I thank the skies he’s not an Aud or he’d have heard everything I just said. Then I remember that he is a Scire, and two thoughts spring into my head: he will know my hateful feelings toward Aria, and he will smell vomit on me.
Standing, I pull my sleeve behind my back and summon my happiest memory in hopes of softening the bitterness I’m certain is in my temper.
Clara’s giggle comes to mind. The burbling sound my sister makes when she laughs—hopefully preserved despite her time with the Dwellers—is all I can come up with, but it’s enough to make me smile.
Perry stops in front of me, but his eyes hold on Aria for a beat. His hair is pulled back, with the shorter strands pinned behind his ear. “Hey, Brooke.”
“Hey, Per.” I’m relieved that I sound calm.
His weight settles to one hip as he looks around. “Doesn’t look like there’s been much improvement.”
My eyes stray to his narrow waist and then to the dusty leather pants that skim his long, muscular legs. He is nineteen now, and the only boy left in him is his ranginess. The leanness that makes him look even taller than he is.
I take in his crooked nose, his steep cheekbones. The bright green of his unrelenting eyes. He is weathered and softened like a seashell. Beautiful in the exact opposite way of the plain perfectness of the Dwellers.
He looks back at me, waiting for me to respond. I want to say that he improved this place the second he appeared. It’s the kind of thing I would have said once. But I just say, “Not really. If anything, they’re worse.”
“How is she doing?” he asks, tipping his chin.
The coals in my stomach crackle with heat. While I’ve been mooning over how beautiful he is, he’s been thinking about Aria.
I’m losing to a girl who’s unconscious.
“I don’t know.” An hour ago, Molly and Marron huddled by Aria as they discussed her injury, but I wasn’t listening. All I know is that the wound seems to be festering, but that’s true for many things around here.
Perry lets out a slow breath, and his focus settles on me squarely. He is no longer thinking about Aria. He is thinking about me. I know because a shadow falls over his eyes and he suddenly looks guilty. Maybe even a little worried.
“Take a walk with me, Brooke?”
I didn’t expect that. “I can’t right now,” I blurt. All I’ve wanted for months is time alone with him, but now I find myself trying to escape it. “Molly wanted me to—”
“I just saw her. She’s sending Marron and a few others over. She said you’re free to go.”
“Oh. All right.”
As we walk out, I’m glad he’s in front of me so I can try to gather myself. I know nothing is going to happen between us, but it doesn’t appear that my body is aware of this. My pulse races, and anticipation curls through me. It’s a familiar feeling. Six months ago we’d sneak into this cave, Roar and Liv trailing behind us, and I would land in Perry’s arms.
“Brooke,” he says, turning suddenly. We are somewhere in one of the jagged corridors that weave through the caverns inside the mountain. There’s a lantern far ahead, but the light is dim. I can only see the soft glint of the Blood Lord chain at Perry’s neck. “How are you doing?”
Sounds bounce around in all this rock, and though he is two paces away, it feels as though he whispered the question right into my ear. Gooseflesh prickles the skin on my arms.
“Clara’s back. Liv is dead. How do you think I am?”
It’s a rude comment, but I don’t know what else to say. He rejected me. Does he really expect me to confide in him? And I don’t know why he’s asking me that question, anyway. If anyone knows how I am, it’s Perry. His nephew, Talon, was missing just like Clara. And Liv was his sister. He lost her too.
There are no words to describe the emotions colliding inside me. My friend is gone; my sister is back. I am scalding and yet I’m chilled to the bone. I am angry. I am sadder than I’ve ever been in my life. My emotions rise and fall like the stoop and soar of a hawk.