by Lyn Forester
Connor groans. “I’m going to stink, aren’t I?”
Leaning forward, I pat his hand. “I’ll love you despite your repugnance.”
His head rolls toward me, a smile on his lips. “Repugnance. Nice.”
I poke him in the side. “Aren’t you a science nerd?”
“Hey, I appreciate a good vocabulary when I hear it.” He catches my hands and brings it to his lips. “Your brain is so attractive.
“That’s good. It gives me something to fall back on when I’m old and wrinkly.” As Bastian hands me the jar of salve, I murmur, “Thank you.”
“I don’t know.” Connor tilts his head, then winces and straightens once more. “I’ve seen the Lonette Matriarch. She’s still pretty attractive.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” I uncap the salve and scoop some of the pungent goo out on my finger. “You got a thing for my grandma?”
He eyes me warily. “I don’t think there’s a good enough answer to get me out of this trap.”
“Good to see the wall didn’t knock out all your senses.” Gently, I smear the goop over the bruise and scratches on his cheek, check to make sure he doesn’t have more wounds hidden in his hairline, then swipe what’s left on my finger across his upper lip.
He flinches back, gagging. “Oh, god, it smells so bad!”
Myrrine laughs, a sweet, tinkling sound, and even Bastian lets out a chuff of amusement before forcing his bodyguard mask back into place.
I lift my chin. “Serves you right for ogling my grandma.”
“Ugh!” Connor wipes his lip with the blanket, then stares at it in horror. “Please tell me there’s another blanket.”
Bastian walks to the dresser at the foot of the bed and pulls open the large, bottom drawer that stores spare linens. A moment later, it closes and he straightens with a shake of his head.
Connor turns to stare at Nikola’s bed. “Quick, swap before he gets back.”
“Before who gets back?” Nikola strides into the room, now dressed in only a robe from the bathrooms.
His dark eyes sweep over the room before landing on me.
Myrrine lets out a chirp of distress, her hand lifting to her nose. “I will return to our room now, Caitlyn. Connor, do not die. Nikola... Do not neglect our term paper.”
She turns to flee the room, Bastian close behind, while Nikola and Connor stare after her in confusion.
The jar still in my hand, I rise to follow and catch them at the door. I hold the medicine out to her, its contents woefully low after all the times we’ve used it. “Myrrine, your salve.”
“Keep it.” Her voice comes out muffled through her fingers. “I will message Camille and request he bring another with him.”
“I’m sorry we’ve used so much of it.” I hold the precious gift against my chest. “I know you said it’s rare.”
“Yes.” She nods. “The flower it’s made from takes twenty years to bloom.”
My grip goes lax, and I fumble the jar, barely catching it before it slips from my fingers.
Unaware of my reaction, her eyes skip past me and narrow. “He lacks everything that should make him appealing. Where are the voluptuous breasts? Where is the gentle curve of waist? He is not even halion.”
“Then stop looking, my lady,” Bastian rumbles and herds her out the door.
Clutching the jar, I turn to see what she was talking about. Nikola stands at his dresser in only his boxers, the robe cast aside. He holds a pair of slacks with a white button-up tossed over his shoulder. The last time I saw him like this, he’d been covered in bruises, but now every hard line of his body is smooth, sculpted perfection.
He glances over at me. “Everything okay with Myrrine?”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth for a moment before I spit out. “You don’t have voluptuous breasts.”
He turns to face me fully, one black brow lifting. “No, obviously not. And thank goodness. Otherwise, I think your roommate would have jumped me by now.”
“She already tried to jump Caitlyn!” Connor announces as he abandons his stinky bed and sneaks across the room to steal Nikola’s.
I frown at him as he snuggles in. “She was confused.”
He snorts. “Please, she’s been chasing you since you arrived.”
“She thinks I smell nice.” I glance back at Nikola. “She thinks you smell nice, too.”
He leans a hip against his dresser, making no move to clothe himself. “I gathered.”
Blood warms my cheeks. “She says you smell even better when you’re around me. Which is probably why she suddenly left.”
“Oh?” He straightens with interest, then steps toward me. “What do you think?”
I back up a step, warmth suffusing my entire body now. “I’m not halion. I don’t have her sense of smell.”
He stalks closer, blocking me in the small entry. “What does it mean to a halion if I smell stronger when I’m around you?”
Defiant, I lift my chin. “I think you already know that answer.”
He leans in, daring my show of defiance. “Did she say whether your scent increases when I’m near?”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry as the heat of his body crosses the space between us, bringing with it a clean, spicy scent that invades my senses. I drag in a shaky breath, and it slips past my lips and over my tongue. It seems to wrap around me, touching me even as Nikola holds himself at a distance.
My eyes drop to his smooth chest, flat and firm, his nipples small and dusky. His abdomen ripples, revealing a hard groove down the center and the hint of a six-pack. His shadowed navel forms a soft dip, inviting exploration, and his boxers hang low to reveal the V of muscle on his sides. I follow the curves toward his groin, where just the hint of dark hair peeks out of his waistband.
I lick my lips, unable to tear my eyes away.
