by H G Lynch
A guy like that, who followed his gut and wasn’t afraid to get into a fight was exactly what we needed at the Academy. I hated that he was so perfect because it meant I had no choice but to Turn him when the time came. Damn him for being everything the Academy was looking for. Damn him twice for being everything that I was looking for.
Leo stared at me inscrutably for a long moment, and I tried to hold an appropriately frustrated expression, but I don’t think I managed it very convincingly. Arching a brow at me, Leo leaned back in his seat and put his book down on the counter. Steepling his fingers, he shook his head, closing his eyes briefly, as if he knew what I was thinking. I twitched uncomfortably, chewing my lip.
“Oh, Poppet,” he said sadly. “Not again. Tell me you don’t have feelings for this one, too. I know you’re still hurting over what happened with Nathan, but this isn’t the way to fix it. You can’t just transfer your feelings to another boy to make yourself feel better. Imagine what’ll happen if you—”
“It isn’t like that! Leo, please, please, don’t tell Lyle. This has nothing to do with Nathan, I swear. Anson’s different. But I can still do the job, I can. Just…come on, Leo. Don’t make me enforce the friendship law,” I begged, pulling out the big guns—puppy dog eyes and the pouty lip. I knew damn well Leo couldn’t argue with that look, so I suppose it was cheating, but I was desperate. If he told Lyle, I’d be sent back to the Academy, and the thought of being ripped away Anson so soon make my chest ache.
With a heavy sigh, Leo rolled his eyes. Kicking his heels off the countertop, he slid off his chair and came to put his hands on my shoulders, staring sincerely down at me with eyes the astounding colour of antifreeze. “Poppet, answer me one thing first. Are you absolutely certain this has nothing to do with Nathan?”
I didn’t want to hesitate, but I did. He was just staring at me so intently, as if he knew something I didn’t, like if I answered wrong, the world was going to come crashing down around me. I knew the answer. I knew that what I felt for Anson had nothing to with Nathan. Nathan had never made me feel the way Anson did. Sometimes, I wondered if what I’d felt for Nathan was even real. But I didn’t doubt my feelings for Anson because they were already strong enough that I was willing to risk my position at the Academy to have him, even if it meant I had to Turn him.
Leo was still waiting for my answer, so I raised my chin and met his eyes evenly. I nodded. “Yes. I’m sure. This is…different, Leo.” The fluttery feeling in my chest when I thought of the night ahead of me let me know I was telling the truth. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. I had fifteen minutes until I was supposed to meet Anson at the cinema. I should have already left if I was going to be there on time.
Leo just nodded and pecked me on the cheek. “Have fun tonight, Poppet,” he said, ruffling my hair.
I scowled at him.
He added quickly, “But not too much fun. Be careful.”
He touched my arm, and I felt a buzz like electricity run over my entire body. He was refreshing my Protections. Overprotective nut that he was. Still, I was grateful he cared, and I knew he wouldn’t tell Lyle about my, uh, indiscretions.
“Thanks, Leo. You’re the best,” I called as I made my way to the front door, grabbing my hoodie and boots and pulling them on. My nerves were jangling and it felt like I had carbonated water in my veins, all fizzy and sparkly. I haven’t been this excited since… Actually, I couldn’t remember the last time I was that excited. It was thrilling.
I had the door open and was just about to leave when I heard Leo call one last thing to me. “Oh, and Poppet? For God’s sake, use protection! We don’t want any little hybrids running around!”
“Oh my God, Leo!” I blushed profusely and slammed the door behind me as I stepped into the dimming evening sunlight. Leo was out of his mind. Maybe I was too, for considering for just half a second that Anson and I could ever have that kind of relationship in future. There won’t be a future, Poppy. Get over it. This is purely business. But, God, I wanted it to be more than that.
When I reached the cinema, the sun was turning the sky to a gorgeous golden colour, lighting the clouds in the distance in a flood of sweeping pink. It was beautiful, but not anything as beautiful as the sight that awaited me by the revolving glass door to the cinema.
