When In His Eyes
WHEN IN HIS EYES
After showing Olline the garden, and having that marvelously backfire, he had modified his plan and steeled his heart accordingly.
Casimir’s problem was how ridiculously cute Olline was when she got animated over something. How her smattering of freckles darkened each time she got excited, the rosy tones to her bronze-kissed skin deepening with her obvious enthusiasm. She practically radiated light and warmth, and he could not handle it. He had then panicked and blurted out more about Antal’s political machinations than he had planned—or was ready—to reveal. Hence the modifications to his initial plan.
Yet, there he was in the Government Plaza the very next day, closing the literal distance between them once more. What he was doing now was reckless, perilous, and plain stupid. He knew that. Yet if Casimir could spare Olline, he would. He still had that much of his soul left, and it was worth clinging to, even if it got him killed.
His one consolation was that Etzel was not currently in the building. The seersha was at a weeklong conference about deregulating biomagitech, or something. Casimir didn’t care as long as it meant Etzel wasn’t nearby. While the distance between him and his boss was a help, he knew that if Etzel wanted to find him, no amount of distance would matter.
Casimir had needed to make sure Olline was safe where she was, ensconced within enemy territory. He kept his presence hidden behind his biotech visor so he could slip by undetected until he got to the hidden service hallways meant for the robotic staff. From there he could get anywhere in the building the old-fashioned way: by walking.
Which was usually a pain in the ass, but he found he didn’t mind. Not when images of Olline’s utter delight at seeing stars filtered through his mind. She was so open about her joy that it made her even more adorable each time he saw her.
He had to constantly remind himself that the stars were fake, that her delight was over something false and he, therefore, shouldn’t take pleasure in it, either. He wished the dullness that settled heavily in his chest was the familiar numbness he usually embraced, but this felt . . . different.
In the privacy of the service corridors, Casimir let his shoulders sag, his feet drag, and the fatigue of the pretense take over. If Etzel didn’t kill him, his plan to secure his freedom may very well do the trick.
Under normal circumstances, that alone would have been enough to get Casimir to turn around and get the fuck out of there. But Olline Tavos was a decidedly not normal circumstance. She was the spark in the dark, drawing him deeper and deeper into places he never thought to venture again. So, he had trudged through the service hallway tucked behind her shitty little office and scoured the space for what he knew was there: the surveillance chip that had led him to her.
Casimir may not be a savant with technology the way Olline was, but he had picked up enough over the past century to get the job done. Besides, he didn’t need to be clever in order to be efficient. But no sooner had he identified the chip, then he picked up a signal.
His muscles clenched, terror like frozen nitrogen rooting him in place. For a heartbeat, he thought . . . no, best not think of it.
But the signal hadn’t been about him at all. Which he would have preferred once he realized that what he found meant Olline was in trouble. Because of course she was. The woman was brilliant, but she was as subtle as a grease fire.
He hated that he didn’t hate that about her.
He crushed the chip beneath his heel, told the persistent fatigue to politely fuck off, and darted out of the service corridor as fast as he could while remaining stealthy.
That had been the easy part. Even lying to her after he had gotten her to abandon what she was doing had been easy. He had gotten good at lying over the years. It was second nature to him now.
The complicated part was the guard who had shown up with his pesky gun.
Casimir knew he would have to kill the man and disable the bot before they could haul Olline and him away. The killing wasn’t what bothered him. Killing was easy now, and after so long, he was numb to it. One cannot be part of Etzel’s menagerie without learning to disassociate. Casimir had been slower than some to learn that trick, but now? It was as easy and second nature to him as lying. Funny how deciding murder was the best option came to him so quickly these past decades. What bothered him was how much he looked forward to dismantling this puffed-up security guard and his bot for scaring Olline in the first place.
Casimir had nothing but his mechanized stiletto with him, as always. Guns were loud and terribly inelegant, but he wished he carried one now. He did rapid calculations of what to do first, where to strike to bring the man and bot down, and how to move in order to shield Olline from getting wounded. That was an extra complication, one he wouldn’t have even considered before. Yet the mere idea of that precious caster getting even a scrape made his hands flex, ready to strangle anyone who dared lay a finger on her sweet, cheerful face.
Casimir had just figured out the best way to get them out of danger when Olline began to speak so rapidly, he couldn’t follow any of it. Except the intern part. That was absurd, but it worked so, bravo Olline. She hadn’t even used a lick of her power. If Casimir had her magic, he didn’t think he would ever not use it against people who threatened him. That was another difference between them. Olline was objectively a good person, and he was, well, not. Not anymore. There had been a time when Casimir despised so-called good people, kind people. Those people had never bothered to be good or kind to him in the past. But Olline . . . her goodness had his insides going soft and warm at the absolute worst times.
Here he was, agonizing over how he was going to get them out of there, how he would explain the murder and hope that maybe it wouldn’t be too traumatic for her, and instead she was smoothly getting them both out of peril with that delightful mouth of hers.
Which was another problem. Because now he was thinking about other uses for that sweet mouth.
Stick to the plan.
Being angry with her didn’t help him stick to the plan as much as he had hoped. Her help had nearly cost him everything. Had she been anyone else, he would have killed her for that. The realization chilled him, because she wasn’t anyone else. She was painfully easy to forgive, just as she was easy to flirt with. Her blushes were a balm to everything and Casimir found himself wanting to get her to blush and smile at every chance he got. He wished she weren’t so fun to tease. It would have made it easier to stick to said strategy.
When Olline decided that the best place for them to go would be back to her apartment, he wished she were wrong. He wished he could maintain enough distance that he wasn’t at risk of failing at his own fucking plan . . . Funny, Casimir had stopped wishing for things a long time ago, and a few days with Olline had changed all of that.
Oh, this was bad .
Despite still being slightly pissed that she almost compromised his very existence, Casimir trailed behind Olline. Helpless to do anything else, even if he had wished to.