A hand slips along my neck, into the collar of my robe to find my racing pulse. Nikola leans in, his voice a low growl against my cheek. “I was taught self-restraint, but if you keep looking at me like that, I won’t hold back.”
“I’d like you to hold back,” Connor calls, his voice weak. “At least while I’m here?”
Nikola curses under his breath and pushes away from me. “I want to go back to not sharing my room with everyone.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my heart still thundering. “I didn’t want to take him back to my room.”
“Myrrine walks around naked,” Connor volunteers.
“Did healing your bruise remove your filter, too?” I demand as I brush past Nikola into the room.
Connor blinks at me with wide eyes and pulls the blanket up to his chin. “Where’s my sweet caretaker? This isn’t what I was promised at all.”
Sighing, I walk over and tip his chin to get a look at his cheek. “The bruise is gone, but the skin is still a little pink in the middle.”
Nikola joins me, his arm brushing against mine as he leans down to look. “Maybe it doesn’t have as much effect on actual tears in the skin?”
I nod. “Possibly. I’ve only seen it used on welts and bruises before.”
Connor eyes Nikola. “If someone was going to walk around naked anyway, I might have preferred—”
He cuts off, eyes darting to me.
“Finish that sentence.” My hand tightens around the jar I hold. “Who would you prefer to see walking around naked?”
“Only you,” Connor breathes, fear in his eyes. “Absolutely no one else.”
“Good save.” Nikola straightens, then sits on the edge of the bed to pull his pants on. “Totally believed it.”
Connor glares at him. “I’m not on your side anymore.”
Unfazed, Nikola stands and shrugs into his shirt. “You sound more like your brother when you’re injured.”
He reaches for the buttons, then switches direction to pull Connor’s school band off his wrist and tosses it on the comforter.
Connor grabs it and quickly slips it on. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Connor lifts a hand to his nose. “Please stop doing that.”
Ignoring him, I tip the jar back and forth. “Myrrine said this is made from a flower that takes twenty years to bloom. How many flowers do you think exist like that on this planet?”
Curious, Nikola bends over my shoulder, his front to my back as he stares into the jar. “You did say that Mortium can be used both to heal and kill.”
I lift the jar to my nose and gag. “But anyone who smelled like this would stand out.”
Nikola straightens. “Maybe the one that kills doesn’t stink.”
“That’s just cruel of nature.” Connor takes the cap from me and slaps it back onto the jar. “A question for the botanist once we track him down.”
Nodding, I set the salve on Nikola’s desk and grab the protein shake. Popping the straw into the top, I press it to Connor’s lips. “Try to drink some, then it’s time to rest.”
As Connor dutifully sips, Nikola draws me to my feet. “Are you sure you want to stay here? I can watch over him.”
I shake my head. “The school still hasn’t given you supplies. I’m worried they’re holding off in case they find a reason to kick you out.”
He studies my face. “Or they’re waiting to see if you kick me out.”
“I won’t.” I risk touching his arm, my fingertips burning at the contact. “I’ll message the Dean to see what the holdup is and make sure she knows you’re staying.”
Bold, he catches my hand and brings it to his lips. “Thank you.”
Tingles race up my skin, and I look away from the intensity of his gaze. “I should have done it earlier. Everything’s just been so...”
“Hectic,” he supplies, releasing me before I pull away. “And maybe wait a little longer. Not having a digital babysitter is convenient for now. It allows me to move more freely.”
“It also limits where you can go alone.” I tug the sleeves of my robe down. “Did you find out anything about Trevor? Was he kicked out?”
The slob already had two reprimands for an inability to keep his living quarters sanitary. Did the staff in charge of returning our laundry report him in Declan’s absence?
Nikola shakes his head. “Only speculation. No one knows for sure. But I’ll find out.”
I meet his eyes. “Using your secret web of informants?”
He nods slowly. “If need be, though I’m sure someone in the school will have the story soon enough. Gossip runs fast in places like this. It’s just a matter of picking out what’s real from the rumors.”
Yes, with such limited access to the outside world, rumors will run rampant. This is the most excitement the school’s seen since the announcement that Mr. Black had died. No one likes Trevor and speculation will build fast. Before the day is over, there will be hundreds of stories about why he was escorted from the dorms.
Trevor hasn’t made a good show so far during his time with APA. He’s friendless and a crybaby who drags the overall class average down. I’m sure Declan ridiculing him during class our first day didn’t help, but Trevor seems like someone destined to be alone at APA.
Worry for Felix seeps in. He’s alone right now. What if someone catches him sneaking across the sky bridges? We won’t know anything’s wrong until he doesn’t return on time.
“Did we lock the doors at the theater?” My brows pinch together, but I can’t remember. I’d been too worried about Connor at the time.
“No, but the code changes daily and they auto-lock when they reset at Quarter-Light.” He glances to Connor, then back to me. “Another reason I should be the one to stay behind.”
“Or a reason for you to teach me how to use that device.” I gesture to his desk where we keep our contraband. “I need to learn sometime, and we have a lock right here to practice on.”
He frowns. “I don’t like you tackling that second lock alone.”
