Vane.
My head snaps up, and I smear the traitorous tears away with my hands. He’s balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to jump back.
I can’t blame him. My behavior is far from the composed, commanding presence I was trained to present when his mind finally had a breakthrough.
I have to get it together. This is another . . . complication. I’ll find the solution.
I clear my throat, brushing my hair out of my face as I rise. I wish I had time to rebraid it—and change back into my uniform—but I have to settle for tucking it behind my ears and smoothing the fabric of my dress.
“I’m sorry,” I say, proud that I sound strong and steady. “We need to talk.”
“You think?” His pitch is an octave higher than I’m used to. “Who are you—and what the hell do you mean, I just killed everyone?”
“Keep your voice down.” I step toward him, but he jerks away.
“Don’t come any closer—and don’t tell me what to freaking do. You’re in my house.”
“I know. And if you don’t want your parents to find me, you need to be quiet.”
He glares at me, clearly not happy I’ve made a valid point. “Who are you?”
“My name is Audra. I have all the answers you’re looking for, Vane. But we need to have this conversation somewhere private. Will you come with me?”
Rebellion wars in his eyes. And after the way I acted, I can’t blame him. Which only makes it more frustrating.
My head throbs from the strain I put my body through. I rub my temples and take a deep, slow breath as I study the lines of his face—a face I know so well I can recall every detail from memory. Fear is etched in every feature, making him look older. Pained.
I’ve been ordered to make him trust me, but in that moment I’m surprised to realize I want him to trust me.
“Please, Vane. I need you to come with me.” My eyes hold his as I take a cautious step toward him. I reach out and let my fingers brush down his arm. He flinches but doesn’t pull away—even when I take his hand.
His skin feels smooth and warm, and my fingers tingle as they absorb his heat.
Strange.
It’s been years since I’ve touched anyone. My body must not know how to respond.
Vane stares at our hands, the fear in his face fading into uncertainty. “Is it safe?”
“Completely.”
“Is it far away?”
“We can walk there.”
“And you promise you’ll explain everything?”
“Everything.”
His eyes challenge me. Dare me to break my promise. He doesn’t understand it’s part of my job to tell him everything. But he will soon enough.
I pull him toward the window.
“Wait—we’re going out that way?”
“I can’t exactly walk out the front door—especially in this.” I point to my tiny blue-black dress. It seemed revealing earlier, when I was alone. Now, in the light of his room, with his eyes trailing over me, I feel almost naked.
Especially when he grins and says, “Yeah, my mom definitely wouldn’t approve.”
I drop his hand and fold my arms across my chest. I’d almost forgotten how obnoxious he can be. “Let’s go.”
I leap through the window without looking back. It isn’t a far fall—the house only has one story—but there’s an unfamiliar ache in my joints when my feet hit the ground.
The water.
I bite my lip, taking deep breaths to remain calm as Vane heaves himself out the window. He yelps as his arm catches the thorns of the pyracantha. I roll my eyes.
“My home is this way,” I say, dashing across the open lawn. It’s the only part of the yard where the moonlight’s bright enough for us to be seen, so we have to move quickly until we reach the towering date palms of the grove that borders the house on all sides.
A soft Southerly revives me as I run. Caressing my face. Drying the last of my tears. The wind can’t lighten the extra weight I carry from the water, but it eases my headache. Vane matches my pace stride for stride. Whether that means he’s stronger than I thought or I’m weaker than I feared, I can’t tell.
Deeper and deeper we head into the trees. The air is sweet with the aroma of their sticky fruit, and I can feel fallen dates squishing between my bare toes. At least, I hope they’re dates. The night is anything but silent, and all manner of giant insects chirp and skitter around us. This place is infested—not the kind of location I would’ve chosen for a home. But my options were limited.
A few minutes more and the pale walls of my shelter come into view.
Vane snorts. “Unbelievable.”
“What?”