CHAPTER 23
WE DANCED UNTIL my feet hurt, then G-10 cut me a slice of cake as big as my head. It tasted like nothing I’d ever had: moist and sweet with a hint of lemon. It practically melted in my mouth. G-10 took inordinate pride in detailing how he and Avan helped Chef Rennard prepare it while Hina shouted unproductive suggestions. Afterward, other hollows took my hand and guided me around the floor a few times before returning me to G-10. I collapsed onto a bench and downed another of the tart fruit drinks. Beside me, G-10 looked flushed, his blue eyes bright.
“I think,” he said, “I’ve settled on a name.”
“I was growing fond of G-10.”
He made a face. “Ninu assigned me that name.”
“Oh, well, then it’s a terrible name. What should I call you now?”
“Mason,” he said, and waited for my response. He seemed uncertain.
“That’s a great name. Very strong.”
“Mason it is, then.” He reached out and nudged the hair sticking to my cheek. His knuckles were light against my skin.
In the training ring, he was brutal. Away from it, he was deliberately careful with me. He didn’t hide behind different faces like Avan. Mason was just Mason—whatever his name: serene, controlled, disciplined.
“Excuse me.”
We both looked up at Avan. Mason’s hand fell away.
Avan regarded Mason for a moment before he turned to me. “Dance with me?”
Mason’s fingers brushed my elbow, urging me to stand. “Go on.”
He waved at the musicians, and the song ended with a screech of strings. When the music started again, the notes were slow and silvery. I didn’t know how to move to this. Avan pulled me close with a hand at my back.
“Are you having fun?” I asked, resting my hands on his shoulders, where the other girl had held on to him.
“Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party.”
Avan had been a fixture at the underground clubs. I knew this because everyone did—up until a couple of years ago when he’d stopped going. And somehow he had still managed to open his dad’s shop every morning. Bleary-eyed and rumpled, but there all the same.
The girls at school liked to corner me for details, convinced that because I was Avan’s friend, I had insider information on him. But Avan didn’t talk about his private life, and I never asked. I didn’t want to know.
“The clubs—are they like this?”
He smirked. Someone had dimmed the lanterns, and the low light stained his eyes black. His hands seared my waist. The shadows cut his dimple deeper into his cheek.
“Yes and no. Lots of people, some music and dancing. But mostly it’s just an excuse for kids to screw around without fear of the Watchmen.”
“I’ve wondered about them.”
“Don’t. The clubs wouldn’t have been right for you,” he said. At the look on my face, he added, “That’s a compliment. Trust me.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Avan’s past made me intensely curious—and maybe a little unreasonably jealous—but no one in Ninurta was innocent, and Avan had turned out better than most.
When I’d first met him, I’d treated him brusquely because of my assumptions about him. But even after we became friends, I kept my distance. Not because I didn’t trust him, as he probably still assumed, but because I refused to let him sweep me into that category of people: those who’d slept with him and then spoke of him afterward with smug words and vulgar smiles. As far as I could tell, the gossip didn’t bother him.
But it bothered me, and I wouldn’t have him thinking I was like them.
If there was ever to be any sort of “us”—the sum of much more than just him and me—I wanted to be different. I wouldn’t accept just one night.
“And I like this better,” he said, smiling—not the blinding smile used to charm people but a private one, even though people surrounded us on all sides. “What about you?”
“Not bad for my first party.” I closed my eyes, feeling strangely light-headed. I could smell the soap the hollows had used to wash our clothes, and his skin—citrus and vanilla from the kitchen, and an earthy warmth from dancing. His breath, warm against my temple, smelled sweet like the cake. Would he taste sweet as well?
I didn’t know what was happening between us—what had been happening between us—but his friendship was worth more than all of Ninurta. I couldn’t do anything to mess that up.
My fingers tightened against his shoulders before letting go. “I’m tired,” I said, looking at his chin. “I’m going to clean up and go to bed.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No,” I said, pressing my hand against his chest. “You should stay and enjoy yourself. I doubt we’ll get another chance after tonight.”
I gave him a light shove to stay put. Then I backed away, and, with a wave, I wove through the crowd, heading for the door. Hands brushed my shoulders as I left, words of parting and well wishes shouted over the music. I responded to them with rushed thanks that I hoped conveyed how glad I was to share this night with them. I had lost Hina in the crowd, but I’d see her tomorrow.
At the door, someone grabbed my wrist. I looked back, expecting Avan.
Mason gave me a half smile. “Can I walk you up?”
“I’m not going to get lost.”
He laughed quietly. “Can I walk you anyway?”
“Sure.”
We didn’t talk as we climbed the staircase, but it felt nice to have him there beside me. I realized how much I would miss him. When we arrived at the dormitories, I glanced between Avan’s door and mine. Remembering the way that girl had whispered in his ear, I decided I should sleep in my own room tonight. After Mason left, I would just slip into his room long enough to retrieve my mattress. I ignored the ache in my chest, as well as that inner voice urging me to claim my space on his cot instead.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Mason said. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but I was glad when he didn’t.
I gave him a hug, then mumbled good night and shut my door.
I was swimming in the place between dreams and awareness when a knock jolted me awake. For a moment, I almost expected to see Reev lying on his cot across our little freight container. A lump in my throat, I went to answer the door.
Avan stood in the hall, hands shoved into his back pockets and shoulders hunched. His whole body seemed to unfurl in relief at the sight of me.
“You weren’t—” He gestured at his room. “I thought maybe you . . . had gotten lost. Or something.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.
I was too tired to try and make sense of what he was saying. I made vague motions between my door and his. “You’re alone?”
He checked over his shoulder as if someone might have crept up behind him. “Pretty sure,” he said awkwardly, as if confused by my question.
“Oh. Well.” I gave a small yawn and rubbed my eyes. “Okay then.”
His embarrassment seemed to melt away as his mouth curved into a crooked smile. He moved closer. His scent enveloped me.
I found myself leaning forward. Blinking, I grasped the door to keep steady. My pulse quickened as his face drew nearer. My hand tightened around the doorknob. I stared at his mouth and shivered.
“Did you want to be alone?” he murmured. His fingers skimmed my jaw and rested just beneath my ear.
No. I wanted to reach up and guide his lips down to mine. I knew my reaction was due in part to the lingering gauze of sleep, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be rational. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, savoring the way his palm cupped my neck. My thoughts felt muddled, drowned out behind the veil of darkness and the haze of warmth spreading through me.
“Kai,” he whispered, and even though my name was like a sigh in the silence, I could hear the question in it.
My eyes opened and sought out his in the scant light. I wasn’t sure what he was asking—why I hadn’t kept our usual arrangement and slept in his cot or . . . if I wanted him to join me in mine.
So I gave him the easier answer of the two. “I figured you’d want your privacy tonight.”
His confusion lasted for a second before he realized what I meant. I caught a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.
“I see,” he said, and backed away.
Drek. I was instantly wide-awake. What was wrong with me? Idiot!
I stepped into the hall and watched him push his own door open. I wanted to reach out, but I didn’t know if my touch would be welcome now. “Avan, wai—”
“Sorry for waking you,” he said, and shut his door before I could say anything else.