“Don’t I know.” I want to drape my arm around her again or take her hand. I do neither. In part, because I’m not sure she wants the contact, and in part, because I haveneverwalked hand-in-hand with anyone before. As always, my eyeballs freeze once we’re out of the station. “Welcome to Brume, otherwise known as the Ice-Crack of Hell.”
Cadence grins and shakes her head while Bastian chuckles.
“The Ice-Crack . . .” he repeats, taking in the glowing streetlights, the cobblestones, the fog snaking past like a giant serpent. “You’re so dramatic.”
For once, I’m not. For once, I’m terribly realistic.
As we walk into the fortified part of town at the base of the hill, Bastian peppers Cadence with questions about Brume, and she answers cheerily. It’s only when he says, “So do you think there really was magic here at one time?” that she bites her bottom lip and shrugs, her cheeriness morphing to unease.
And then, because the town’s handkerchief-small, we’ve arrived in front of the tall iron gates ofManoir de Morel.
“Wow.” Bastian whistles approvingly at the house.
Unlike me, wealth doesn’t spark jealousy in him. Not that he’s poor anymore. Although he doesn’t know how rich he is yet. Hopefully, he won’t know for a long while, because him finding out means I’m dead, and I don’t feel like dying.
“We’ll pick you up at ten to,” I call out as she fishes her keys.
“Slate—”
“Cadence.”
“That’s really unnecessary.”
I want to touch her but keep my hands in my pockets and back away. “Ten to eight.”
A breath eases from her lips and bleaches the air. “Fine.”
Once Cadence is safely inside, Bastian all but throttles me with questions about the university. I answer as truthfully as I can, leaving out the part about not actually attending classes and cursed magical artifacts.
I lead him up the stairs to Second Kelc’h, and we skirt the square. He marvels at the Christmas village state of this place, from the slate rooftops that shine like fish scales to the gleaming cobbles dusted with fresh snow. Brume, through his eyes, is a magical place. If only he knew the extent of the magic.
We pass by a gaggle of girls who look our way. He straightens his glasses.
“So, Cadence’s best friend is coming to dinner tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“I think you’ll like her.” Scratch that. I know he’ll like her. But suddenly, I don’t want him to like her because liking her would make him want to stay, and I don’t want him to stay. Maybe I should cancel dinner.
“So how did you and Cadence meet?”
“Remember that stuffy dean who sent me my welcome packet? She’s his daughter.”
“No way. Actually,duh. The mansion had the name on the gate.”
I punch in the code for the dorm’s front door. “Before you ask, we’re not together.”
“But clearly, you wouldn’t object to it.” He follows me up the flight of rickety stairs.
“The only thing that’s clear is that I don’t want her to be with anyone else.” I twist my key in the lock and present my matchbox-sized dorm room to Bastian with a grand flourish.
A grin threatens to cleave his face in half. I don’t think it has anything to do with the sight of my present accommodations. “Never thought womanizing-Slate Ardoin would want to settle.”
I scoff. “No one’s settling.” I pull off my coat, gloves, and shirt and toss them on the bed, then kick off my grimy boots and jeans, but keep my boxers on. “I need a shower.”
Bastian takes in the small bed. “This’ll be just like old times.”
What he means by that is, he’ll curl up on the floor next to my bed, which was something he used to do when we had separate bedrooms back in our foster homes. Every time I’d find him, I’d scoop him up and lay him on my bed, then take his spot on the floorboards, and since he was always such a heavy sleeper, he didn’t notice until the morning.
