Chapter 9 #2
With a thoughtful head tilt, Henri adds, “But his role is very different from the rest of ours. He doesn’t spend much time with mortals.”
This time, I let out a loud snort.
Henri shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand you.”
“Me?” I choke out.
“Mortals.”
Oh. Obviously he meant humans in general. Not me in particular. Because there’s no way Cary understands me. He’s never tried to.
And I don’t want him to.
Cary is simply a means to an end. He’s my way to finding London. Nothing more.
“Then,” I say, “him being an asshole is by choice?”
Henri drags my plate of pizza toward him. He picks off the pepperoni. “I told you—he’s complex. In many ways.”
“Like…?”
“You know, you could ask him all these things.”
I blow out a breath. “As if he’d tell me anything.”
As much as I need him to. What’s it gonna take for me to break through his walls?
Henri doesn’t offer me any answers.
“You’re right.” He takes a big bite of pizza. Chewing, he says, “Enough about that boring bookworm. Shall we discuss Milos?”
A suggestive smile flashes across his mouth. Another wave of heat burns my face.
“What about him?”
“Oh, please. I see how he looks at you.” Henri lifts an eyebrow. “And how you look at him. Interested?”
I stop myself before my eyes roll. Henri and Max would be great friends. They’re equally terrible at matchmaking.
But I play along. For my own reasons. “He’s interesting,” I say.
“That’s not an answer.”
Shit. It’s not. And by the way Henri’s watching me, I wasn’t very convincing either.
Thumbing my bracelet, I say, sincerely, “I’d like to get to know him better.”
It’s the truth. Milos could be my key to London. To giving me more time with him.
Henri takes another bite. “Is that so?”
I nod. “He invited me to his celebration ball.”
“And you’re coming, yes?” He drops the half-eaten slice. “You have to. And not just to keep me company. But mostly that.”
“How would I even get back? Can you take me?” I do my best to hide my urgency.
“No. I was serious about that. I can’t bring mortals across realms. Unless you’re dead.”
I shudder. “Then how will I get there?”
Deep dimples form around Henri’s wide grin. “I’m sure you already know how.”
Great. Just the answer I didn’t want: more waiting on Cary.
Henri dusts off his hands. “I need to go.”
After standing, he plucks a small black card from inside his blazer. He passes it to me. “Here. In case you ever need to reach me.”
I stare at the pearlized surface. When the light hits it, the card glitters. But there’s nothing on it.
No name, email, or phone number.
“It’s blank,” I tell him.
“Is it?” Casually, he slides his hands into his pockets. “When the time comes, I’m sure you’ll look a little deeper.”
He leaves the pizzeria without another word.
“How do I look?”
I lift my gaze from my phone screen. Max stands in my bedroom doorway. She’s wearing a tan blazer over a ribbed crop-top sweater, pleated navy skirt. Her hair’s down, pin-straight and brushing her collarbones. Silver threads of nightfall seep through my window onto her pink cheeks.
My eyebrows climb my forehead. “Wow.”
“I’m going for dean’s list scholar who’s not afraid to make out on the first date.” She curtsies, smirking.
“Mission accomplished! Who’s the lucky girl?”
Max frowns. “Lake.”
Right, Lake. The girl I’m supposed to know. Except, I don’t. I’ve tried retracing where we might’ve met—the pizzeria, the promenade, SBS campus—but my head’s such a mess, nothing clicks.
I smile for Max. “She won’t be able to resist you.”
“Obviously!”
A beat passes. Max lingers in my doorway. She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, ruining her lip gloss. There’s that look in her eyes. Concern verging on pity.
Hiding the irritation in my voice, I say, “What is it?”
“Who was that boy earlier?”
“What boy?”
She sighs. “At Catalina’s. The one you talked to on your break.”
Oh. Henri.
Almost every part of me wants to tell her. About Aides and the Deathless and my plan to find London. But I’m still afraid she won’t believe me. Or worse, she’ll try to stop me?
My fingers encircle my bracelet. “No one,” I say, even as guilt coils around my stomach. “Just someone I met. At that party on campus.”
“Are you interested in him?”
I snort. Henri’s stylish, vibrant in an uncontainable way. He’s also fun to talk to. But he’s not my type. Plus, he’s a god or something.
“Not even a little,” I say.
Max hums. It’s a noise that draws my gaze to the happy pucker of her lips. “So there’s still a chance for you and that Cary guy?”
I sit up, fast. Head spinning. “What? No.”
“But—”
“Max, stop!”
She flinches. I haven’t yelled at her like that since that day she wanted me to get ice cream. This time, I couldn’t help it. Something claws under my skin, desperate to burst free. I wait until it settles beneath the surface again.
Swallowing thick saliva, I whisper, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…I need more time.”
Max smiles dimly. “Okay.” She won’t make eye contact. Her gaze flits around my room. “We really need to get you some furniture.”
A quiet grin flexes the corners of my mouth. “Does that mean you’ll help me carry it upstairs?”
I think about the last time. All the complaining she did. How we went in without a plan of attack and immediately regretted it.
Max is obviously thinking about it too. She grimaces, then says, “Hell no. We’ll hire someone.”
“With what funds? My tips?”
“My tips,” she corrects me.
I let out a low laugh. It feels like we’re back to normal. Almost.
When Max’s phone vibrates, she checks the screen. “I’m gonna go.”
“Okay. Phone and location on at all times.”
Her smile slowly widens. “Answer every text. Pick up every call—you know, that thing you didn’t do last time.”
“I answered!” I squawk.
“And then abandoned me for a hot guy you won’t admit you like,” she half mumbles.
I toss a pair of balled-up smelly socks at her. She ducks. We hear Diana’s claws skittering on the floor as she chases the ball.
“Don’t break curfew,” I warn in a teasing voice.
“Whatever, Dad.”
Max hesitates, one foot out the doorway. A bridge of silence reaches between us. With an exhale, she says, “I’m here, Auggie. I know I’m not…” Her voice trails off.
But I don’t need her to fill in the gap.