I shrug as I finger-comb my black mop. “Guess so.”
“Cool.” The guy bobs his head and wipes his face with a hand towel.
“You should take Mademoiselle Claire’s class,” the blond at the urinal says.
“What does she teach?” I ask.
“Astronomy.” Carrot-top grins. “But that’s not the reason Liron takes her class.”
“We all got our vices, Paul. At least, mine’s legal.” Liron’s voice resonates against the grimy tiles.
“But you got to admit, my vice has the best ass in Brume. And lips. God, her lips.” I can tell he’s picturing them on his body. Dude needs to get laid.
Liron zips himself up. “Yourviceis also related to the dean, Paul.”
I freeze with my fingers shoved halfway through my hair. “Are you talking about Cadence de Morel?”
Carrot-top’s ears go red. “Um . . . yeah?”
Rage barrels through me, and before I can even think, I shove Paul against the scummy wall.
“Hey!” Liron shouts. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
I check myself and peel my hands off Paul’s flushed skin. “Cadence is a human being. Not a piece of ass with great lips. Show her some goddamn respect,” I say, before limping out of the bathroom and toward door number three. Sure, I’m a giant hypocrite, but Cadence doesn’t deserve to be talked about like Grade A meat.
There’s an envelope taped to my door. The last envelope I received sent me to Brume. Logic tells me this can’t be worse, but my stomach still tilts. I slide a finger under the flap, pull out the paper, and scoff. A welcome and reminder to confirm my class schedule online.Yeah. Whatever.I ball up the paper and chuck it into the wastebasket on the other side of the bed. Three points.
I don’t know if I’m going to need a scuba suit or a miner’s helmet for the well, but considering I own neither, I dress in black jeans, a white button-down, and my scuffed boots. My plan for the morning is to head back to the square to get a better look at what I might be facing, and then stop by De Morel’s manor to squeeze every last ounce of knowledge from the old man’s brain and confirm if it is, in fact, my piece.
I punch my arms through the sleeves of my coat. In the dim light, the Bloodstone looks black as a bullet wound. I’m still studying the ring when I open my door and feel a fist knock against my pec.
I look at the owner of the fist and can’t help smiling.
Cadence jumps and trips. I reach out and catch her arm. Her puffy sleeve is cool under my touch and dispenses a whiff of her scent. I groan without meaning to.
Get it together, Slate.
Her brows fly up under her pearl-gray beanie, and the furry pompom on top flutters. “Your finger!” She sounds almost panicked as she gazes to the hand still cinched around her bicep.
I release her. “What?”
“You groaned.”
“I’m pretty sure I made no such sound.”
Her eyebrows dip. “It was either you or the hinges on your door.”
“Definitely the hinges.” I stretch out my digits. “The finger’s feeling loads better.”Not.But there’s no way I’m letting Cadence believe that moan came from me.
A door slams shut down the hallway, then a key jingles.
Cadence and I both turn. When I catch a glint of copper, my shoulder blades tighten. Cadence shoots the boy a smile.
His steps falter. “Ca-cadence, good morning.”
“Hi, Paul.”
He looks from me to her and back again, freckles melting into his blush. He’s a dick, but at least, he’s a perceptive one, because he power-walks by us, muttering, “Don’t want to be late for class.”
