Chapter 6 #2
Meanwhile, descendants like Harper don’t even have powers.
Her descendancy runs strong enough that she probably experiences side effects, like always being restless, or I know some Foxes hallucinate when they’re emotional.
I don’t know what specifically landed Harper in the Academy, but I know Niko recruited her from a school science lab visit.
As far as I know, her magic has never been powerful, just annoying.
It must’ve been enough to convince the Academy to take her in, at Niko’s recommendation.
All the tiny threads of our descendancy tangle with our ability to function, and the Academy accommodates us in a capacity no other school can or will.
It’s hard to take measured breaths by the time we’ve sprinted down seven flights of stairs, and I grab Harper when she stumbles.
‘Careful, genius. No one likes the valedictorian.’
‘No one liked you either, Miss Guaikia.’
It takes me a second to rack my brain. Spending most of my life homeschooled means I was never around the general Singaporean population enough to fully pick up on slang, but I manage to find it buried somewhere in my head, and I scoff. Miss Good Kid.
She says it like an insult, obviously.
Harper tugs her hand out of mine. ‘Okay, congratulations to us for getting out of there. That’s probably our first successful task as lab partners. Now, let me do my thing and I’ll let you do yours, and we both keep our escapades a secret. Deal?’
There was a tip last week that there might be Fox activity this afternoon, and it’s supposed to be in an estate not far from here.
I wasn’t assigned to check it out because of the conference, but I’m free now.
And if I get there early and stake it out for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll save Niko and Kiran the work.
I send a quick text to them to let them know I’ll handle it, and pocket my phone. ‘Fine with me.’
Harper dips into a quick, sarcastic bow, before we both walk out of the university gates in the same direction.
I stop. ‘Where are you going, exactly?’ Thunder rumbles overhead, clouds thronging the sky with foreboding.
Harper’s gaze flicks up to the sky, then back to me. ‘None of your business.’ She continues down the salt-white pavements, leaving me to glare at the retreating graphic of some internet joke on her back.
Honestly, I can’t blame Harper for growing up mean – Foxes suffer some of the worst rep as descendants, and she would’ve been bullied at school if she hadn’t been such a big asshole. Even then, she spent breaks alone and was excluded from class parties.
Still, it’s annoying. As an only child, I know loneliness carries a physical ache, but sometimes it feels like Harper seeks the edge of that pain and walks along it like a masochist.
Like now. ‘Wait up!’ My longer strides catch up with ease. A fat droplet of rain hits my wrist, then another on my cheek. There’s always an emergency umbrella in my bag, but that’s still at the university. Crap.
By the time we reach a crossing, a smattering drizzle hounds our heels, promising more to come.
Harper wrinkles her face at the sky and stuffs her hands into her pockets. ‘I know we had a teamwork moment, but right now I really don’t need your company.’
‘Well.’ I blink rainwater out of my eyes to make out a street sign.
We’re barely a street away from the rumoured Fox activity.
Even if Harper’s a Fox, she’s not associated with the criminal side, and there’s no telling how risky it may be to have Harper so close to a potential fight.
It’s best if I stick close. ‘Let’s say I need yours.
We don’t get along, but don’t we have the same goal this year?
We just want to do well in the internship. ’
The look I receive in response is unimpressed at its kindest, withering at its worst. Harper starts off across the street before the green man comes on, leaving me to do an impatient jig at the red light until I’m clear to go. ‘You have a suggestion, or something?’
‘Just . . .’ I shrug. ‘Let’s not step on each other’s toes. I know you like picking fights.’ Harper scoffs, but I barrel on, ‘And you’re prone to being mean all the time, but we want the same thing. We can do this.’
‘Fine. Whatever. That was a very naive, gung-ho speech, but I’ll take it.’ Harper glances over her shoulder. The rain surges into a flashing downpour, and she grimaces as the deluge drowns us both immediately. ‘What business do you even have?’
I hold my hands over my head in a poor attempt at shelter and sprint after Harper. The wind is gentle, but rain begins to soak my blouse, leaving the breeze to chill my skin frigid. ‘Sentinel thing. Classified. You?’
We hurry around the corner into a street flanked by semi-detached houses, still no shelter in sight.
‘Personal thing. Classified.’ Harper’s tone is biting.
When I glance over, she looks like a furious wet fox, her irritated gaze lingering on the sky, her fingers tucked in her elbows.
