“Oh, let the air out of your head. Everyone knows that once you ride in an Aston Martin you can’t go back to a Honda.”
“Ouch,” he said with a wince, then glanced away, scratching his chest. “Hit me where it hurts, why don’t you.”
I nudged his thigh. “So, is that a yes or no?”
“You really got mermaid blood?”
“Yeah.”No, I don’t even know where to get it.
He leaned in, throwing a glance at Augustine. “I’ll slip out the side. Wait a few minutes, then meet me at the gazebo.”
As soon as Kane disappeared through the door, my gaze scoured the room for someone who could possibly be carrying the drug. In the corner of the room, Geneva and her friends were grouped together. The next graduating class of the Academy. Half of them were children of Sacred Sea members outside the founding families. The other half were flatlanders.
My soon-to-be mother-in-law watched me from the sidelines as Augustine filled her ear. To my right, Monday was breaking away from her boss and heading toward me. I left my spot and approached Geneva before Monday could catch up with me.
“Geneva,” I called, and when her head lifted, her face flushed, her eyes blinking rapidly with a dimpled smile.
“Hold that thought, Adora Sullivan needs me,” she chanted as she stepped over her friends. “I’ll be right back.”
I took us a few feet away, and she looked up at me with an adoring gaze.
“Do you have MB?” I asked her as her eyes seemed to follow every word, her head nodding religiously as I spoke. It wasn’t a ridiculous question since members of the founding families never purchased drugs directly. “Of course it’s not for me, but my—”
She tilted her head. “Oh, is it for Kane Pruitt?”
I was instantly taken aback. “Actually, yes—”
She held up her finger. And then she disappeared, returning in less than ten seconds with her purse. “I don’t usually keep this stuff on me, and no one’s supposed to know this, but Kane Pruitt and I have been seeing each other,” she rambled with a blushing grin, digging into her purse. “He told me not to tell anyone, and I figured since you’re marrying Cyrus Cantini”—why must she use our last names?—“he said you two were done and I thought there was no harm in telling you ...”
“Telling me what?”
“I didn’t think I was going to be able to find anymore, and I was planning to give it to him tonight.” She handed me the bottle. “Will you tell him it’s from me?”
“Wait,” I said, amusement wrapping around my surprised smile. “Is he having sex with you?”
“Oh, gosh, no. He said he respects me and wants to wait,” she explained. “Hopefully soon we can tell everyone. He just wants to wait until the Shadows are gone.”
I laid a hand on her shoulder, my eyes sliding between hers. “Geneva, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Kane’s using you for MB.”
She bristled. “He’s not using me.” But I could see her mind working through her young bright eyes. “But ... I ...”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” And I hoped she believed me. “Thank you, though. I’ll be sure to let him know.”
When I stepped outside, I hid around the side of the building and set the backpack down. Crouching, I scanned the sidewalk, seeing not a soul in sight, and poured witherbane into the mermaid blood. It separated inside the vial instantly, lavender atop crimson. I tried shaking it up, but it separated again. My only hope was that he wouldn’t notice.
At the gazebo, Kane was pacing the wooden planks and blowing hot air into his hands. “It’s about time,” he stuttered, waving me over. “C’mere.”
I set the backpack down on the bench, and Kane wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest and trying to exhume the warmth of our closeness. Winter held us in its hands as though we were a warm cup of coffee.
Aside from lights streaming from Town Hall in the distance, there was total darkness. We could only see what was right in front of us, and the white flakes blowing into the gazebo.
“It’s so quiet out here,” Kane whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Weeping Hollow this quiet before.” He held me closer, and I could feel the slight tremble of his cheek against my hair. “It feels like we’re the last two people on earth.”
I kept my eyes on the moon, watching it slowly bleed as it grew closer to the peak of the eclipse, keeping my strength in check.
“Do you remember when we were kids, and the seven of us used to lay right there every full moon?” He turned us to the lawn in front of the gazebo. “All night we camped out, backs on the grass, staring up into the sky and soaking up the moon because we thought it’d make us stronger.”
“Yeah.” I chuckled, imagining the pile of us. “That seems so long ago.”
