Page 51 of Inextricably Tied

“Like me.”

Flint huffs a laugh. “Sure. Actually, one of the girls Harbinger went to school with traversed through dreams.”

Agony perks at that. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Flint stands. “Pretty sure Harbinger hated her.”

Agony sneers as Flint moves toward the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as steam rolls out. Past the stone wall of tile, a strip of Harbinger’s skin is visible, pink from the heat and her insistent scrubbing.

“We don’t have to stay here,” Flint reminds her.

Harbinger scrubs harder. “We do if we’re going to figure out where the girls are.”

Flint’s rarely seen her do it, scouring her skin like a punishment to further irritate her ability. “Harbin…” His voice is barely louder than the water against the tiled floor. He steps closer until she stops the assault on her arms. “I know you want to help those girls and their families, but it’s not worth hurting yourself to do it. I know we disagree on that, but we can find another way. We always do.”

Of that, he’s certain. Water splashes against her chest, the hand that had scrubbed so vigorously falling back to her side.

“I didn’t think coming back here would make me so…”

The thought trails off. Agony appears in the doorway.

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure your presence was enough to work the stick up the Diviner Superior’s ass straight into her tonsils.”

Harbinger laughs. “Yeah, they’re pretty precious about their Oracle.”

Agony leans against the other side of the doorframe. “Why is that?”

Flint’s prepared to tell him to knock it off when Harbinger lathers gently over the curve of her hip.

“For devout believers, it’s their god. They worship the Oracle. They think it’s a being, or a consciousness, somewhere between life and death. The Oracle ‘blesses’ banshees with their abilities. In return, banshees are supposed to use those abilities to honor the Oracle. To be mouthpieces for it. That’s the line the Convent gives, anyway.”

“Honor it how?”

“By staying in the community. Giving thanks for whatever ‘gift’ you’ve been bestowed. Providing services to acceptable outsiders, often for a generous donation.”

Agony’s eyes narrow as Harbinger rinses her hair. “But you don’t think that.”

The water shuts off. “If it’s true, the Oracle can kiss my ass.”

Flint hands her a towel to dry off. Hair hangs damp against her skin, streaks across the hollows and bones of her chest, one strand curving over the top of her breasts.

“You’re staring.”

Flint jerks his eyes up, but Harbinger isn’t looking at him. At least, not only at him. Her gaze cuts between the two men with a hint of amusement.

Flint prickles. “What?”

“Didn’t expect to see the two of you not plotting ways to piss each other off.”

Both Agony and Flint lean against opposite sides of the doorway, a foot of space between them, waiting for her. They both straighten at once, which widens Harbinger’s grin before she passes between them.

Flint clears his throat, nudging Agony out of the way as she moves back into the room. “So what’s the plan? Should we prepare for tomorrow?”

“Oh, there’s no way to prepare you for what you’re about to experience.” Harbinger catches his eyes in the mirror across the room, smirk settling on her face. “The Seers are gonna eat you alive.”

SEVENTEEN

Flint