Dark strands of her hair escape her tiny ponytail and cling to her cheeks, curling over the nape of her neck, stark against her skin.
Right. I drop the topic – it’s a struggle to get words through the pattering drone – and scope out the road mentioned in the tip-off. Harper follows my gaze, seeming to perform the same appraisal. ‘What are you looking at?’
Before I can respond, two men exit a house. Their shoulders are hunched against the rain, their footsteps quiet as they walk almost in sync. They’re far off enough into the distance that they haven’t spotted us, but their heads swivel side to side.
Guards. They must be Foxes, scoping out the periphery. It won’t be long before we’re in full view.
I grab Harper’s wrist and yank her into a slim alleyway between houses. Harper’s skin is cold against my palm, slippery with rainwater.
‘What are you doing?’ Harper hisses as I tug her further in. With the alley so narrow, we’re close enough for me to feel both of our personal space bubbles verge on eruption.
Behind Harper, the Fox patrollers get closer.
‘Look, I heard there could be Fox activity here today.’ I turn Harper’s back to the mouth of the alleyway, using her as a makeshift shield.
Harper jerks out of my hold, brows knitting. ‘And you brought me straight to criminal activity? Are you nuts?’
‘You’re with me – you’re safe,’ I snap back. Well. ‘I mean, there are two Fox fighters closing in on us, and I could take them out, but I’m really hoping for a subtler approach. Can you shield me for just two minutes?’
‘You should shield me – you’re the Sentinel here.’ Harper grabs my arms and whips me round, so my back faces the Foxes. ‘God, they’re so close.’
‘Are they in the alleyway?’ I whisper. In the cold of the rain, my neck prickles with fear.
Harper’s grip on my biceps tightens. ‘At the entrance. Shit. Ready for more teamwork?’
What kind of question is that? ‘I have a bad feeling about it, if that helps,’ I say.
‘Absolutely not,’ Harper says. She’s dangerously close. ‘This is your fault.’
Then she pushes me into the wall and presses her lips – cold, wet, harsh – to the corner of my mouth. Fingers run through my sopping ponytail, slip my elastic tie off, tangling in my hair until Harper cups my cheeks with her hands and I realize my long hair hides us both.
Her hands are freezing, and a shiver flashes down my spine.
I’ve never really touched a girl like this. I’ve had brushes at clubs, flirting touches with a classmate I thought I might be into, but I’ve never been subjected to a hold like Harper’s – pissed-off, brutal, desperate.
Her lips skirt mine without ever really touching, verging on the precipice of a real kiss. I’m almost offended that Harper finds me too repulsive to actually commit, but if Harper kisses me then that means I’m kissing Harper and that feels so wrong that my stomach actually does a tiny, miffed flip.
One of Harper’s hands slides down my back, squeezes me at my waist.
‘Put your arms around me,’ Harper murmurs against my skin, and something about her hoarse voice tightens my chest. Whether it’s anxiety or adrenalin-fuelled desire, I can’t tell.
‘I detest that you’re making me do this,’ I mutter back. My hands find the drenched, stiff fabric of her graphic shirt before pulling her in flush against me.
She’s warm against the rain.
Her waist arches against my hand, and a knot in my gut constricts. ‘You do this a lot?’ I mutter.
‘Why, you jealous?’ When Harper shifts her hold up to the nape of my neck, I clench my fist and draw her closer on instinct. ‘Keep questioning me and I’ll donkey-kick your butt to the Foxes, Sentinel.’
‘Calm down. I don’t like people like you,’ I breathe.
‘You don’t like pretty girls?’ Harper shifts in my hold, her knees bumping against mine. Her wet denim jeans are coarse against my thigh. I hope my hair covers the blush in my ears, that nature has enough grace to wash away the heat in my face with the rain.
‘I don’t like brats.’ It doesn’t occur to me how tightly I’m holding Harper against me until she nudges me away, resting her forehead against mine.
An emotion I can’t parse curls over my throat and squeezes, and all of a sudden I can barely breathe. My heart struggles to pound. My whole head is Harper, and I need to clear my mind, but it’s all clogged up with thoughts of slick lips, soft skin.
Harper seems to notice. ‘Bunny, hey.’
I hum. My voice breaks. Damn it.
‘Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay.’ A beat. ‘They’re gone.’