Anson was standing there with his hands in his jeans pockets, the fading sun caressing him with golden fingers that lit streaks of molten amber in his hair. His face was tipped up to the sky, watching the clouds drifting lazily across the heavens. There was a scarf around his neck, streaming in the warm summer wind. He looked so distant and thoughtful, removed from the mundane world around him. I almost didn’t want to go over and break his concentration, but he must have felt me watching him because he turned to look directly at me. He broke into a smile that would have made my heart skip a beat if it had been beating.
I walked over to him, feeling suddenly shy and nervous all over again. People were milling about on the street, cars pulling up to pick up kids and then driving off quickly. Couples poured out of the cinema holding hands, smiling sweetly at each other. It was all so normal and so depressing because I knew I couldn’t have that. Not without breaking about a dozen Academy rules.
The cinema was housed in a tall, stone-faced building, and beyond the revolving doors, I could see lush red carpeting and matching walls and a small café with charming wooden tables and chairs. There was a bar where you could buy popcorn, sweets, and fizzy drinks. Beside that was the counter where you bought your tickets, each manned by young, bored looking people.
Anson grinned at me, adjusting his scarf and fidgeting with the ends of it. It made me think that maybe he was as nervous as I was. That made me feel better. I smiled at him, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. He swept a low, gentlemanly bow; possibly the most adorably charming thing I’d ever seen a guy do.
“Good evening, Poppy,” he said, holding out his hand.
Biting my lip, I put my hand in his, and he winked at me before lightly touching his lips to my knuckles. I swallowed a gasp as warmth speared me from my fingertips to my toes.
I stuttered ridiculously, “Um, h-hi.”
He grinned, but dropped my hand. The delightful warm tingles disappeared, and I suddenly felt cold.
We went into the cinema, and I was immersed in sudden warmth, the building being exceptionally cosy compared to the fifteen-degree temperature outside. The smell of salt and popcorn flooded my nose. I hadn’t been to a cinema since before I’d been turned, and I’d forgotten what it was like. Everything was so bright and welcoming with people milling about in the lobby and sipping coffee at the tiny café, and the distant sounds of movies playing behind the closed doors that lined the hallways. Huge movie posters hung from the walls and dangled from the high ceiling, actors’ faces blown up to a ridiculous size and titles printed in bold lettering.
There weren’t many people there, so there was only a short queue for the tickets. Once we’d bought our tickets, we found our way to Screen Four. When we reached our screen, Anson held the door for me and led me down the dark corridor. The massive screen reared up in front of us, glowing with previews, adverts, and a screen telling us to turn off our mobile phones. It was so loud it made my ears hurt, but at least it was dark.
We picked seats in the very back row, near the middle, which I was glad of because it meant we were just far enough from the speakers that I might not go deaf. Anson and I had the back row all to ourselves, which made me excited and anxious at once. Everyone knew what dates at the cinema were supposed to be like. I tried to think of other things, but it was a little hard with Anson sitting right next to me, smelling of citrus shampoo, warm blood, and healthy teenage boy.
I knotted my hands together in my lap while the previews reeled out, determined not to fall prey to the irrational longing inside me. This was business, nothing more. I’d been on a half dozen dates before for my job, and this was no different. I kept telling myself that, but if you’ve ever trie
d to lie to yourself, you’ll know how impossible it really is. There’s no use in even trying, but I had to, as much for Anson’s sake as my own.
Sometime during the movie, Anson and I ended up holding hands. I don’t exactly know how or when it had happened, but his long, slender fingers were laced through mine, and I had this strange, warm feeling in my chest that seemed to radiate to all my limbs.
Leaving the cinema, hand in hand, we stepped out into the chill of the night. The sun had descended below the surrounding buildings, leaving the street dimly lit by lampposts and the bright neon signs hanging above storefronts. The wind blew light strands of hair across Anson’s forehead. I grinned at him and reached up to brush his hair back carefully, my fingertips gliding across his forehead ever so lightly. A shock of something sweet and hot hit me in the chest, making my breath catch.
