17
Rinaldo glared out the window.His head was pounding. It was that vicious, blood-pumping headache that he could feel in his temples when he put his fingers to them. He was brutally hung over. And now, he was brutally angry to boot.
“Don’t trust him. Don’t like this.”
“I know, Rin. I know. Neither do I.” Ally sighed. She cut up her cornetto with a knife and fork. “But we have to let her make decisions for herself. She isn’t our prisoner.”
“Isn’t she?” He sighed drearily and downed his second cup of coffee. He gestured to the waiter to get him a third. He was working on devouring a maritozzo. The giant, cream-filled puffy pastry was usually too much for him. But right now, he needed something—anything—in his stomach to combat the after-effects of the alcohol.
He knew he shouldn’t have had so much to drink the night prior on the plane. But he hadn’t cared. Guilt had demanded he drown it out with booze, and so, he had. He wasn’t sure he fully regretted his decision.
Ally frowned at him. “Hon. We have orders.”
“I know we do. I just have a hard time seeing people caught up in shit they shouldn’t be. You know that.” He shot her a look. It was a backhanded crack at how they had met. He hadn’t told Maggie the whole story. Ally got a little cranky when he elaborated on how he had saved her from being burned at the stake for witchcraft.
Couldn’t imagine why.
Ally shook her head as if to say she wasn’t going to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole, and then went back to eating her jelly stuffed pastry.
Like everything in life, their relationship was…complicated. They were partners.
He also loved her more than anything in the world. And the feeling was mutual. But the church forbade relationships for those who served, and the Order was no exception. Oh, sure—a few missteps and dalliances here and there could be excused and forgiven. But love? That was worthy of excommunication.
He had ranted for an hour at his commanding Bishop about the injustice. If it were just sex between them, it would be fine. The fact that she was a demon was fine. But love? No, no. Clearly, he had his priorities wrong. That must be the problem.
That was nearly the last day he served in the Order. But Ally refused to quit, and he would follow her anywhere she went. And he believed in his mission just as much now as he did the day he joined. He would protect the innocent from those who wished to do them harm. And that meant keeping a thumb on assholes like Gideon Raithe.
“I still think his fake name is stupid,” he grumbled under his breath.
Ally laughed. “How on Earth did you get to that conclusion from where we started?”
He shrugged. “There was a line.”
“I’m sure.” Her eyes glinted in affection and amusement as she cut off another piece of her pastry. She glanced out the window at the necromancer and the young woman with the orange-tipped hair. He did the same. “It looks as though she makes him uncomfortable,” Ally observed.
“A man who wants a woman he can’t have tends to look that way.” Shit. Now we have something in common.
With a tilt of her head, she let out a thoughtful hum. “Do you think so?”
“You’re terrible with these kinds of things. Yeah. He wants her in the worst way. I think he might even love her. See how red his neck is? He’s trying to play it cool. But his aura is all…” He gestured his hand in the air in front of him. “Reds.”
“I thought red was anger.”
“Not that kind of red.”
“Right.” She chuckled. “There are two kinds of red.”
“There are a thousand kinds of red.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I have you with me as my personal mood ring, so I don’t have to worry about learning the differences.” She laughed. There was a wistful smile on her face as she watched the two figures outside. “He loves her?”
“I think he might.”
“Do you think she knows?”
“I think she suspects. I don’t know if she wants to think about it, though.” He groaned as the pain in his head grew momentarily worse.
“I told you to stop.”