was very very good. Rowan had accompanied him off. That was slightly less good–she did not want to risk the Falcon standing guard. She wasn't someone who was capable of assassinating a fucking wiccai. The commotion would alarm too many people.

  She just had to wait until the party was over, wait until she could sneak out without anyone noticing. Dom had attached himself to her shortly after her encounter with Diego, and now they quietly observed from a distance as always. They weren't really a part of this world. They'd never belonged here at all.

  Dom hadn't said much tonight, choosing to keep uncharacteristically quiet. It almost unnerved her, except he was probably just trying to be serious and careful and all that stuff, since this was a high-stakes mission and messing up would be disastrous.

  She said, "You're being unnaturally attentive."

  Shortly he replied, "Can you blame me?" Rhys raised a brow. That was not his usual tone. That was not his usual tone at all. He seemed annoyed about something.

  She asked, suddenly feeling as if their roles had swapped, "Is something wrong?"

  He tilted his head. "What do you think?"

  She commented, tilting her head, "You're being uncharacteristically cryptic. That rarely happens. Well,  it does, but usually you give up within twenty seconds and just tell me what's going on."

  "Oh wow."

  Rhys turned her head away. Right. She wasn't going to bother with that when he was in this kind of mood. God knew what on earth had happened for him to be in a state like this. Either way she needed to get out of here soon, preferably without Dom's protests or him following her back. Both of which were somewhat likely–he could be as protective as a bloody mother hen.

  Something that would perfectly excuse her urgency to leave, but also not cause Dom to run after her.

  She could lie that she felt her period started. It was fairly possible, and it wasn't as if Dom of all people would question that anyways.

  She just needed to wait until it was time now, which shouldn't take too long. Patience, patience, patience. It seemed everything just went back to that one word that Rhys rolled around her mind like a mint in her mouth again and again and again until it was imprinted in her brain.

  It was irritating. Really irritating, the way how everything boiled down to waiting in the end.

  The hours felt like they were only getting longer. Almost an hour and a half after Diego had made his rather unsavoury exit, Rhys suddenly snapped to attention and turned to Dom. "Shit. I think I need to go back. Now."

  His eyes flickered to hers, the alarm in them clear. "What? What happened?"

  "Oh, you won't get it."

  His brow raised. "Try me."

  "You're not female, Dom, you will not get it. Blood, Dom, I can feel the–"

  He raised a hand, cutting her off in her sentence. "Okay. Fine. I get it. Are you going to come back?"

  Rhys pretended to glance at her watch, even though she'd been keeping careful track of the time since hours ago. "No," she murmured slowly, "don't think so. It's getting late. No point in coming back just to leave in like, less than an hour." To be truthful, the revel probably wouldn't end for another three. But the original plan was for it to end in less than an hour, so Rhys decided to stick with that.