Anson’s eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, and I heard his heartbeat skip unsteadily at my touch. He raised his hand and gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist, drawing my palm down his face to his lips. Light as the flutter of a butterfly wing, he kissed my palm and each of my fingertips. It felt so thrilling, my whole hand ached to bury itself into his bright hair, and I was distinctly aware of how close we were standing. All I would have to do was lean up on my tiptoes and my mouth would meet his. His cobalt eyes fixed me in place, I couldn’t look away, though I knew I should. I wanted this so badly, but I couldn’t have it. If I kissed him, I was afraid I’d shatter into a million pieces, and only he would be able to put me back together.
Somewhere in the distance, birds sang their final goodnight tunes in the treetops and cars droned humbly along on the roads. The air smelled of popcorn, leaves, and car exhaust, and people chattered as they walked past us and around us. Overhead, slow clouds drifted comfortably across the blue sky, lit to an artificial grey-orange by the reflected light of the town. I could hear and smell and sense everything at once, and yet all I could see was Anson bending toward me, his hand rising to stroke my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
His heart was beating faster than usual, and the smell of longing poured out of his skin as strongly as the scent of his blood. I saw his lips move, forming a single, silent word: Poppy. And that was when I knew that I would kiss him, and it would be incredible. I didn’t care if I shattered into little pieces, if Lyle found out and sent me back to the Academy, or even if I lost my job as a Recruiter. I didn’t care about any of it because I didn’t want my job or Lyle’s respect nearly as much as I wanted that one kiss.
My eyelids fluttered closed, and I tilted my chin up, every part of me tingling with anticipation and excitement. I tasted Anson’s breath on my lips, cool and light, just a second before his lips met mine and warmth burst behind my breastbone like a volcano erupting inside me. The molten emotion gushed through my veins, turning my bones to rubber so that I could hardly stand.
I reached up and twined my arms behind his neck, pulling him closer, desperate for more. My lips parted almost without my command, a silent gift of permission before he needed to ask for it. His arms slid around me, one hand resting on my shoulder blades, burning my skin through the flimsy material of my t-shirt. My chest was pressed against his, our knees brushing, but I wanted to be closer still.
I felt Anson hesitate, and then he drew away, just far enough to lean his forehead against mine. His breath was still on my lips, quick and shuddering, and I could still taste his lips when I licked mine. I opened my eyes slowly to find him watching me, his pupils too wide even for the dimness of the street. In his chest, his heart was racing, beating out a frantic rhythm that I wished mine could match.
Reluctantly, I unlinked my hands from behind his neck, feeling his hair slide through my fingers like strands of silk. He took a measured step back, his arms unwinding from around me. I wanted so badly to know what he was thinking, wanted even more to beg him to kiss me again and not to let go.
I knew I couldn’t. I knew I’d just doomed this entire operation and myself to failure because I could not and would not Turn Anson and hand him over to the Academy. He was perfect as he was, and there was no chance I could betray him like that, not now. Not after that mind-blowing kiss. Somewhere in my chest, my heart had been ripped apart and put back together, all in an instant it had been reshaped so it could only accept Anson’s heartbeat.
I didn’t want the night to end, but sadly it came to a close outside the front door of my house. We weren’t supposed to ever let targets know where we were staying while we executed our operations, but I figured I’d already broken about a half dozen other rules anyway, so why not that one too? Plus, I just couldn’t say goodbye to Anson yet.
My hand was in his, my fingers perfectly slotted with his, as if they’d both been designed to fit together like puzzle pieces. If I let go, I was sure to lose the warmth inside me, and I didn’t want to let it go. I liked the unfamiliar feeling. Anson seemed to feel the same because, even as we stood at my front door, he kept hold of my hand as if I might disappear as soon as he let go of me.
The windows of the house were dark, but that didn’t mean anything. Lyle was probably still inside, and if he caught us, there’d be hell to pay for us both. Not wanting to get Anson into that kind of trouble, I forced my hand to separate from his. Without his fingers against mine, I felt cold, naked, and vulnerable.
