Gods & Monsters (Serpent & Dove #3) by Shelby Mahurin

He immediately looked to Beau. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Did Célie mention me on your travels?”

“Yes.” He turned to Reid without expounding on the answer, despite Jean Luc’s vehement protests. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Another grin. This one harder. “I dare you to magic that copper hair blue.”

Reid’s face flushed puce. “I can’t—how dare you—”

“Compartmentalization isn’t healthy, brother. You saw your face on that wanted poster with the naughty W-word, yet I don’t think you’ve acknowledged it.” He arched a brow in challenge. “Denial is the first stage of grief.”

“Truth,” Reid said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, it is.” Beau leaned forward earnestly. “Why can’t you stop looking at our lovely Louise?”

If possible, Reid’s face flushed deeper. It looked physically uncomfortable now, the amount of blood in his cheeks. I started giggling. “Because I want to kill her—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Beau wagged a reproving finger before tapping the bottle in Reid’s hand. “A lie means two.”

When Reid furiously swallowed two shots—without hesitation, without denying his falsehood—an entirely different kind of warmth cracked open in my chest, flowing through my limbs. I sat up on my knees, bouncing with exhilaration. The room swirled with a lovely, rosy hue. “Truth or dare, Jean Luc.”

He didn’t even pretend to be interested. “Truth.”

“Do you regret what happened on Modraniht?”

A beat of silence passed.

Reluctantly, his eyes flicked to Reid, who looked downright murderous now. Or downright nauseous. Still, he didn’t interrupt the game, and the sudden sharpness in his own eyes betrayed his interest. He wanted to know this truth. He wanted to know it very much. After a moment, Jean Luc scrubbed a hand down his face and muttered, “Yes and no. I don’t regret following orders. The rules exist for a reason. Without them, we have chaos. Anarchy.” He heaved a sigh, not looking at anyone now. “But I do regret the rules themselves.” Dropping his hand, he asked Reid, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Is your heart still with the Chasseurs?”

They stared at each other for another long moment. I leaned forward eagerly, holding my breath, while Beau pretended not to listen and hung on every word. Reid tore his gaze away first, breaking the silence. “Is yours?”

Jean Luc leaned over and plucked the whiskey from his hand. After swallowing, he climbed to his feet and handed me the bottle on his way out. “I think I’m done for the night.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

“And then there were three,” Beau murmured, still toying with the edge of the quilt. He winked at me abruptly. “I dare you to lick the bottom of my shoe.”

Another half hour of antics ensued. The dares from Beau and me grew more and more ridiculous—serenade us, do four cartwheels, curse like a sailor for twenty seconds straight—while the questions grew more personal—What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth? To come out of your body?—until Reid was good and thoroughly drunk. He staggered over to me at his next turn, crouching down and dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder. Grayish light tinged the window.

His voice slurred. “What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”

I might’ve snorted whiskey from my nose. “I never told you I was a witch. In Chasseur Tower. You never knew.”

“That’s stupid. How could I not have known?”

“An excellent question—”

“Lou, my darling sister”—Beau flung an arm over his face in a truly dramatic fashion, still lounging on the bed—“you must tell me: Do Coco and I stand a chance?”

“Of course you do! She’s head over heels for you. Anyone can see that.”

“Does she see that?” He peered at me through bleary eyes. The bottle in his hand held an alarming amount of whiskey now—which was to say, not much at all. “She called me Ansel, you know. The other day. She didn’t mean it, of course, but it just sort of slipped”—he began to tip the bottle over the quilt, but I crossed the room and snatched it from him just in time—“out. She’d been laughing at a joke I’d made.” He looked up at me suddenly, his gaze sharper and clearer. Calmer. “She has a lovely laugh, doesn’t she? I love her laugh.”

Gently, I pressed him back against the pillow. “You love more than her laugh, Beau.”

His lashes fluttered. “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

“No.” I pulled the blanket to his chin, tucking it around him. “But I dare you to tell her anyway.”

“Tell her . . .” His voice drifted on an enormous yawn. “. . . what?”

“That you love her.”

He laughed again as his eyes finally closed, and his body succumbed to sleep.

And then there were two.

I turned to face Reid, startled to find him directly behind me. His eyes fixed on mine with a deep, unsettling intensity that hadn’t been there before. “Truth or dare.”

Butterflies erupted in my belly as he stepped closer still. Heat washed across every inch of my skin. “Truth.”