Chapter 9 #3
“Absolutely.” I relaxed some, though I was unable to keep any real distance between us. His shoulders were too broad, my hips too wide, for our forms not to brush in the intimate dark beneath Maurice’s bed. “Can I trust you?”
Before he could answer, a herd of footsteps echoed beyond the boundary of the bunker. I held my breath. My heart shook my chest wall, beating hard and fast.
“You’re shaking.” Max spoke into my head with the Glamour die. “And you don’t need to worry. I’ll be the first and the last thing they see if they find us.”
It took me a moment to process what he meant, but it hardly loosened the grip of fear on my heart. I hadn’t even realized I was trembling until he placed a hand on my upper thigh. He was like a stone, so heavy and still, and the heat of his touch transferred through the material of my pants.
“Relax.” His voice was rough in my head, his hand tight.
Warmth from his palm spread like a fire across my skin, and my body obeyed his command.
The connection was distraction enough from the murmured voices outside to keep me grounded inside myself, and I focused on his hand, his heat, his voice in my head, until everything else fell away.
“Breathe through it,” he told me. My own words tossed back at me. “I think they’re almost finished. Just a little longer.”
Sounds of a search filtered through the wooden blockade concealing us, but they finally slowed to a stop.
But one set of footsteps made their way to the bed. I heard the mattress slide off to the side while someone passed their hands over the wooden boards above us, searching for a hiding spot.
I slapped my hand over my mouth to silence any sound, my anxious breath determined to betray us both.
Max’s fingers dug into my thigh, squeezing both gently and firmly.
I shut my eyes, praying to any god that might exist, to the Architect if he cared, to make them leave.
The guard dragged his hand one final time, from corner to corner around the bed, before finally giving up.
A whistle blew somewhere beyond the cabin, and the sound of the searchers quickly receded. It seemed they’d left as fast as they’d appeared.
I released a trapped breath and sucked back a gulp of air. Max released his grip on my thigh.
“Good thing you didn’t panic,” he murmured.
I ignored his jab. “That was too close.”
Maurice slid the bunker door open just enough to speak through the space he’d made. “I’m going to go ahead and push us off. Stay in there until we’re through the ports of entry, just in case.”
My heart galloped. “Maurice!”
“Won’t be long now. And don’t worry, there’s a crack somewhere to let air through. Hope neither of you are claustrophobic.”
“This is ridic—” Max tried to snatch the door, but he only succeeded in getting his middle finger smashed as Maurice slammed it shut. Max hissed and reared back, slamming his thick skull into the bridge of my nose.
“Would you be still!” I demanded. “This is hard enough without you thrashing around.”
He hissed a curse. “You’d have plenty of space if you weren’t clinging to me like a scared cat. Stay on your side!” He nudged an elbow into my side.
“It’s called nerves, Max. You’d know about them if you had any feelings in your sorry excuse for a heart.”
His knee pressed against me. “Oh, I have feelings, Ace, and they’re murderous right now. So tread carefully.”
Someone slapped the base of the bed above our faces, making us both startle. Maurice’s voice came from above. “You both keep it down until we’re out of here. I don’t know what’s going on in there, but if anyone gets murdered, I’m not cleaning it up!”
I listened to him tidying his cabin, returning the mattress to the bed and other clutter to their hooks and cupboards, before returning to the main deck.
I tried to inch as far as possible to the other side of the bunk, but there really wasn’t much room, and I remained pressed side by side with Max for the remainder of the trip out the city.
I was thankful he stayed quiet and kept out of my thoughts. I didn’t want to hear his voice or make conversation. As the threat on my life waned and my heartbeat slowed for the first time in hours, I felt the excitement of the last couple of days catch up to me. My eyes were heavy, my mind tired.
I was alive, thanks to the outsider beside me, and that was enough to tolerate sharing air with him in a tiny, hidden compartment for the time being.
“Do you…” I started to ask, breaking the peaceful quiet. “Do you want your Forge die back?”
I thought he might not reply until he finally said, “Keep it for now. You might still need it.” He paused before adding, “As long as you stop setting me on fire.”
I smiled, but it felt strange on my cheeks, like stretching a muscle that hadn’t been used in a long time. A clocktower in the Center bellowed a song, marking the morning hour, but Maurice’s business had finished, both with his legitimate clientele and with the underbelly of this sinking city.
Max’s breath fell into a steady pattern. The dark of the bunker, the warmth of his body next to mine, and the tip of the boat back and forth quickly lulled me to sleep.