Chapter 19 – The Library is Open #2
I smiled, shifting my palm to his thigh.
"I don't know about other humans, but I am," I admitted.
"Are abaya not?" I went to pull away, reluctant, but Araxis reached and caught my hand, holding it against his leg.
I could imagine the hum of a dozen cameras trained on us right now.
I could imagine the excitement in the conglomerate's command central.
"Inside of one's creche, we can be," he admitted. "It is unusual to touch those outside of one's creche. But… any would be hard pressed to deny the touch of a virra."
I wanted then, so badly, to kiss him. I wanted to crawl into his lap and press my mouth against his and breathe the same air he was breathing, as if that would allow us to get close enough that the cameras couldn't see what we were saying to one another, as if, by touching each other, we could create our own separate world – where no one else could reach us.
Could I go another day without kissing him?
Could I deal with – all of this? Spinning this story out while trying to manage Grigor Spade and all of the dangers he posed?
"It feels like I've known you for so much longer than six days," I said, hoarse. His thigh was hard beneath my palm, all muscle; I let my fingers tighten, indenting his taut skin through the soft fabric of his pants. I hoped he understood me. I hoped he could read between the lines.
"Yes," he murmured, voice soft, and he released my hand.
I had a moment to feel sorry for myself – it was going to be another night of staring at the ceiling, running my fingers along the length of the quill he'd given me – before he reached to touch to the curve of my jaw.
His fingers were cool against my feverish skin as he traced the planes of my face.
He angled his shoulders toward me, his other hand coming to curve around my neck, steady and certain.
I felt my body grow pliant under his touch, my face tilting towards his, my eyes half-lidded as I stared at him – pulse galloping along beneath the thin skin of my throat.
My lips parted; Araxis leaned toward me.
And then he shifted away, his hands falling to his lap as he flushed through silver and into pink. "Ah, my apologies," he said. "I am being presumptuous."
Was this part of the game? Did he know we were rushing ahead of our script, or – or did he feel as caught up in this as I did?
Well, fuck it. "Presume away," I said. And then, as a warning, "I'm certainly about to.
" In an instant, I reversed our positions, reaching to catch his face in my hands.
I rocked forward and slid my mouth against his – and suddenly everything was right in the world.
The whole universe snapped into alignment, gravity tilting on its axis, as if it was only by kissing him that I could understand what I'd been missing in the – fuck, it had only been a week since I'd kissed him last.
He made a soft, pleased sound deep in his throat, a contented rumble, pulling me closer, his palms sliding around my waist. Some faraway voice in my mind, which sounded suspiciously like Vivith, reminded me that even if we were ahead of schedule, we couldn't get too ahead of schedule.
We'd planned all of this to be plausible and play well to abayan audiences, so I knew I couldn't just go sticking my hands down Araxis's pants but –
I wanted to. And I wanted him to stay in my bed, and I wanted him to sleep next to me, and most of all I wanted to not be on fucking galactic broadcast any longer.
I didn't ever want to think about Grigor Spade again.
I didn't want to think that we were getting closer to the sands, day by day; I didn't want to grapple with all the violence and gore that was waiting for us.
"Sorry," I gasped as I pulled back, my lips tingling, skin humming. "I know – it's too much. I'm… eager, I guess."
Araxis's skin gleamed with that hidden iridescence, and he had to duck his head to hide his smile at that particular word.
He cleared his throat. "You're virra," he offered; his hands were still curved around my waist, applying a delicious, steady pressure.
"You do not need to apologize. You prefer kissing to killing. "
I laughed, delighted. "Yeah, but my timing is awful. You really should have talked to me at the den. Or I should have talked to you. Or – I don't know. Sorry. I'm making this complicated."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Sashen.
" Araxis slid one hand up my back, just a little, as if reminding himself of the shape of my body.
And then he let them drop away with a fluted sigh, pushing himself to his feet.
"It is complicated, but… perhaps we can speak more about it later. I don't mind complicated."
It was perfect; the pieces were all falling into place.
When he suggested an alliance, it would make sense now.
