The Shadow Reader

Page 45

“Midnight,” I tell him quickly. “It’s okay. Really.”
Only a pane of glass separates us from the humans inside, and Kyol knows how much I hate the fae causing scenes in my real life. If he fights Aren now, people will come running. But he doesn’t seem to hear my words. His gaze locks on the back of Aren’s head as he balls his left hand into a fist.
“Hey, McKenzie,” Paige calls out.
Kyol freezes. I slowly turn to see her standing at the top of the stairs.
“You doing all right out here?” she asks, her blue eyes darting between Aren and Kyol. She looks more curious than worried.
“Um, I’m great,” I say. Aren gives a short chuckle at my side.
Paige’s lips quirk up. “There’s a guy who wants to meet you, but if you already have two men fighting over you . . .”
“I’d love to meet him.” I try to pull away from Aren, but he won’t let go.
“She’s occupied,” he says. He’s angled toward me now, and even though he’s still looking in Paige’s direction, I’m sure he’s aware of the sword-master. He’s not going to change his mind on this.
I turn back to Kyol. “Midnight. Please?”
His gaze drops to my face, and a chaos luster bolts across his clenched jaw. I hold my breath, praying he’ll listen. He has no reason to trust Aren—I don’t have much of one either—but I think he’ll keep his word. If Kyol will just be patient . . .
“Midnight,” he says, his tone a clear warning. “I won’t let you out of my sight.”
I give him a weak smile as a thank-you, but Aren’s already pulling me up the stone steps. When we reach the top patio, I kick off my high heels. I’m tired of the damn things making me unsteady.
“Occupied, huh?” Paige asks, eyeing Aren’s arm around my waist and not even trying to hide her grin. “I’ll just tell Lee he’ll have to meet you another day.”
“I can meet him n—”
“Thank you,” Aren cuts me off. “She appreciates that.”
“No problem,” Paige says. I give her a glare but she just responds with a shrug. Honestly, sometimes I question her sanity. After all, she has to be a little crazy to have put up with my quirks for eight years.
Aren’s arm drops lower around my waist as he leads me inside the ballroom. I can’t see Kyol, but I know he’s watching.
“You’re being an ass,” I say.
Aren’s single-shouldered shrug is full of fake innocence. “We had a deal. I’m honoring it.”
Fuming, I grab a flute of champagne off a passing waitress’s tray and down it while everyone else is still clinking glasses to Drunk Guy’s toast. The music starts up again when I set the glass aside.
“Dance with me, nalkin-shom,” Aren says, leading me toward the dance floor.
“That’s hardly appropriate.”
Predictably, he ignores me, and I find myself pressed close to him, surrounded by humans in the middle of an immaculate ballroom. Aren holds me close and mimics the movements of the people around us. I’ve seen fae dance before. They don’t do it like this, swaying back and forth with no space between their bodies.
“This is ridiculous, Aren. I’m not Cinderella at a ball. And this . . . this isn’t going to win my support, not even my sympathy. I won’t—”
He places a finger over my lips. “I forget my responsibilities when I’m with you. It’s nice. Peaceful.” His hand slides behind my neck, beneath my hair. He plays with the clasp of my necklace. “I wish you’d let yourself forget things when you’re with me. You’d be happier.”
My heart thumps. I bite my lower lip, trying to erase the tingle the touch of his finger caused. I can’t do anything about the lightning shooting down my spine, not unless I want to squirm and draw attention.
I swallow and scan the ballroom, looking for a clock. I find one high up on the nearest wall. It’s huge and ornate with a frame of gilded roses. Its gold minute hand is only a few ticks away from midnight, thank God. I can’t last much longer. Kyol can’t either. He’s standing there beneath the clock. I can see the battle inside him, his struggle to balance my request for patience with his desire to get me away from Aren. Aren’s roving hands are making this so much worse than it needs to be.
“ Are you trying to piss him off?”
He follows my line of sight. “He doesn’t like me touching you, does he?”
“I don’t like you touching me.”
“I don’t believe that.” He smiles and, damn it, I flush with heat. The hand he splays against my bare back burns pleasantly and my knees seem to be weakening. My arms are wrapped around Aren’s shoulders. We’re too close. I should shove away.
“I’m curious, McKenzie. What will you do when you learn Naito’s not fine? When you learn your precious sword-master killed him?”
“Naito is fine.” My voice isn’t as strong as it should be. That’s not because I doubt my words; it’s because Aren’s chaos lusters are intoxicating.
His thumb traces the line of my jaw. “I’m sorry, nalkin-shom .”
I don’t ask him why. I look away, staring at the clock on the wall because his silver eyes are too intense, his touch too intimate.
The minute hand snaps to twelve.
“Midnight,” I say softly. I half expect to hear a deep gong toll the hour, signifying this moment.
Aren follows my gaze to the clock and then to Kyol, who stands beneath it, silent and ready. When the sword-master takes the first step toward us, Aren puts his hands on my shoulders, turns me to face him.
“McKenzie, listen. Don’t let Taltrayn know you’ve learned our language. Think about what you hear. Look for the lies. The rebellion, we’re not who they’ve made us out to be. You know us.” His hands tighten on my shoulders. “You know me.
“Your necklace.” He lets his thumb glide over the string of diamonds. “These stones, they have some of the same . . . ekissrin.” He glances to his right, undoubtedly seeing Kyol is halfway to us now. “There’s not a word for it in your language, but they’re similar, diamonds and anchor-stones. They can both be imprinted. This one.” He touches the largest diamond, the one in the center of my chest. “This one will take you to a safe place.”
“ Aren—”
“I’ll be there every sunset I can. If you can’t come yourself, send somebody else. Not someone you think you can trust. Someone poor. Someone who can be paid off.”
Aren’s crazy to talk like this, to leave me with this imprinted necklace. Kyol’s only a few steps away and—
“Tell the fae a location outside the silver walls and I’ll come for you.”
My stomach knots. “I won’t—”
“I’ll come for you, McKenzie.”
His kiss takes me by surprise. I’m aware only for a moment of Kyol’s steps faltering, aware of him watching me, watching us. Then lightning pours from Aren’s lips and there’s only us.
My only defense is that the edarratae make me lose my discretion because I kiss Aren back. Really kiss him back. Chaos lusters tickle down my face and throat, bolt across my shoulders and down my arms. They shudder through my entire body, and I lean into him, press my chest against his.