I risk another touch, his bicep hard beneath my hand. “I can take it. And if I can’t, then Felix will just have to wait for you to arrive. But at least let me attempt it.”
My breath catches while thoughts flicker across his face as he analyzes the situation from all angles. At last, he sighs. “Fine, but if you can’t get the one here in under three minutes, you’re going to class, and I’m staying behind.”
I thrust out my hand. “Deal.”
Inform & Request
“We’re lucky these doors have backup card readers, or we’d have to go back to the Entertainment Hall to practice this,” Nikola murmurs as he hands me the lock-picking device.
While he pulled it out of the desk, I changed into a pair of his pajamas. The pants sag around my hips, held in place only by the cord cinched tight at my waist. The bottoms cover my feet like slippers while his t-shirt balloons around me.
The device feels heavy and cold in my hands, awkward to hold as I eye the palm reader on the wall. “Is there a way to pick those?”
“There’s a number pad underneath the jell. If you know the code, you can get in regardless of your handprint. It’s possible to guess the code, but unlikely without knowing the person who set it.” He grasps my shoulders and turns me to face the door. “These locks are easier with the right equipment, which is why the technology is outdated. I’m surprised APA left them in place, but I assume the staff uses them to access our rooms while we’re out.”
“So the palm readers are just for show?” I glance back at him, then face forward once more, not ready for his nearness. “Our rooms aren’t really secure if they have the card readers.”
Amusement fills his voice. “Most students don’t come to school with lockpicks. I wouldn’t have gotten away with it if I’d arrived through normal channels.”
“I don’t know.” I fiddle with the device, then pull out the dummy card. “They didn’t check my carry-on bag. I could have walked right in with one of these, no problem.”
“But you didn’t come here the normal way, either,” he points out. “You arrived after everyone else. Had you come during orientation, your bag would have been taken from you, scanned, and the contraband removed before it was placed in your room.”
“Oh.” I forgot that Connor, Felix, Declan, and I came to APA a day after everyone else so we could receive the Dean’s personal welcome and all the veiled warnings that came with it.
Or rather, I put it out of my mind.
Cautious, I glance back at him once more. “You’re going to show me how this works before you time me, right?”
He smiles smugly. “Was that in our agreement?”
I purse my lips in displeasure. “You’re toying with me.”
“A little,” he admits. He reaches around me to press a button on the side of the device and the screen lights up. “But this lock really shouldn’t take you three minutes to learn.”
I finger the sharp edge of the card. “Why do you know how to do this?”
“Because I don’t like being confined.” A hard edge accompanies his words, a story not told, but before I can ask, he taps the screen. “These are frequencies. Once the card’s in the lock, you’ll feel a buzz of electricity. You adjust the bars on the screen until the frequencies match and the door unlocks. The more complicated the lock, the more bars are used. I’m going to hold onto you to feel what you’re feeling and step in if you need help.”
Sounds easy enough. As his hands cup my waist, I slip the card into the lock.
Instantly, my body picks up a low-level buzz, not uncomfortable, but not pleasant, either. It feels discordant, out of sync. I place a finger on the first line of light, moving it up experimentally, and the buzz increases until my teeth ache. Now I feel the fluctuation of more than one frequency, not just the singular one I first felt.
Ignoring the discomfort, I leave the first bar where I put it and move on to the second, shifting it until I feel its personal fluctuation. I do the same with the thir
d bar, and when nothing happens, I move back to the first.
Since all the way up was the wrong way to go, I slowly lower it, waiting for the discomfort to dissipate, then keep going until I feel a different kind of buzz at the base of my skull, like standing in a light-ring from a disc bike, only different, more tactile. Light-rings aren’t uncomfortable to stand in, and they feel more like a hum than a buzz. But it’s similar enough that it gives me an idea of what the frequencies should feel like if they’re aligned.
I move back to the second bar of light and adjust it until it syncs up with the first. My body hums with energy as the lock disengages.
Nikola reaches past me to hold the door closed. “Good job.”
Triumphant, I pull the card from the lock. The buzz cuts off to leave me light-headed, but I ignore it as I spin around to grin up at him. “How long did that take?”
He gives me a rueful smile. “Two minutes and forty-three seconds.”
I poke him in the chest with the device. “I believe that makes this my win. And you owe me a prize.”
Behind me, the lock clicks back into place, and he leans in closer, voice husky. “And what prize do you want?”
My heart trips. This could go so many different ways. Right now, I could ask for anything and Nikola would give it to me. I know it the same way I knew I had correctly matched the frequencies before the lock opened.
But I force my tone to stay light. “I believe you promised to bring me food, but you came back empty-handed. So, now I want toast with jam. And tea.”
His eyes narrow in speculation. “They don’t allow us to take food outside of the cafeteria.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Are you saying it’s impossible?”
“Hmm.” Slowly, he steps away from me. I follow him back into his room where he grabs his jacket out of the closet. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
As he strides past, I call, “I don’t want lint in my breakfast!”
Using the crust from my last piece of toast, I scrape around the small bowl to gather up the remaining jam as I stare at the folding-port on the desk in front of me. I figured I might as well make good use of my time away from class by digging through the footage Nikola acquired from the Director of Public Works.