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Killian nods. “You didn’t take me for the creative type?”

“Nor the magickal rock type.” I shrug.

“I’m betting you carry a lot of misconceptions when it comes to me.” His gaze bores deeper. “Maybe someday I’ll have a chance to prove them all wrong. Or at least the bad ones.”

I shoot a covert look across the room. Braxton is still talking to Hawke, but it looks like they’re close to wrapping up.

Sensing my unease, Killian speaks quickly. “Put it in your pocket or the bottom of your shoe. Or, if it makes you feel bad, leave it behind. I just know that whenever I Trip, I like to keep a reminder of the one time it went terribly sideways.”

The one time. And by that you meanthetime—the one where you claim Braxton left you behind.

“Why would you carry a reminder of a bad Trip?” I ask, and though I know I shouldn’t do this—if anything, I should be encouraging him to move on—I truly am curious.

Killian leans closer. So close I can feel his breath on my cheek. “Because I can’t afford to forget,” he says.

A rush of chills sprints down my spine. It’s the exact same thing Braxton said about keeping the boots.

“You all right, Shiv?” Killian draws away. “You’ve gone a wee bit pale.” He’s back to his fake accent again. But I know he’s only trying to lighten the mood.

“I guess I’m just surprised by all the talismans, good-luck charms, and superstitions that go along with Tripping,” I say, my voice wavering in a telling way.

“Venturing into the unknown has always been daunting,” he says. “And many of those superstitions have been carried through time. For instance, you should never sail on a boat with no name—you’ve heard that one, right? And throwing a coin into the Trevi Fountain in Rome ensures you’ll return. And, if ye find yerself in Ireland, lass, you best be kissin’ the Blarney Stone to ensure yerself some good fortune and luck.”

“Thank you,” I say. “For the charm and…” My gaze wanders toward Braxton, who’s now just a few feet away. “You should go.”

Killian doesn’t check to see what we both already know. That in a handful of steps, Braxton will join us.

“For the record,” he says, “I would hug you goodbye, but I didn’t much like the feel of Braxton’s fist on my jaw the last time around, so I see no point in courting that now.”

I shoot him a questioning look.What the heck is he even talking about?

But Killian just shakes his head. “Godspeed, Shiv,” he says, managing to slip away just seconds before Braxton reaches my side.

40

“Everything okay?” Braxton slips an arm around my waist and presses a kiss somewhere north of my ear.

“Of course,” I say. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Then, realizing how defensive that sounded, I soften my tone. “He was just wishing me good luck on our Trip.”

Braxton’s mouth flattens like he doesn’t believe it. But who he doesn’t believe is the question—is it Killian or me?

“Don’t forget he was there when the last Trip went bad,” I say. “And if it wasn’t for him—” I stop, deciding to end it right there. No point in going over it again.

“But you were cleared by Dr. Lucy, right?” Braxton studies my face.

I nod, but when my gaze meets his, it’s Killian’s voice that sounds in my head.

Killian put more trust in me than the doctor. But Braxton clearly doesn’t.

I’m about to call him out on it when the music stops and Elodie takes to the stage.

“Hey, everyone!” She gives a little wave. “Just a quick thanks for showing up and putting some serious effort into your outfits—and I’m looking at you, Keane!” Everyone laughs. “Since Braxton and Natasha have an early morning tomorrow, I’ll make this quick. You two”—she points our way—“buon viaggio! And Mason…” She squints around the room until she locates him. “Congrats on making Yellow!” The room erupts into cheers and applause. “And also, Mason, just so you know, you got off way easy this time, and you can thank your friend Natasha for that. She absolutely forbade me from putting you through the usual hazing. So, if you’re still grudging hard against her, you might reconsider.” From across the room, Mason shoots me a look. I shrug in return. “Oh, and one more thing.” Elodie pins her focus on me. “Not that I’m keeping score, but Nat, feel free to count that as number five. And with that—” She lifts her champagne flute and drains what little is left. “I bid you good night!”

As Elodie leaves with Jago by her side, Braxton turns to me. “Number five?” he asks.

“The number of times she’s done a good deed on my behalf.” I shrug. “She’s determined to prove herself, and she wants me to notice.”

All around us, I watch as some people leave while others make for the dance floor.