A few more turns led me past the Archives but still hadn’t brought me to the Elders. They had moved beyond the offices, into a place that I had always been told was reserved for storage of extra wardrobes and comps. Outside a final doorway, their voices became clear.
Oz’s hand pressed against the small of my back. His gray eyes darkened with worry as they flicked between the hushed tones filtering into the hallway and me. He jerked his head back the way we came, expression turning from pleading to frantic and finally to anger as I shook my head repeatedly, a finger pressed against my lips.
He gave up, throwing his hands in the air, and I turned my attention to the conversation he didn’t want me to overhear. One of the Gatlings spoke—their voices were indistinguishable even when they weren’t on the other side of a closed door, so I had no idea which one.
“… assignments for this week?”
There were a few beeps and shuffling noises, like the sound table comps made as they raced through a search request. I had no idea there were more research labs back here.
“Maude, you and Minnie try to figure out how to influence Cecil Beaton,” Zeke’s unmistakable voice rasped. “I’ll continue to scrub the references we decided on, and David has an assignment already.”
David Truman cleared his throat. “And Oz?”
Before I could hear the answer, footsteps approached us from behind. Oz’s hand tightened on my wrist, whipping me around to face him, and before I could protest he’d shoved open the door to the room across the hall and dragged me inside.
Then his lips were on mine, his hands shoving me against the wall as he kissed me hard.
My instincts begged me to scratch at his eyes, punch him in the nose, and scream bloody murder, but as the door across the hall flew open and twin exclamations of surprise rang out, I understood he was trying to give us some cover.
I felt his surprise as I relaxed and kissed him back, softening my lips against his to play my part. His arms tightened around me, pulling our bodies flush together.
We broke apart at the sound of a cleared throat. Dizziness tipped me off balance—shocked from being caught, disoriented from being kissed by Oz, of all people, and a little bit stunned by how quickly my life was spinning out of control.
Truman and Booth stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised.
My face heated with confusion and embarrassment, and for his part, Oz looked properly flushed and ashamed. To an outside eye, the two of us looked exactly like a couple of teenagers who’d been caught making out in an off-limits area, not people who spent their days threatening one another and the last ten minutes stalking the Elders in charge of their futures.
“What are the two of you doing here?” Booth demanded. His lanky, frail frame filled the doorway, and with his arms crossed, he was imposing enough to make me shrink closer to Oz.
I don’t know what instinct made him snake an arm around my back in support, but at the moment, it steadied me. It was even better when he spoke first.
“Do we really need to answer that? Because I’m pretty sure you just got an eyeful of the answer.”
Oh, stars, did he really just say that like a cocky asshole who’d gotten handsy in the back of a closet at a party? He really was well and good off his freaking nut.
Booth didn’t look amused by the smarmy answer. The lines of his face appeared stern even when he meant to be kind, and his dark eyes studied us with more disappointment than anything.
Before he could respond, Truman reached out and grabbed a fistful of his son’s shirt, dragging him away from me. “I expect these sort of infractions from Kaia, but not from you. We’ve all taken a great risk, believing that you’re ready, based on how responsible you’ve always been. This is unacceptable. You have a True Companion. This girl is not worth losing everything.” Truman let go of Oz’s shirt, shoving him a little harder than necessary so that he banged into me.
I reached out to steady him, unsure whether I was playing the part of the insulted lover or simply being nice. “Hey. I’m standing right here. If you’re going to talk bad about me at least wait until you’re alone.”
“Sarah Beckwith is your friend, Kaia. Your roommate. What are you thinking?” Booth asked, his voice soft, filled with the concern that had been missing from Truman’s.
The question twisted my stomach, shame and guilt churning the sherbet punch into a soup of nausea. I hadn’t wanted to kiss Oz, but Booth didn’t know that. And Sarah wouldn’t, either, if she found out. She might not even believe me. I suddenly regretted not confiding everything to her and Analeigh at the same time because the thought of her believing I would ever do any such thing felt like a punch in the chest. Oz and I were … friends, I supposed. Classmates. Now, apparently, conspirators. But would she believe me?
“I don’t know, Elder Booth. I … we got carried away. It won’t happen again.”
“Please return to your dormitory. We’ll decide on your sanction and meet with you both tomorrow morning.” Truman dismissed me, his cold gaze trained on his son.
My feet refused to move, for some reason concerned about Oz. Only I had been dismissed, and the fury flashing in his father’s gaze almost made me worry for my classmate’s safety.
I didn’t need to feel responsible for Oz getting into hot water, and Truman wouldn’t hurt his own son. I had enough trouble managing my regrets over getting myself in trouble after my questionable decision making these past several days.
Booth stepped to one side of the doorway, beckoning me through with a pointed look, his patience clearly wearing thin. Oz nodded when I looked back at him, his eyes hiding whatever he was feeling. He reached up to wipe his lips, as though trying to smudge away the memory of mine.
With my emotions a jumbled mess, I hurried back toward my room. Sanctions were public record, so the hope of hiding what had happened tonight didn’t exist, and one question weighed on me heavier than all the others right now.
How in the System was I going to explain this to Sarah?
*