Grecian-style architecture made an imposing statement as it towered above the square. I had not seen the King’s College campus since its conception, though it was the perfect place to hide bodies when it was built many years ago.
“There was no longer a point in using old samples. It’s easier just to bring you here,” Alina said quietly. Her slouched demeanor made her appear shorter, weaker.
She clutched her satchel strap and twisted it between her hands. The crease between her brows might become permanent if she continued on like that.
I stepped in front of her, her head bumping into my chest.
“You’re distracted.”
“I’m just thinking is all,” she muttered, trying to move around me.
“Which isdistractingyou.” I blocked her way again.
She let out a heavy sigh and tipped her chin up at me, a tight tic in her jaw.
“Are you...all right?” I asked, the words not feeling natural. The texture of the words felt awful. I wanted to spit them out. However, I was making an effort to behave well and bekind.
The bitter taste was worth it, as her eyes softened but also held some confusion, mostly heedfulness. Any change in her mood other than seething anger was a win in my books.
“I am well, aside from the arms I had to bury this morning.” She threw me a side-eye as she passed.
“Right.” I nodded as if I understood her euphemism, though I did not. I had come to terms with the fact that I might not be able to understandallof her quirks.
A tall echo bounced around the hallways as bustling students scurried around. We must have arrived between periods because there was far too much scuttering. The farther we moved into the building, the stronger the scents of stress and desperation.
I did notice the wide eyes as we passed. The whispers that bounced around us.
Under normal circumstances, I would say they were looking at me—but I knew that was not true. They were looking ather.
Alina was not one to shy away from the looks. I liked that she was unapologetic about taking up the room. Either that or she was suffering from that infamous myopathy and did not notice the curious eyes to begin with. In every room she entered, she did not ask for attention; she demanded it. Her pretty face was only the surface of it. The air around her became sharp like a barber’s razor. She was always calculating—like a bird of prey. It was absurd to remember how I called her a fawn when I first met her. We both knew that describing her as anything meek or small would be a horrible lie.
We finally reached the lab. Unlike the hallways, it was emptyexcept for a few students gathering the remainder of their things from the workbenches. We descended down a short flight of stairs from the viewing area and down to the main floor. This was exactly the type of place I expected her to spend her free time. The space was much brighter with larger windows, much cheerier than her cave.
“I am afraid to ask what sorts of experiments you want to do that require any of these instruments,” I mumbled, spinning a dial on one of the tools. They were more like torture devices, which made my blood flow to surprising places at the thought.
“I just need fresh samples,” she repeated dryly before opening her journal and setting up her notes.
She seemed less excited to experiment today, but not on my account. Her scent was off, less sweet than before. It was like someone forgot to add salt to a broth. She just smelled watered down. I could not judge her paleness well, but she did seem to have a less rosy undertone today.
I felt a pinch in my gut. My appetite had had enough teasing for one morning. I pulled out a cigarette, flicking my lighter to burn the tip. The tobacco was the only thing holding me over for now. Without it, I wasn’t sure where I would be, hopefully not biting into something less than savory.
“Silas!” she scolded me.
I frowned and leaned on the side of a workbench. “What?” I mumbled with the tab between my lips.
“No smoking! We are in a proper lab. You can’t just light whatever you want in here. There are combustibles.”
I held my hands up in surrender and plucked the cigarette from my mouth, going to put it out in a small glass dish.
“No! Those were just cleaned.” Her jaw clenched as she paused her journaling to watch me.
I squinted at her and went to ash it on the floor, though her eyes told me that it was the wrong move.
I let out a sharp breath from my nose in annoyance, opening my mouth and putting the cigarette out on my tongue before hovering it over a garbage receptacle. “Can I throw it away in the bin, or is this also aspecialscience bin that you need to keep clean?”
She rolled her eyes at me and returned to her task.
“Make the draw quick. You just made me toss away my breakfast,” I grumbled, sitting beside her on one of the stools.
