Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)

Long, flat tables fill the floor, their surfaces covered in all kinds of tools and machinery. Cabinets along the walls are brimming over with gadgets and electronic trinkets, and the glowing holograms of hundreds of measurements and equations crowd every particle of the room’s air.

“Since I’m always traveling, I like to keep workstations on every House . . . in case Neith or ’Nox need a tune-up.” I notice his gray coveralls hanging on a peg near the door. “The shield is up, so no one can access the Psy from here.”

“Thanks.” I step through floating words and numbers. “Where do you sleep?”

He leads me to a door at the far end of the workspace. On its other side is a lavish suite decorated in the dichromatic style of the lobby. The floor is checkered with black-and-white marble, the furniture is black levlan, and the tables are crystal. There’s an expansive living room, a reading room, a kitchen, a dining area, a series of bedrooms and bathrooms, and a balcony that wraps around the whole space.

“Anything I can get you?” asks Hysan, opening his arms wide, as though the whole world were at his reach.

“The news,” I say, thinking of Ochus. I need to know if he’s attacked again.

Hysan nods and turns on the wallscreen, muting the audio. I wait for him to sit, and then I take the other end of the couch, careful to keep a cushion between us.

We watch the images from Sagittarius for a while. Next there’s a quick report on the surge in hate crimes against Risers on Aries, Leo, and Aquarius. Historically, there’s been a stigma around them, and they’re one of the few social groups that still faces prejudice in the Zodiac, even if it’s unpopular in most Houses to adopt that standpoint.

No updates on Cancer. No bombs at the Plenum. No attack on Gemini. This is torture, just blindly waiting for Ochus’s next move. “What do we do now, Hysan?”

“We keep fighting, of course,” he says, looking from the screen to me.

“Mathias doesn’t believe me.” I know Hysan isn’t the best person to discuss Mathias with, but I need to talk to someone. I’ve never been so confused . . . or alone.

“I’m sorry, Rho.”

“After everything Charon said at the Plenum, and those photos and the documents he showed . . . I can’t blame him. Or Sirna, or any of them. I wish I could not believe me. If I could lie to myself, or question my memory . . . but my memory never lets me forget.” The last part comes out bitter, so I clear my throat and look away.

“I believe you.”

When I turn to meet his gaze, my inhale sounds like a whispered breath. Hysan has slid closer, onto the cushion between us, but he doesn’t cross the dividing line.

“Why?” I ask, even though it’s dumb to question one of your only followers.

“I trust you,” he says simply, and I see no evidence of game-playing in his face. “I may not have your natural ability to read the stars, but I’m a natural at reading people.” He takes my hand, and as his warmth seeps into my skin, I feel a flicker of hope. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak today. I should have tried yesterday.”

“They wouldn’t have listened. I just wish I could at least convince my friends. After everything the three of us have been though, why can’t Mathias trust me? Why does he need proof?”

Hysan’s eyes grow soft with sympathy, and the golden star in his right iris shines brighter than before. “Shall I quote that line about people who think in straight lines, or have you already committed it to your infallible memory, my lady?”

I want to laugh and kiss him at the same time. And then just the thought of doing either of those things makes me want to jump and run away.

I’ve never felt further from myself in my life—from home, from my family, from the person I was before this began. As Hysan starts to lean a little closer, I grasp for conversation. “Why haven’t you been around much these days?”

His expressive eyes grow darker, becoming more present, as if every atom of his being were pouring itself into this moment. “I didn’t mean to desert you, my lady.” His face still seems to be coming closer, until his features blur in front of me, and I can almost feel his lips brush mine as they shape his next words. “But I’d rather not say.”

I pull away, hurt. “Another secret, after what you told me today at the arena?”

His golden brow wrinkles, like he’s considering my point, and then his expression clears. “Okay.” He moves in for my mouth again, and the cedary scent of his hair and the sweetness of his breath tempt me closer. “The truth is, I don’t know what it’s like to introduce my parents to the girl of my dreams . . . but it didn’t feel fair to ruin it for Mathias.”

The feelings for Hysan that I’ve been suppressing seem to burst through my chest, and I press my mouth into his. My heart is fluttering with so many nerves that I’m worried it’ll fly up my throat and escape my body—

Then the door to the suite clicks open.





31


WE FLY APART AS MATHIAS walks in from the workroom.

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