“Kaylin—” Severn caught up, reached out and grabbed her arm.
She yanked it free. Stomped forward. Stopped, wheeled and almost ran into his chest. “How,” she demanded, “was that different? How was grabbing me by the arm different?”
“Kaylin—”
“I mean it! How was that any different than using my name against me?”
“You know why it’s different.”
But she didn’t, not really. “If I knew why, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“It’s different because when I grab your arm, you yank it back. It’s different because you have a choice, in that. It’s different because I know I can—” He stopped.
Kaylin folded her arms. “Listening,” she said, as if listening took colossal effort.
“Kaylin—I hear you all the time. If I listen. If I don’t. I hear you when I’m sleeping. I hear your worries. I hear your anger. I hear your hope. I—hear you.”
“Yes, and?”
“You have some chance of beating me in a fight if we go all out right now—if I don’t use your name to control you.”
Her arms tightened.
“All right, not a great chance—but better than none. When I—when I use your name, if I use it that way, you’ve got no chance at all. I do not want to lose you. I do not want you to walk senselessly to your own death. I don’t care if that’s your choice.
“But it’s been made clear to me that your choice has to count for something. My choice can’t be your life. And I—” He exhaled. “It’s— It was too hard. I don’t know that I have the self-control for this.”
“And if I trust you?”
“Do you?”
All of the past stood between them now, although they were practically touching. She looked at Severn. At his scars. At his brow, at his clear, clear eyes. They looked almost gray, an effect of the early-morning light. A hint of a smile turned the corners of his mouth, but it was a bitter smile.
“I trust you with my life,” she said and looked away.
“It’s hard enough,” he told her. “It’s hard enough without the constant...”
“Constant what? Danger?”
His laugh was low and short. “No, Kaylin. Not danger. Not magic. Not chaos. Not the possible end of the world. Ever since you left Nightshade, I’ve faced that one way or the other.” He lifted his chin, looking skyward; he slid a hand to the back of his neck. She watched the tension ease out of his jaw, although it remained in the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Without what?” she said, in a softer voice.
“Desire.” When she failed to answer, he added, “You asked.”
She had.
“And now you’re panicking.” The rest of the tension left him then. It flooded into her instead. “I don’t want to frighten you.”
At thirteen, she would have said, You don’t scare me. She was old enough now that she didn’t bother with bravado. “I’m not— You’re not—” She exhaled. “I’m—”
“I know.” He lowered his hand. “I will not say I’m waiting for you. I’m not waiting. You’re my partner. You’re my backup. My life is in your hands.”
“Mine is in yours.”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “But you’re the only person I see when I look toward the future. That may change. It may have to change. But regardless, you’re my partner.”
“Except when you feel guilty and ignore me?”
“Except then.”
“I knew,” she said quietly.
“Because of the name?”
“Partly. I don’t want—”
He lifted a hand, pressed a finger against her open mouth. “I know. But here’s the thing: you have to know. Whether it’s yes or no. You have to know.”
She nodded. Closed her eyes. “Next time, tell me? I mean, if you feel guilty, apologize—that’s what most of us do. But don’t—don’t just disappear.”
He didn’t tell her that she knew where to find him, because that wasn’t the point. He didn’t tell her anything else, not in so many words. And the truth was: she was afraid. She was afraid of being wanted by Severn. She was afraid that she couldn’t reciprocate. She was afraid that she could. She was afraid that things would change.
On the one hand, she was unlikely to be able to break his jaw if she froze or panicked, and that was something.
You have to know, Severn told her. You have to know that this is something you want, and not because I want it. Not because what I want overwhelms what you want.
When they reached Elani Street, he knocked over Margot’s sign before Kaylin could.
*
Helen was waiting for Kaylin at the end of the day. She nodded at the familiar, draped across Kaylin’s shoulder.
“Have they finished?” Kaylin asked, as she removed her boots.
“I am not certain they will finish before the end of the week, if you refer to Lord Nightshade and Annarion.”
“But they’re both still alive? That’s something.”