AndIwait.
He waves at my desk. “Feel free to get started. Wow me with your evocation wonders.”
I snort. “Um,hellno.Youget started. I’m not spilling my project to you before I know what you’re working on and whether this partnership is viable.”
That eyebrow today is sharper than the dagger hail. “I don’t think you understand how this is going to work. You’re still the one who has the most to prove—”
“Oh, fuck all the way off.”
“—becauseyouare the reason we wasted all of last week working solo. And before you prattle on with what I’m sure will be acommendable speech displaying the versatility of the wordfuck,I’m going to need you to tap into that earlierYou’re right, Elethior, I’m sorryenergy. Because Iamright.”
It would be so easy to make each and every one of his piercings turn molten and sizzle right through his face.
But I’m notreactinganymore. I’m not leaping to defensiveness. I candothis. Ihaveto do this, and not everything needs to be an explosion.
My eyes bore holes in the wall over my workstation.
“How do I know your family won’t steal my project?”
I push the question into our lab, let it nestle alongside the silence after Elethior’s too appropriate dressing-down.
His chair squeaks as he shifts. “What do you mean?”
“I mean—” I hiss out a breath and shove my glasses up my nose. Everything in my body feels inelastic. “I mean, what’s to stop your family from snatching up our work under the guise ofwhatever a Tourael does belongs to usand slapping a patent on it, then carting it off to wreak untold havoc withmyresearch?”
Nothing in my tone is accusatory and I offer more of an olive branch when I force myself to meet his gaze.
He watches me, eyes darting between mine, back and forth, his face drooping as he realizes I’m being serious.
But if he says,Well, sucks to be you. I’m turning over everything to them no matter what,can I do anything? I need this grant. Need to complete this project for my degree. Need all of that to keep my Clawstar job.
This massive lab is suddenly very, very small.
“Never mind,” I mutter to my laptop. “Whatever you say, I have no other choice. So—my project.”
Numb, I click open the document with all my plans.
“My family won’t touch a gods-damned thing we do here.”
I’m blinking at him before his words fully process. “What?”
He leans forward, eyes intent, a focus laden with promise that silences me. “I’m playing nice with them until I graduate, but once I’m out, I have no intention of working for any of the companiesmy family has their hands in, and I sure as hell have no intention of letting them patent my research. Our work—yourwork—is safe from them. Through me, at least.”
That noise isn’t the dagger hail; we can’t hear it in here. It’s my pulsethud, thud, thudding in my ears.
I can’t sort through my thoughts for several seconds, and in those seconds, I stare at him, waiting for the wink and the laugh, the punchline.
Elethior smiles, apologetic. “You don’t believe me. Well, believe at least that I gave you a huge bit of control. You could tell my family what I said and create problems for me. Hopefully, in some way, this helps even the power imbalance?”
My eyes widen.
Holy shit.
He could be lying about not wanting to work with his family, or laying out yet another game of chicken between us.
But his eyes are on mine, unshrinking,vulnerable,and I feel a prickling on my skin, the hyperawareness of sensation, the brush of my clothes and the firmness of the chair and the static space between his legs and mine.
“My plan for my project was to release it for free online,” I say. My mouth is dry, tongue sandy. “After graduation. No patents, no copyrights. I have a job lined up with a nonprofit that does that sort of thing, so I was going to use this as a way to reaffirm their choice. We’re only supposed to see how evocation and conjuration overlap, but if our projects end up being tied together, that could mean your project getting released, too.”