Araxis left a few minutes later, although he lingered at the door as I lost myself yet again in his eyes, leaning against the door frame as if I couldn't possibly support my own weight with my knees this weak.
"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" I asked.
Araxis seemed unable to look anywhere but at my lips. "Yes," he said. "In the training room?"
"I wonder…" I said, sucking on my lower lip, mostly just to watch the way his eyes traced the motion. "Yeah, let's start there. Then I have an idea."
Later that night, I worked on my second note while sitting on the floor of the hygiene room, hiding it inside of my right boot when I emerged so that I could pull it out when the time was right. I just hoped I wasn't about to fuck everything up.
"Get the fuck away from my stuff," snarled Grigor as I stood innocently at the edge of the hot training room, toeing the hem of his Grace Mining Initiative sweatshirt.
He'd left it in a messy crumpled heap while he'd been running fast laps.
I shifted my boot just a little so that the corner of the piece of paper I'd tucked into the pocket was hidden. Across the room, Araxis was still practicing his forms on his own across the room – my own effort had been half-assed that morning, as I’d been unable to think of much beyond the next step in my plan-shaped thing – but I saw him take notice of the spike in volume, head angling in my direction.
I turned to look at Grigor as he thundered toward me. "I was just looking at the logo," I protested, falling back half a step. Across the room, Araxis had gone perfectly still, left arm frozen with the blade snapped out, taut with tension. "I wondered –"
"What did you wonder?" he sneered, sweat dripping from his nose. "It certainly doesn't look like you've cleaned yourself up," his flinty stare dragged down my ears, to the slim cut of my clothes, "or closed your legs." He glanced, then, at Araxis, who had fallen into a ready stance.
I let my eyes go big and wide, aiming for something in the realm of doe-eyed, which I figured would piss him off even more. "You quoted Shepherd Barreth. Barreth oversaw my hall for awhile. Was he your ward Shepherd?"
Grigor glowered, jaw working.
"I just wondered," I continued, "if we came from the same ward. That's all. I haven't thought of him in awhile."
"That much is obvious. You could stand to do a lot more thinking about the Words of Wisdom. Although I don't know how much good they'll do you."
Yes, yes, I thought, I'm very corrupted and awful and beyond saving. Yawn.
"Am I right that the numbers are for the Book of Ascension, or have there been more Books added to the litany since I left? Some Shepherd is always writing something on Seraphim. They do love their bad poetry."
It was almost laughable, watching the colour flush up in his skin.
Taking in the sudden spike in his breathing.
Was this what it meant to be a virra? I knew how to turn people on; I knew how to get them to like me.
Apparently, I also knew how to piss them off beyond reason.
Was this ability to manipulate the thing that set me apart?
No wonder abaya wanted to believe virra were stupid. I felt – powerful.
For a second, he leaned forward as if he was going to reach for me, but then his stare flicked upwards, hard, to where a flock of cameras were drifting throughout the training rooms on an endless circuit.
"You'll shut your whore mouth, if you know what's good for you," ground out Grigor, stepping in closer and lowering his voice low as if the cameras couldn't pick it all up anyway.
"And you'd best keep the names of the holy off of your foul tongue. "
"Or…" I angled my head, studying him. "I'm going to be punished?
Don't threaten me with a good time. Maybe I'll see you around soon, and you can show me how you like to deal with boys who've been particularly wicked.
For now, I'm going to go occupy my filthy mouth on the roof with some company.
Why don't you think about that, Grigor. Maybe if you recite the verses extra hard, you won't get extra hard. "
I made myself wink and then I turned and walked to meet Araxis in the middle of the room while Grigor turned entirely new colours. Araxis's eyes were tight with worry, when I said, "Any chance you might take a walk with me? I'll meet you on the stairs at the end of your hall, alright?"
"I will change and then come to your room," said Araxis, catching my wrist as I turned to take off.
"And then we can go wherever you'd like.
" His face was serious, insistent, so I just smiled and nodded before I took off upstairs.
Grigor was back to trying to murder a punching bag, his sweatshirt still crumpled on the floor. Good.