IN UNISON
The canteen was busy for lunch as I entered the next day. Hunter had kissed me goodbye, thoroughly and extensively, in the carriage outside, before leaving for a mission for the next day or so to track the suspects. I was in the care of the company for the night. One member in particular, I hoped.
I paused in the doorway, studying every familiar face in the room. Every actor and stagehand, monster and human. Was one of these faces, people I trusted with my body at its most vulnerable, the killer? Someone who knew Beth's laughter and Margaret's shy smile?
My gaze drifted over the table to where Isabel and Hugh were still snuggled together—a few stray glances from nearby monsters studying the pair with open jealousy—and then over to the corner, where an unexpected duo was bent over their plates, not speaking.
Nireas rose from the table, arms shifting, head ducking as he spoke to Ronan across from him. The imp looked up from his food to nod, expression uncommonly somber, and then his gaze caught mine, eyes widening with brief surprise. Nireas slowed as he approached me.
"I've been avoiding you," I said when he was near enough for me to speak softly.
"I could tell." He didn't sound offended, but I wasn't sure I still remembered how to read this man.
"I'm sorry. It's… You…"
"I waited too long."
I stared at him and wet my lips. "I don't know. But…would you wait a little longer? Not much. Just give me a little more time."
Nireas's lips pressed flat but he nodded, slow and deliberate.
"Thank you," I said, reaching out and squeezing his arm, not pulling away as he slid his arm through my touch, allowing me to feel the flex of dense muscle, before he grasped my hand tightly. But he let me go as I stepped forward, and he was gone from the room when I glanced over my shoulder as I walked up to a watchful Ronan. "Are you two friends now?"
Ronan's spoon stirred aimlessly through the stew and rice on his plate. "We have…things in common. You arrived late."
I hesitated, glancing at the bench across from Ronan before rounding the table and squeezing in at his side, his arm curling around my back automatically. "I did. But I'm staying the night."
His spoon stopped in his bowl "With me?" Ronan whispered.
I arched an eyebrow at him. "Unless you've found another bed partner."
I'd been teasing, but Ronan grunted as though I'd just punched him in the gut. "Hazel."
"Sorry. Sorry, that was careless," I whispered, turning my back to the rest of the room, offering Ronan a shy smile as his wing lifted to shield us. "Hunter smelled you on me that night."
"He was angry?" Ronan asked, and to his credit, he didn't look pleased.
I shook my head. "He didn't mind."
Hunter also hadn't minded the smell of Constantine in the least, from what I could tell, although he hadn't remarked on it with more than a sniff and a wicked smile.
"Then he's an idiot."
I glanced down at the table, at Ronan's fist wrapped around the spoon. He loosened his grip as I reached for his hand and let me steal a large bite of food. It was cool, proof he'd been mulling over his dinner more than eating it, but it still tasted good. Johnny was a better cook than a stagehand.
Ronan was jealous, possibly even possessive. The truth was that just because Hunter had offered me freedom, it didn't mean Ronan would be equally eager to share me. Maybe now, because he had to, but…for how long?
"I really care about him, Ro," I said slowly.
"I know you do," he said, frowning.
"As much as I care about you," I continued, trying to keep breathing even as my lungs tightened and my eyes stung.
Ronan's arm tightened around me, his voice lowering, ragged at the edges. "He can take care of you, nut. I hate it, but I understand it. Just don't tell me we're done already."
"It's not—I'm not with Hunter this week because of money, Ro!" I said, indignation helping distract from the worry.
"I like him too, as it turns out, as much as I hate him. But it makes sense, and it's not as though I want you trapped here just because we don't have anywhere else to go together," Ronan rushed out.
"No. No, no, you're not—you're not getting it," I said, fighting to keep my own voice from rising. The tears were gone now, at least. "Ronan, I'm asking if…if it's unfair or cruel of me to…to want you both. To keep you both."
Ronan's eyes were a vivid amber, as bright as coals. His hair was mussed, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
"Both," he repeated.
I swallowed hard and nodded, my heel jiggling against the floor as I waited for his answer. This was somehow more stressful than fighting against an attacker with a garrote around my throat.
"But, Hazel. I…" He frowned and blinked as he looked around us. "Does that mean you'll be stuck here at the theater?"
"No, not stuck," I decided. "But I'm not sure I even want to leave the theater right now."
"It's not safe here," Ronan hissed.
"Well, then you'll have to keep an eye on me," I huffed.
Ronan's lips opened and parted a few times before shutting again, seemingly stumped for anything to say. But when I reached for his hands, he grabbed onto me with a fierce and determined grip.
"My only hesitation with Hunter this whole time has been the idea of…losing you," I said softly. "Except he's not asking me to walk away from you or the theater or anything that makes me happy, which includes him. I don't know how it will work yet, but I just want to know if you would….would want it to work too."
Ronan's eyes widened. "Nut, are you mad? Of course I would!"
My breath gusted out of me, and I threw myself forward, Ronan quickly releasing my hands so we could wrap our arms around one another.
"I've been in love with you ever since you asked me how flexible my tail was," he muttered in my ear before kissing the lobe.
I laughed, and it was teary, so I tucked my face into his shoulder.
"Or at least since you asked me if I wanted you to help me oil my wings," he said, squeezing me tighter. "And I know you'll probably hate to hear it, but if you've made your mind up to keep me around, I'm afraid you'll have to grow used to the words. I love you, Hazelnut."
I clutched hard at his back, smothered my face in his skin so I could fill my mouth and lungs with him. Like toast, as Hunter had said. I'd heard those words very little in my life, and there was a part of me screaming to run at the sound of them. But it wasn't my mother's blood at all, I realized. It was the knowledge that the love I'd known before the theater had latched around me like a cage, had been built out of fear and anger.
I hadn't run from my father, and I wasn't sure if that was for good or ill. But I didn't need to run from Ronan or from Hunter, or even from how they made me feel.
"I don't mind it, actually," I murmured, lifting my face just slightly, tucking my nose against his jaw.
"No?"