Harvey should know—he was an expert manipulator. All it would take was the right kind of smile and Narinder’s shoulders would relax. He’d lower his voice. He’d forget about the soot on their skin and the blood on his shirt.
“You’re only doing and saying the things I want you to,” Harvey accused, “because you think you can change my mind.”
“So your mind is made up, then?” Narinder challenged. He took another step back and raised his hands. “Then go ahead. Go back to Bryce. I can’t stop you—or help you.”
Harvey nearly did as he said, but then he hesitated. He wasn’t finished. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You kind of did, when you asked to stay with me,” Narinder said flatly.
“I asked for a room. Not to be your charity case.”
Narinder squeezed his hands into fists. “You’re infuriating. You’re determined to believe the worst ofeveryoneexcept the one person who deserves it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m the broken one, remember?” Harvey said viciously, shrugging.
“When did I ever call you broken?”
“You said you can’t fix me!”
Narinder took a deep breath. “I meant I won’t kiss you, because I don’t think it will be good for you. You’ve always depended on other people to take you in—you need to fixyourself.”
“Ican’tfix myself!” Harvey shouted. “That’s the whole point! I’m never going to be healthy—I don’t even know if it’s possible for me to bebetter. So if I’m broken, fine. Then call me shattered. Call me beyond repair. But don’t pretend like I have the power to fix myself. Because I...I’m sick. And that isn’t how being sick works!”
Harvey didn’t know if Narinder understood, but Narinder at least had a look on his face like he felt guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “But if it counts for anything, if help is what you need, then I want to help you. I’d do anything to help you.” He shook his head. “But Bryce isn’t something I can help you with. He means something to you I can’t understand, and I don’t know how to help you unravel all of it. I can only tell you that I think you deserve better than that.”
Harvey’s face grew heated—not in anger now, but in shame. He could hear himself, but he didn’t know why he was yelling. He only knew that every word hurt. Because Narinder was right. Harvey should’ve left Bryce years ago, as soon as he’d started dating Rebecca. Harvey had used his work at the Orphan Guild as an excuse, he’d usedanythingas an excuse, but Bryce hadn’t stabbed his knife into Harvey’s side. Harvey did. He’d walked into it, willingly, gladly, because the pain of staying seemed better than the pain of leaving.
Narinder wasn’t rejecting him because Harvey was broken or terrible or unworthy. But because Harvey shouldn’t need someone else to prove him that.
He had the urge to disappear. His flaws coated his skin more than the residue smoke. He wanted to be nothing, no one. He wanted someone who loved him without ever seeing the worst of him.
But that wasn’t love. He could, he finally thought, tell the difference.
“I should stop him,” Harvey murmured.
Narinder’s expression softened, and it hadn’t even taken a smile. “I think you should, too.” He moved closer and kissed Harvey, softly, on the side of his head, and even Harvey couldn’t find any manipulation in it. He took Harvey’s hand and slid something into his palm. “Please. Please be careful.”
Harvey looked down and saw Judgment, Narinder’s Shadow Card. Harvey’s target. His hand shook. “You shouldn’t give this to me.”
“I’m taking a risk,” Narinder whispered. “I want to.”
“When this is over,” Harvey said, “I want us to be happy, too.”
And, clinging to those words, squeezing Judgment, Harvey pushed the door open and left the stairwell, prepared to face Bryce Balfour for the last time.
XX
THE EMPEROR
“It’s children who fight the wars their parents cause.”
Royalist. “The Great Street War.”
The Antiquist
8 Aug YOR 18
