I arched an eyebrow. "Oh, and should I be jealous of Jude or Con and Antin?"
Ronan stepped forward until I was pressed firmly between my giant and my imp, his words purring softly to me. "Oh, Hazelnut, I wish you would."
I snorted, turning my cheek to him as he leaned in for a kiss. Nireas pushed my hair aside, nipping at my throat, and I made a soft and insincere sound of protest, trying to calm my own arousal as we stood on the stage in our little cluster, the rest of the company milling around us.
My giddy mood quickly burst as Christine returned to the stage in a running panic, breath panting and face pale.
"I tried to stop her, but she took off. She ran out alone!"
Damnit, Isabella, I thought and then shook myself. I'd done the same when my scene with Nireas had unsettled me, and Isabella's discomfort had been made much more public than mine.
"We have to go after her," Goliath said, which was sweet, considering the way Isabella had treated him.
"We do," Mr. Reddy said, a weary huff passing out his lips. "Nireas, you stay here with the girls. I'll check the alley, see if our guards are on her trail."
"Eston went to follow her," Christine said in a small voice.
"Eston?" Ronan echoed, frowning. "Eston doesn't give a shit about Isabella."
Christine gaped back at him. "Maybe he just…wanted to help? I—I don't know—" Her bottom lip trembled and I sighed, pushing Nireas and Ronan back just as Christine burst into tears.
The stage was chaos, everyone running in opposite directions, shouting the news to others. And in the middle of it all, Hugh sat on that half-painted, chintzy gold throne made of cobbled parts, staring into empty air with slack terror.
"The gargoyle's not at his post," Johnny murmured to Mr. Reddy at my left. "He must've followed them right away."
"Good, then she's not alone, no matter what," Reddy answered. "Give a task to the unknowns, keep them here, we don't need any more unaccounted for."
Unknowns? I wondered as I crossed the stage. Oh. The monsters who we couldn't be certain of yet. The ones without alibis, without alliance.
I knelt in front of Hugh, and his eyes landed on mine, still unseeing. "We're prepared. She'll be fine."
"I should've pulled her aside. She's just been wanting attention," Hugh murmured. "Affection. Someone to care more about her than themselves."
"Come on, help us organize—" Before I could finish the sentence, the doors to the theater banged open.
"Now what?" Reddy growled.
"Hazel!" Ronan barked.
I was already standing again, turning to face the shadow at the back of the seats. The breeze traveling to stage was sweet and caramelized but tinged with a dangerous metallic edge, familiar and incomplete and brutal all at once. The shadow moving closer was the same, a lone figure, curling horns drooping low, the body hunched.
"Constantine," I breathed, darting forward just as the figure reached the light spilling over from the stage.
It wasn't Constantine. Not all of him.
Antin stumbled forward alone, ruby skin glistening, breath labored and ragged, and it took me a moment to realize he wasn't sweating but bleeding, his blood a perfect match for his flesh.
"Antin!" I shouted, running for the stairs to meet him. "What's happened, where's Con?"
"Someone get that bastard—"
"Shut it. He's hurt and he's ours," Ronan snarled back to whoever had started to complain.
Antin fell to his knees just as I reached him, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to my chest without thinking, pressing my face to his head between his horns. I moaned and shivered, but the pleasure racing through me was pale in comparison to what he usually offered. He was hurt, weakened, or maybe he was too far away from—
"Where's Con?" I whispered, ignoring the gentle tingling waves of sweetness rolling through my muscles, stroking my hands over the demon's bare back.
"They forced me here. I tried to fight it, but—"
"Hush," I said, finding his face with my hands, lifting it up and leaning down to press a kiss to the center of his long brow. His skin made my lips throb. "Who forced you here?"
"Birsha and—" Antin's mouth opened, his jaw worked, but no sound came out and his whole body trembled against me.
"The warlock," I said, and Antin released a heavy breath, sagging into me.
"They have Con, they're trying to cut us apart. But they sent me here as bait, Hazel, you can't—"
"I can and I will. I've told you. I'll fight for you. They sent you here because they knew I would come after them, chase down Con. And they'll get what they ask for and more," I said, glancing over my shoulder and searching for Nireas and Ronan. They were right behind me, Nireas's jaw clenching and Ronan's shoulders straightening. Not arguing with me, thank god.
The theater was growing quiet around us and Antin's head tilted back, almost as if he had the eyes to gaze up at me. "I can't feel him. It might already be over."
"It's not," I said, my voice hard even as my hand soothed over his cheek, fingertips bloodied. If Birsha and his horrible warlock had succeeded, then I'd lost two lovers in the process, or at the very least Constantine when he was whole. "It's not over. If they want me to come and save him, they won't have finished it yet," I said.