The Sleeper's Harp (The Arcane Artifacts, #1)

Chapter 25 - Pasta

"Then go for it, Elle. What if..." She fell silent for several beats. "What if you go your separate ways days, even weeks from now, and that's it, and you're left with regret? What if you do nothing and when the opportunity is gone, you regret not taking it. You don't want this to be something you look back on for the rest of your life and wonder, What if? You know?"

"You're right," I whispered.

We chatted for a few more minutes. She filled me in on her sister, and how she was doing post break-up. I warned her not to come home until I'd had a chance to fix the apartment and take care of the Luke situation, then we hung up.

The house was silent after our call—too silent. Too much of what we'd said spun through my mind. Sighing, I went to my room and changed into some workout gear, then took my phone downstairs and plugged it into the sound system.

***

When Bastian hadn't returned by dinner time, I took matters into my own hands. I wasn't an outstanding cook, by any means, but I could whip up fresh Alfredo sauce, which was by far my specialty. I mean, it was hard to screw up a cream and parmesan base. I prided myself in elevating it with red pepper flakes and fresh garlic. I also found several steamer bags of fresh veggies in the freezer. I selected the peas, then grilled up some frozen chicken breast.

While my sauce simmered, I rummaged around in the pantry, found some crusty sourdough, checked the date, and smiled. For a single guy who shopped twice a week, he seemed to keep a stocked kitchen. He'd had everything I needed, and more.

Except, where did he keep the wine—?

The purr of an engine followed by the rumble of the garage door made me freeze, halfway through the process of buttering bread. I glanced down at the two slices, then grabbed two more. I'd made enough pasta for leftovers, so no issues there. I popped them into the oven right as a door slammed.

"Damn, Sugar. Look at you. Did you cook me dinner?"

I spun around and smiled. My smile faltered. Bastian was spattered with mud and... "Is that...blood?!" My mouth opened and closed, eyes wide.

He strutted forward. "Not mine."

"Whose?!" I demanded, immediately thinking of Luke.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little face over." He inhaled, eyes widening. "You made me fresh Alfredo?"

"That depends..."

"On what?"

"Whether you answer my question."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was...work stuff. No one you know or should worry about. In fact, someone you shouldn't spend an ounce of effort on."

"Work...as in, the WBI? Or work as in...your other thing?" His Enforcer, bounty hunter thing, or whatever it was that he did for the fae.

"My other thing," he said, like it was no big deal.

I swallowed. "But...you're okay?" My eyes darted over him, taking in his disheveled appearance, the rips I noticed in his jeans, like he'd gotten into a fight and someone had used a knife on him.

"Fine as ever, and even better once I eat."

I squared my shoulders. "You're not eating in that state," I scolded. "Go clean yourself up first, it will hold."

"Yes, ma'am." He gave me a two-finger salute, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, then disappeared.

I resumed my search, looking for where he might keep his bottles of wine. I hadn't spotted any kind of wine rack in the house. I tried not to think about Bastian going head-to-head with some bad guy. Tried, and failed. My nipples tightened. It was freaking hot, who was I kidding?