“Stay put. Or bathe.” He tilted the jar at me. “This won’t take long to make.” At the dull look I gave him, he added, “It’s calming tea. It won’t make you happy, but it will help with your throat. Makes it a little easier to breathe.”
Too tired to argue, I remained on the floor, holding my ribs and staring at the dust tumbling.
When the tea was ready, I sat at the table with him. Leland’s own steaming mug was in front of him, his back to the kitchen. He had to stoop forward a little to avoid the hanging bunches of dried lavender dangling from a line of twine over his head. The tea’s minty smell helped relax me, opening up my lungs on my first sip, and we both drank in silence for a few minutes.
“Why do you need calming?” I asked to put an end to the quiet.
“I don’t,” he said. “But you’re polite . . . sometimes. I figured I’d have as long as it takes to drink this before you ask me to go.”
“You know” — I eyed him over the rim of my mug, my hands hugging its warmth — “sometimes you’re kind of nice.”
He shook his head, throat bobbing. “I’m not.”
“Okay,” I said, a little edge back in my voice now that my tea was half gone. “You’re not.”
A thin-lipped smile was his only response. He directed his attention to his transmitter, content to let me finish drinking in peace.
My blood refused to let him sit there and ignore me. “Why did you take the coin?” I asked.
“Thecoin,” he repeated, setting his transmitter to the side and sitting back.
“The one from Arissa,” I said, though I was certain he hadn’t forgotten about it.
When he reached for his bag, I got lost admiring the long lines of his muscles, how solid he was beneath his white dress shirt. That is until a sharpzipjolted me, and Leland set a gold coin on the table. He pushed it forward like a poker chip.
“She gave you a gold,” he lied. “I slipped the portstop map in your pocket because I didn’t think you’d take it. Coin was in the way.”
I eyed him dubiously over another long sip of tea. “I had other pockets you could’ve slipped it in.”
He leaned forward. “Two were on your ass.”
“And the one on my left hip?”
“Hand positioning. You would’ve noticed it.”
I pushed the coin back to him. “I don’t want your gold, Leland.”
“It’s yours. Arissa gave it to you.”
There was a conversation we needed to have. About whether or not he was my Counterpart, about how I trusted him less and less every time I heard a new lie from him. But I couldn’t do it right then. It was too big. Not something you just throw out into the ether and move on from.
“Thank you for the tea, but I’m not doing this,” I said. “I know that’s not the coin. I know you like blueberry. And I know when you’re lying, Leland.” I got up from the table, not bothering to push in my chair. “I’m taking a bath. And, because bras were not provided for me, I would really like you to not be here when I get out.”
His lips parted to say something, but I stopped him.
“If you’re about to say you have a bra for me” — which I imagine hewas— he hadeverything elsein his bag — “I don’twant it. Please just take your gold and leave.” I shut the door to the washroom without waiting for his reply.
* * *
I got out of the bath and stepped into the living room, all dried off and warm in Leland’s oversized sweats. Immediately, a cold breeze stung my cheeks, and I froze where I was. The front door was blown open, a heaviness hung in the air, and lounging with one arm draped over the back of the couch was Jaxan.
“Oh good,” he said, folding up the newspaper. “You’re home now.”
I calmly scanned the living room for the flask I could’ve sworn I’d left on the coffee table. Not seeing it, my gaze flicked to the kitchen, and stumbled over both empty mugs, right where we’d left them on the table, the gold coin sitting in the middle of them.
Jaxan strode around to the back of the couch. He was almost as tall as Leland. My eyes might have narrowed a little as it dawned on me their height wasn’t the only feature they shared in common. They had the same angular jaw line, the same contemplative, dark eyebrows. And maybe twenty years ago, Jaxan might’ve been as handsome as Leland was. Yet another thing they shared was their ability to stare deeply and give away nothing. Though Leland did it like a switch he hated to turn on, and it didn’t feel quite as callous as Jaxan’s version.
My guess was he’d come to tell me the Echelons believed what was written in tonight’s paper. That I was responsible for Trist’s disappearance.