Suddenly shy once again, I looked around the tiny garden in front of the house so that I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. If I met his gaze, I’d get swept away in the starry blue depths. The garden was almost as beautiful at night as it was during the day. Night blooming flowers ringed the edges. The white trumpets raised their faces to the moonless sky and the smell of jasmine scented the air.
“So,” Anson said slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. His scarf flapped lightly in the breeze like a ribbon. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” It sounded like a question, as if he really did think I might be gone by morning.
I smiled and nodded, brushing my hair out of my eyes. He smiled back. He hesitated before taking a step forward, and I thought he was going to kiss me again, right here on the porch where Lyle could see if he just looked out the window. The fear I felt at the idea was overwhelmed by the longing for it. Part of it was the thrill that we might get caught, the forbiddingness of it.
Then he lowered his gaze and reached for my hand instead, as if he just couldn’t help himself. Gently, he took my fingers in his hand and kissed them tenderly. The watery light from the streetlamp nearby slid over his red hair. A sweet shiver passed up my arm and toppled down my spine.
He stepped back and swept another low bow, grinning all the while. “Goodnight, Miss Poppy,” he said, raising his head to wink at me before turning on his heel and retreating to the street.
I stood on the porch with my hand on the door handle, watching until he was almost half-way down the street. He paused under a streetlamp and glanced over his shoulder. He wiggled his fingers at me in a cheeky wave, and then started walking away again, turning the corner at the end of the street so that I couldn’t see him anymore.
I finally opened the front door and slunk inside, wondering what was awaiting me. Would Lyle be able to read my feelings about Anson on my face? It felt as if they had to be shining through my skin like a candle flame flickering through glass.
When I got in, Leo was still reading his book, but he’d moved himself to the living room, where he was stretched out lazily on the sofa with one leg hooked over the back of it. Thankfully, Lyle was nowhere in sight, and I couldn’t sense anyone else in the house. It was just me and Leo.
I whacked Leo’s socked foot to make him move his leg and dropped onto the sofa next to him. He settled his leg across my lap as he stuck the bookmark in his book. Grinning, I pinched his toes, knowing he had tickly feet. He jerked his foot back and tried to bat me upside the head with his book, but I blocked the blow and stuck my tongue out at him childishly.
“How did your d
ate go?” he asked, setting his book on the floor with a sigh. He had the sleeves of his grey jumper pushed up, and I noticed it was very cosy in the house.
A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, its buttery crimson flames casting flickered shadows across the terracotta walls and pale wood flooring. I thought of the way Anson had kissed me, and smiled.
Leo chuckled, watching me through strands of his hair, a knowing look on his face. “Ah. That’s how your date went,” he answered his own question, snickering.
It took me a moment to figure out why he was laughing, and then I remembered the last thing he’d said to me as I’d left earlier. Heat flooded my face, and I slapped at his knee, embarrassed.
“It wasn’t like that! We didn’t…do anything. Jeez, Leo!”
With a grin, Leo sat up and patted me on the head condescendingly. I scowled at him, but he just slid off the sofa and went to the kitchen. I heard him turn the kettle on. Cups clinked as the kettle boiled, grumbling loudly as it puffed steam. I kicked off my boots and unzipped my hoodie, peeling it off and draping it over the back of the sofa.
Leo called through to me, “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Yes, please,” I replied, folding my hands behind my head while my thoughts spun around the same thing over and over: That kiss with Anson. That one, brilliant, amazing kiss. I replayed it in my head until I felt dizzy with it all over again. The feel of Anson’s cool lips on mine, his hand on my back, his chest hard against mine, the smell of his shampoo and his skin, and the mint of his breath on my tongue.
I was so far lost into my daydreaming that I jumped when Leo came back into the room and set my cup of tea down on the floor next to me. He raised his eyebrow at me as if he knew what I’d been thinking. Caught, I blushed and thanked him for the tea.
Settling delicately on the sofa next to me with his own cup of tea, Leo watched me over the rim of the mug as he sipped the hot liquid. His green eyes were sharp, and he noted, “You really like this one, don’t you? You’re smitten. It’s all over your face.”