I shove Harper off me so hard that she stumbles into the wall behind, and check to make sure that the Foxes have left. Thank God my hair hangs over my face with the movement. I can feel my cheeks burning. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’
Harper rubs her shoulder, which seems to have taken the brunt of the hit, wincing. ‘I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t so bent on your little saviour-complex stunts. You think I enjoyed that any more than you did?’
My elastic tie is still round Harper’s wrist, and I drag it off with a hooked finger. As I tie my hair, I head back to the mouth of the alley. ‘I need to check on the Foxes. You should go, I’ll handle this.’
I’m ready to abandon Harper in that cursed alley, but just as I’m about to leave, she calls for me, ensnaring me again.
‘You’re going after the Foxes like that?’ There are rapid footsteps, then Harper is at my side. She points to the dark sky. ‘It’s going to be raining for a while. You’re going to catch a cold.’
I frown. ‘Since when do you care? It’s fine, my immune system is strong.’
‘Well, mine isn’t.’ Harper folds her arms, her chin stuck out. ‘I can see your blasters on your wrists. I know you can fly. Take me back to Lain Co.’
I touch the blasters on my wrist. There was no need to bring my suit out today, but I never leave home without the lightweight metal bands circling my wrists and ankles.
They concentrate my lunar powers into focused blasts, and help me fly.
‘Um, no. I have Sentinel responsibilities. You can take public transport.’
Harper swallows, her gaze falling to the road. ‘Fine.’
Her voice is small. A breeze picks up, and she visibly shivers, but she turns to walk away.
Oh, the Fox will be the death of me, honestly. I check ALFRED’s weather forecast, determine the path to Lain Co. is clear of lightning risk, and power on my blasters around my wrists and ankles, preparing myself for flight.
‘Fine, you win.’ I pick Harper up easily – Niko has trained me to bridal-carry civilians while flying, and while Harper is heavier than she looks, she’s still small. ‘Hang on tight, kit.’
Harper links her arms around my neck as I propel us into the sky.
For this being the first time Harper’s ever flown, she’s weirdly calm.
It’s also overly intimate, since I only ever carry civilians when I’m Lune.
Outside of my suit, I feel Harper’s hips against my stomach, her thighs hot against my forearm, and suddenly the world is Harper’s forehead pressed to mine again, her body warm through our drenched clothing.
I falter, almost dropping her.
‘Watch it, bunny,’ Harper snaps. Her hold around my neck tightens, and I have to take a deep breath to counter the way my stomach drops.
‘Please just let me take you home in peace.’
‘Your home,’ Harper corrects. ‘It’s just the tower to me.’
‘One more word and I will drop you.’
HARPER
I sneeze eight times before picking up Maria’s call. Maria hates it when people sneeze.
‘Where were you?’ she demands the moment I answer. ‘I completed the transaction for the moonstones safely, but we needed you. You were supposed to help out.’
‘I got the Sentinels off our ass, okay?’ I climb under the covers of my bed. I’d stripped and changed the second I got home, but the cold clings adamantly to my bones. ‘Tia knew something was up, I had to distract her.’
‘Right.’ Maria sucks in a breath. ‘How’d you distract her?’
‘Got her to take me home because it was raining.’ My mind keeps racing to justify the exact, ill-considered distraction route that I’d taken.
You did not just willingly almost kiss Tia Njauw.
I did. I want to burn my face off. The only upside is my nose might blow itself off either way, and I hold the receiver away from my mouth as I struggle through a string of sneezes. On one sneeze, my telekinesis activates – traitor! – and topples my clothes rack.
I groan and shove my face into my pillow.
Over the phone, Maria’s voice crackles. ‘You always get sick when you’re caught in the rain. Go get your flu meds.’
I sigh into my pillowcase. ‘Please don’t pretend to care.’ My nose is so stuffy. I definitely need flu meds, but now Maria’s suggesting it, I don’t want them.
‘I don’t,’ Maria says dryly. ‘We need you for a mission. There’s a shipment of moonstones coming from America, arriving tomorrow night.
The Sentinels will definitely be there to monitor the transaction, but we’re going to intercept it.
As usual, you ward the Sentinels off, I’ll handle the actual stealing. Do you think you can handle it?’
I shove my face into my pillow to muffle a sneeze. ‘Yeah.’
‘Good.’ Maria hangs up.