Watercolour Smile by Jane Washington

look defiled.”
    “I wasn’t defiled!”
    He wiggled his brows at me and then crawled up to straddle me, leaning over to untie the scarf. Naturally, Silas chose that moment to walk into the room.
    His steps faltered, his dark eyes blinking through astonishment, before settling into something cold.
    “Three seconds,” he said to Clarin, his voice jagged.
    Clarin finished untying the scarf before leaping off me. “Hey,” he held his hands up jokingly, but even I could see the wariness in his eyes, “wasn’t me! I found her like that. I was just untying her.” He tossed the scarf to the bed.
    Silas glanced at me, and I tried not to notice the way his eyebrow twitched in question.
    Clarin might have suspected that I was bonded to Quillan and Silas—since I had told Tabby as much, but he also saw the way I acted with Noah and Cabe. He hadn’t actually vocalised an opinion to me at all. He avoided the subject carefully.
    I yawned, arching into a stretch now that my arms had been freed. “Morning, Silas.”
    I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my face at the sight of him. His knuckles were smooth and unmarked, his face rested and neutral. He hadn’t gone out last night, and it made me unbearably happy, despite our turbulent relationship.
    “Angel.”
    I stumbled from the bed, giving Clarin a light shove. “What are you waking me up for?”
    “The grim reaper over there asked me to.” Clarin nodded his head in Silas’s direction.
    Silas kicked back against the wall, folding his arms and resting his dark eyes on us, saying nothing. I moved to the closet and pulled open the door, freezing. I turned back to the room.
    “Clarin, could you give us a moment?”
    “Sure.” He made for the door, but glanced back at Silas. “Please don’t eat her, or take her back to your demon’s lair to share her soul with the rest of the boogiemen.”
    Silas’s lips twitched, elongating the scar on the left side into a menacing hint of lazy mirth. Clarin blinked, and then shook himself, as if bringing himself out of a daze—though perhaps, more likely, he was trying to fight off the usual terror that people felt when confronted with Silas’s modicum of emotion. I opened the closet door wide when Clarin left, and Cabe and Noah strolled out, as casual as if they’d been having a tea party, instead of hiding from Clarin.
    “Um, what?” I managed.
    “We heard him thundering up the stairs.” Noah grinned. “We’re trying to save our reputation, remember?”
    “Why’d you tie her up?” Silas asked from the other side of the room.
    I turned to him cautiously, but there was no anger in his expression. There was nothing in his expression at all.
    “This,” Cabe swooped up the scarf and fluttered it out, “is a magical Seraph-deterrent.”
    “I see,” Silas said. “Pack it with her stuff then. We need to leave in half an hour.”
     
     

 
     
    Silas and I arrived in Seattle at midday. As soon as I spotted Tariq at the station, I dropped my bags and ran through the crowds to pull him into my arms. His face was blessedly, beautifully the same.
    He laughed and patted my back awkwardly. “Hey there, bundle of joy. What did you do with my sister?”
    I pulled back and shook my head. “Sorry, I’m just happy to see that you’re okay.”
    “Never been better. Silas left me the keys for his Jaguar. They were in a drawer of business cards for pretty much every police officer in Washington, so I only took it out once…” he trailed off as Silas came up behind me. I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
    “Hello, Tariq,” Silas said easily, though an easy tone for Silas was something resembling the way every evil witch preened… right before they locked you in a basement.
    “H-hey,” Tariq stuttered, shooting me a look. “Did the trip go okay?”
    I nodded and Silas moved past him, toward the car park. Tariq watched him go and I patted his arm. “Don’t worry about him. Tell me what’s been happening?