“It doesn’t make me stronger,” Ian replied in a low voice. “It just makes me sadder.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Then again, I supposed we were both pretty sad, caught in the bad choices our loved ones had made, and struggling to make things right, even though we weren’t the ones who’d caused the pain and problems in the first place. Still, I liked sitting here and talking with Ian. Much more than I’d thought I would. I’d brought him up here to clear his head and heart, but he’d helped me clear mine as well.
Ian leaned down and picked a stray wildflower that had somehow managed to bloom in a group of rocks. In the time we’d been sitting here, a pale frost had coated the ground all around us, making everything look encased in ice, including the flower. Still, despite the icy sheen, the delicate white petals gleamed and curled up, protecting a smaller, dark green, heart-shaped blossom in the center of the flower, which glimmered almost like an emerald.
“That’s a winterbloom,” I said, seeing his puzzled look. “They only blossom when the ground is covered with frost or snow. I think they’re some of the prettiest flowers up here.”
Ian studied the wildflower. “Me too. The heart in the center reminds me of your locket. Here. You should have it, Rory.”
He grinned and held the flower out to me. My breath caught in my throat. No one had ever given me a flower before. At least, no one like Ian.
He frowned, as if realizing what he’d done. I thought he might take back his words, make a joke, and toss the flower away. But then he pressed his lips together and looked at me, his gaze steady on mine. I stared into Ian’s eyes and reached for the winterbloom—
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
His phone buzzed, startling us both and breaking the spell.
Ian lowered the flower down to his side, pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, and stared at the message on the screen. “Takeda wants to know where we are. He says it’s hours past curfew.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s the one who recruited us to be supersecret spies. And now he’s talking about curfew? Kind of ironic, don’t you think? That we’re old enough to fight Reapers and chimeras but not old enough to know when to go to bed?”
Ian grinned. “Yeah. But you were right before. Takeda would never admit it, but he’s hurting over Drake just as much as I am. This is him trying to make peace and watching out for me. I’ll tell him we’re on our way back to the academy.”
Ian texted Takeda, and I let out a soft whistle and waved my hand, summoning the still-grazing gryphons back to our sides. I started to climb onto Balder’s back, but Ian reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Thank you,” he said. “For bringing me up here. For listening. It was really nice of you, especially given how awful I was to you before.”
I smiled and squeezed his hand back. “You’re welcome.”
He stared at me, and I found myself swaying closer to him and falling, falling, falling into his stormy gray eyes…
Ian cleared his throat, dropped my hand, and stepped back. I curled my fingers into a fist, trying to capture the warmth of his skin against mine, but the sensation quickly faded away, although not the light, dizzy feeling in my heart.
I turned away from him and climbed on top of Balder’s back. Ian settled himself behind me, his hands gently curving around my waist. When I was sure he was ready, I scratched the gryphon’s head.
“And away we go,” I whispered.
A second later, we were airborne and flying back to the academy, but all I could think about was the feel of Ian’s body against mine, his warm breath kissing the back of my neck, and how the touch of his hands made my heart soar even higher and faster than the gryphons were flying.
Chapter Nineteen
The gryphons flew us back to the library roof.
I scratched their heads again and thanked them for the ride, and then Balder and Brono sailed up, up, up, and away into the night sky. It was late, and we had classes in a few hours, so Ian and I went our separate ways for the rest of the night. He headed to his dorm, while I walked home to the cottage.
Aunt Rachel was already in bed, but she’d left me a note on the kitchen table saying that a lasagna was warming in the oven. My stomach rumbled, reminding me how long it had been since I’d eaten. So I used some oven mitts to grab the lasagna and dished myself up a generous serving, along with a couple of garlic breadsticks and a garden salad with homemade Italian dressing.
Everything Aunt Rachel cooked was wonderful, and the lasagna was no exception. Layers of pasta sheets, melted mozzarella, rich tomato sauce, and crumbled bits of spicy Italian sausage. The breadsticks had just the right amount of tangy garlic butter slathered on them, while the salad was full of crisp, crunchy vegetables. Best of all, Aunt Rachel had made dark-chocolate fudge with dried cherries for dessert. The rich, decadent treat was the perfect way to finish off my meal.
By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen and taken a shower, it was after two in the morning, and I was more than ready to go to sleep. I crawled into bed and started to pull the covers up to my chin, but my charm bracelet snagged on the sheets, and I had to stop and work it free.
The moonlight streaming in through my bedroom window made the delicate links gleam like a ring of snow around my wrist, with the locket glimmering like an icy heart in the center of the chain. My fingers stroked over the locket, but for the first time since I had thrown it down on my parents’ graves, the sight of the silver charm didn’t fill me with anger.
Ian was right. At least my mom and dad had tried to leave the Reapers. I might never know the answers to my questions about my parents, but in the end, they had wanted out of the evil group. That had to count for something. That did count for something. Even if I had been too angry, upset, and stubborn to realize it until tonight.
Still thinking of my parents, I put my head down on my pillow, curled my fingers around the heart locket, and drifted off to sleep.
*
My alarm went off way too early, given how late I’d gone to bed, but I got up, got dressed, and trudged to my classes. And just like usual, none of the other kids talked to me as I walked across the quad. They were all too busy gossiping about Lance’s party last night.
“It was great!”
“I had, like, so much fun!”
“Yeah, it was terrific! Except for the part where I puked my guts out.”
And the conversations went on and on, although another concern quickly crept into the gossip.
“Hey, where’s Lance?”
“I haven’t seen him this morning.”
“Do you think the Protectorate arrested him because we brought a keg to his party?”