The Serpent's Curse by Lisa Maxwell (read an ebook week .TXT) 📕

tower nearing completion. When they were finally connected, their power would create an impermeable net across the entire country, collecting feral magic better than the Brink ever could and destroying any maggots who still managed to hide themselves away from the righteousness of the law.

A knock came at the door, and Hendricks ducked his head through the opening. “The car is here for you, Mr. President.”

“Good,” Jack said, still relishing the way the title sounded after all these years. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

When Hendricks was gone, Jack turned back one last time to examine the map. Perhaps it was time, finally, to bring his great creation to life. Darrigan could try to run, but he would never escape. Wherever Seshat was hiding, her power would finally, finally be his.

PART

IV

THE CHANGED CITY

1952—San Francisco

After they escaped from the hospital, Esta managed to find them a safe room at a decent hotel fairly quickly. It was easy enough to use her affinity to dodge behind the counter, lift a key, and adjust the paper ledgers to make it seem like they’d paid.

The next day, she searched the local paper for news of their escape from the hospital, but she found no mention of it. If the Brotherhoods knew that Esta and Harte were in the city, they hadn’t publicized that knowledge. That fact didn’t make Esta feel any better, though. The Society and the Syndicate had allowed the public to continue believing that the Thief was dead, even while they were searching for her at the Curtis Brothers’ Show. Still, as long as the entire city wasn’t searching for them, they had some time for Harte to recuperate. And he needed it.

For the next few weeks, they stuck close to the hotel as Harte grew stronger. As stir-crazy as she might have felt, Esta didn’t go out for much more than food or supplies. At first, she’d been afraid to leave Harte for more than a couple of minutes because he’d still been so weak, and then later because there was a part of her that worried he would disappear again if she looked away. But as the days passed, their routine grew more familiar, and the room became a kind of den, a safe nest away from the dangers that had been dogging them for so long. Even Seshat had remained quiet. The goddess seemed to understand that her fate was tied to Harte’s and that Harte needed to heal. In the peace of those long days, Esta found it too easy to imagine that the whole world was contained in that small room, and there were moments when she could almost forget what still lay ahead for them—and for her, especially.

Then, about three weeks later, everything changed.

She and Harte had been sitting together on the couch in an easy, companionable silence, when Esta woke from an unintended nap and discovered that it was later than she’d realized. Harte had dozed off too. She started to lift herself from the couch carefully, so as not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open.

“I should get going,” she told him. “We need dinner, and I—”

“Later,” he said softly, tracing his finger across the back of her hand.

It was barely anything, the lightest fluttering of skin, warm and sure, against hers. But it was the first time he’d made a move to touch her on purpose since they’d settled in the hotel, and the shock of his skin made Esta’s breath catch.

“Stay a while longer,” he said, his gray eyes calm as the morning fog.

“The deli on the corner will close soon,” she explained.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“You will be, and even if you aren’t, you’ll need to eat,” she told him. “I know you’re feeling better, but you have a ways to go. You’re still so thin.”

“I’m not sick anymore, Esta,” Harte murmured.

But Esta noticed the angles of his cheekbones and the way his collarbones jutted sharply beneath the soft cotton of his shirt, and she could only see how close she’d come to losing him.

“I’m okay,” he told her gently. “You don’t have to keep worrying about me.”

“Fine.” She tried to pull away, confused and embarrassed by the rush of emotions she felt, but he pinned her hand more firmly with his. He was right. She knew that. Harte didn’t need her to take care of him anymore, not like he had in those early days. “Let me go, Harte,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Not yet,” he said. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. He might have said he wasn’t hungry, but his eyes told a different story.

“Darrigan…,” she warned, but the catch in her voice betrayed her.

His face came closer, and Esta couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. In the days that had followed their escape, she’d barely thought about anything but making sure he stayed well, grew stronger. She’d cared for him like a nurse for a patient, never letting herself see him as a man—as himself. But now something essential seemed to have changed between them.

He paused, waiting for her consent, and she knew that if she let him come any closer, if she allowed him to press his lips against hers, there would be no turning back.

“We can’t stay here forever,” she told him, still not pulling away.

“But we can stay right now. We can for a little while longer,” he replied, his breath warm against her lips.

“Can we?” she asked, and she found she really didn’t know the answer. They had so much ahead of them to accomplish. And Esta had not forgotten what happened in Denver, the too-clear warnings time had issued.

In answer, Harte pressed his mouth against hers, soft and firm all at once, and every cell in her body seemed to sigh. It felt like she’d been swimming underwater, without air, for so long, and now she’d finally surfaced.

Esta could not stop herself from letting Harte pull