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

Beau scoffed in disbelief. “What are we supposed to do, then? Twiddle our thumbs on the shore?”

“How do you know so much about L’Eau Mélancolique?” Coco asked at the same time.

“Tell us the favors.” I raised my voice over theirs. Yes, this strange little cart had appeared from thin air. This stranger little woman seemed to know all our plans, to know Nicholina. Truthfully, she seemed more . . . inquisitive than nefarious, and what choice did we have? We needed the pearls. Her pearls. We could deal with the consequences after we’d procured them.

The woman in question rubbed her gnarled hands together. “We’ll start with the easy one, yes? Just a kiss.”

Just a kiss.

Silence descended like a knife dropped point-first. Instead of lodging at our feet, however, it hovered over our heads. Deadly and sharp. No one dared look at another. I didn’t glance at Célie or Nicholina. Neither peeked at me. Beau and Coco stared resolutely at the floor. Finally, I asked, “Between . . . who?”

Cackling, Madame Sauvage lifted a crooked finger to Beau and Coco.

The knife hit its mark.

Beau stiffened. Coco gaped. The tension knotting my own spine, however, left in a rush, and I tried not to sigh with relief. Célie had no qualms. She sagged against a basket of beetles with a shaky laugh.

“The liars, of course.” Madame Sauvage nodded with what might’ve been encouragement. Or glee. “They shall kiss, and the truth shall out. There is truth in a kiss,” she added to Célie and me conspiratorially. Célie nodded, though I suspected not because she agreed. No. Because she’d do anything to avoid Madame Sauvage’s ire now.

I nodded right along with her.

Coco barely moved her lips as she mumbled, “I’m not lying about anything.”

Beau snorted at that.

Though sympathetic to Coco’s plight—truly—I reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “Whatever it takes, right?”

She scowled at me.

I smothered a grin. I wasn’t enjoying this. I wasn’t.

Pushing my hand aside with a muttered curse, she stepped forward. Stopped. Closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she opened them again, stony resolve had hardened in their depths. She nodded once to Beau, who looked strangely reluctant. He didn’t shrink from her gaze, however. Didn’t ease the tension with a joke. He simply stared at her, unmoving. “Just do it,” she said. “Hurry up.”

He grimaced at the words but took a small step forward, lowering his voice. “If I remember correctly, Cosette, you don’t like it hurried.” Another step. Coco’s fingers still trembled. She fisted them in her skirt. “Not with me.”

“I don’t like anything with you.”

One side of his mouth quirked as he looked down at her, but my own humor faded at his expression. I didn’t want to see the emotions in his eyes. I didn’t want to see the tenderness. The ache. Even so, his reluctance shone just as clear. He didn’t want to kiss her. Not here. Not now. Not like this. “Liar,” he whispered.

Then he lowered his lips to hers.

A heartbeat passed as they stood there, bodies rigid and separate. Lips barely touching. Two heartbeats. Three. With a sigh of resignation, Beau moved to pull away, but Coco—

I rolled my eyes.

She wouldn’t let him. Her hands crept up his neck, into his hair, holding him there. No. Bringing him closer. Deepening the kiss. When her lips parted on a sigh, he didn’t hesitate, his arm snaking out around the small of her back and hauling her flush against him. But it wasn’t close enough. Not for Coco. She pressed harder, clutched him tighter, until he chuckled and walked her backward. When her back hit the nearest shelf, he lifted her atop it, spread her knees to push between them. Slow and measured. Unhurried. Until she bit his lip. Something seemed to snap in him then.

Beside me, Célie watched their hands grow frantic—their breaths louder—with round, startled eyes. Her cheeks flamed scarlet. “Oh my,” she said.

I averted my gaze. “This has been a long time coming.”

“Or not coming,” Madame Sauvage said, arching a wry brow.

I cringed at the innuendo. “How old are you?”

“Young enough, boy. I’m young enough.”

Right. With that imagery in my head, I cleared my throat. Beau had just slid a hand up Coco’s calf, hooking it around her knee to pull her closer. His fingers caressed her skin there. I repeated the sound, louder this time, and grinned despite myself. “Hello! Yes, pardon!” My grin deepened when he pulled back abruptly, as if surfacing from deep water. Blinking slow. Breathing heavy. “As it seems to have escaped your notice, there are other people here.”

He still didn’t acknowledge us, however. He stared at Coco instead. She stared at him. Neither spoke for several seconds. At last, with infinite gentleness, he brushed his lips against her forehead and stepped away, tugging her skirt back into place. “We’ll finish this later.”

Her awareness seemed to return then. Her sense. She leapt from the shelf hastily, knocking aside a bin of glass eyes. They scattered across the floor of the cart. When she tripped on one, pinwheeling into Nicholina, Beau caught her arm. She tried to tug it away. “Don’t touch me. I’m fine.” She slipped on another eye, kicking it viciously in response. “I said I’m fine.”