I start to argue that I absolutely didnotkiss him back, when he laughs so hard I realize I played right into his trap.
“Is Natasha your real name?” He peers down at me from behind his mask.
“Isn’t Killian yours?”
“It is now,” he says. “A lot of us make them up. New life, new identity. That sort of thing.”
“I knew Elodie Blue was a fake,” I mutter under my breath, but Killian heard me.
“Elodie, huh?” He peers into the distance, whistles softly to himself. But not a sexy whistle, more like ahere-comes-troublekinda sound. And I make a note to get to the bottom of that, but later, not now. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name, or even wanted to.” Shaking free of the memory, he says, “Do you remember where you left it? The doorway, I mean. Because without the aid of the mask—”
I roll my eyes, annoyed that he’s treating me like some kind of amateur. I mean, maybe I am, but I’m not the one who’s been stuck here for God knows how long.
The second we’re out of the palace, I break into a run. But Killian’s legs are much longer, so for him it’s more like a jog.
“Up ahead,” I gasp, pushing my own legs to pump harder. When we clear a thick grove of hedges cut and manicured into perfectly submissive triangles, I catch sight of the statue marking the location of the portal and double my efforts, taking nothing for granted.
“Deceit?”Killian chases the word with a laugh. Unlike me, he’s not at all short of breath. “And let me guess—you think that’s a coincidence?”
He laughs even harder, and this time, it’s pretty clear it’s directed at me.