“Tomorrow.” He came around the table and put his hands on Lily’s wrists, guiding the plates back down to the table. His gaze was warm and his voice low. “I appreciate it, I really do. But it’s bedtime.”
Her eyes were level with Rowan’s willstone, resting high on his breastbone under his clothes. She thought about touching it and about the sharp, almost painful awareness of him that had followed. The memory made her shake. Her eyes flicked up to his and she froze. His fingers fanned out across the insides of her wrists, smoothing over the soft, sensitive skin there before he suddenly pulled away from her.
“You need sleep,” he said in a wavering voice.
He led her down the hallway, past the bathroom she had used, and into a large bedroom with a vaulted ceiling that was crowned with a faceted skylight. Stairs led up to a dais, where a wide bed dominated the otherwise uncluttered, almost empty room. Rowan led her up the steps, turned down the snowy-white comforter, and folded her between the crisp sheets.
“Sleep,” he repeated, tucking her in, and then he turned and left the room.
The lights dimmed and went out as Rowan walked past them. Seeing his large silhouette pausing in the doorway for a last-second check on her filled Lily with a sense of well-being. Sleep seized her like a fever, wrestling her under within seconds.
* * *
Gideon let himself into Rowan’s building and climbed the six flights of stairs. Rowan hadn’t changed the outside wards, but Gideon was certain he’d changed the ones on his apartment. He’d had Carrick check them.
Gideon knew he wasn’t supposed to do this. It had only been a few hours since the meeting with the Council members, and he still hadn’t managed to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth. They were so frightened of Rowan. So scared of any miscalculation around the Witch that they would let the discovery of the century slip through their fingers.
The Council simply didn’t have enough imagination to understand how important this other version of Lillian could be. She could change the balance of power in this world if Gideon could prove she existed.
Gideon knocked at Rowan’s door and waited, ignoring the impulse to call to him with mindspeak. Not that it would work anyway. He and Rowan were no longer stone kin. Rowan had smashed his stone when he’d left Lillian and had been using a new stone for the past year, one that Gideon wasn’t in tune with. Gideon touched the willstone at his throat, his skin crawling at the thought. He’d seen another mechanic suffering after his stone had been smashed, and Gideon could only imagine that it was like cutting off an arm or putting out an eye. After the guy had recovered, he’d bonded with another willstone, but it took weeks before he could do more than moan. Gideon had always known Rowan was strong, but to smash his own stone? That was something Gideon would never even consider.
He knocked again. He knew Rowan was home. He also knew that there was a girl with him. In all the years he’d known Rowan—and even during this past year when he hadn’t had any contact with him at all—Rowan had never taken any girl but Lillian home with him. True, Gideon’s spies had reported that Rowan was with a dark-haired Outland girl, but hair was easy enough to dye. Gideon knew she had to be this other Lillian that he needed. He felt it. And the Council would thank him for this later, even if he was going against their wishes.
The door opened. Rowan appeared to have just taken a bath. He wore only a pair of loose, drawstring linen pants, his hair wet, and there was a patch of stubble and shaving milk on his neck, still waiting for the razor. Gideon smiled, repressing the urge to hit the handsome bastard. He just kept getting better looking every damn year.
“Hi, Rowan,” he said smoothly. “Bit late for a shave, isn’t it?”
“Gideon,” Rowan replied, his expression stony. “What are you doing here?”
“May I come in?”
“What are you doing here?” Rowan repeated. He angled his shoulders to block the door.
“I’m trying to help you.” Gideon sighed heavily. “There’s a rumor going around.”
“A rumor,” Rowan prompted blankly.
“Something that might get back to Lillian, make her ask questions.” Gideon searched Rowan’s eyes for a flicker of fear, or the uncertainty of a lie, but he saw nothing. It was strange to look at Rowan and have no way into his mind. He hadn’t anticipated that, although he knew he should have. They’d never liked each other—in fact, Gideon knew that Rowan despised him—but being stone kin for so many years had forced them to be closer than brothers.
Up until a year ago, Lillian had not claimed either Gideon or Tristan, and they had been forced to work through Rowan’s mind for years in order to remain in her inner circle. Gideon had never become stone kin with Tristan, but in order to even pretend he was a true mechanic, which many people doubted, Gideon and Rowan had, and they’d spent hours in each other’s heads. Now all Gideon heard from Rowan was implacable silence. Gideon had never once considered that he wouldn’t be able to read Rowan, and at the moment, all Gideon saw was a very large, very lithe Outlander with a razor in his hand. They were strangers now, and Gideon suddenly doubted the wisdom of coming here at all. “A lot of people saw you around town tonight with a girl.”
“That was fast. You must have hired more spies.” Rowan put his hands on his hips. They were hard hands—hands that were used to hitting things—unlike Gideon’s. “Get to the point, Gideon.”
“Is she here?” Gideon looked over Rowan’s shoulder and saw two sets of dirty dishes on the table. “Apparently, she is. I’m surprised. It’s not like you to leave a mess.”
> “We had better things to do than dishes.”
Gideon raised an eyebrow at Rowan. If she wasn’t the other Lillian, Rowan wouldn’t work so hard to protect her from view. The fact that Rowan was fighting Gideon was a good sign. “May I meet her?” he asked casually.
* * *
Lily woke in Rowan’s big bed. There was a palpable tension in the air. She got up and wandered toward the sound of voices. She couldn’t make out distinct words just yet, but even so, Rowan’s tone didn’t sound right to her. She still wasn’t sure exactly how to initiate mindspeak, but she reached out to him anxiously, and he sensed it.
Don’t come out here, Lily. I don’t want Gideon to see you.
Lily peeked around the corner and saw Rowan standing at the door, talking to a young man with blond hair and a doughy, pallid face. Gideon. He had just asked Rowan if he could meet her.
“She’s sleeping, Gideon,” Rowan replied. His voice slid down to an insinuating drawl. “And she’s very tired.”