“How did he look at me?” I whisper.
“Like he was memorizing your face,” she says softly. “Like he was trying to contain the weight of his desires, but failing spectacularly at it. If his heart is made of ice, then you are his flame, burning at the wick to reveal his softness.”
Mercy has always been a bit of a wordsmith. But I fear this time her romantic fancies have gotten ahead of her. Ender does not look at me with anything less than disdain and lust. It is a strong attraction and nothing more.
“But you can’t forget who he is,” Mercy says. “I think often about how our mother found our father bearable for a singlenight. She did not flinch from his touch, and perhaps in some inscrutable way, she even liked him. But that choice doomed her, and I don’t want to watch you make the same mistake.”
Tears sting my eyes because she is right.
I do think a lot about how similar Ender is to our father, how his hands are stained with the blood of innocents. He is just as monstrous as he is.
“You’re so similar to her,” Mercy says. “Brave and passionate and wild. I don’t want to see you lose your spark and your life in pursuit of a man who is unworthy of you.”
I nod.
“You’re right, Mercy,” I say, smiling weakly. “You were always the smart one. Must be all those books.”
Mercy presses a kiss to my forehead. I’m a few minutes older than her, but it always felt like she was a little wiser than me. Calm, deliberate, cautious, while I was reckless and spontaneous.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her hand. “I want to dance with you! We can’t spend the night sitting on our asses.”
Mercy smiles with a shake of her head, but she lets me lead her to where the girls are dancing with Flint.
Tonight I want to make new memories. Good ones that I can hold onto when things get dark, because I know it’s only going to get worse. Our training is coming to a head. Within the next few weeks, one of us will join Black Star.
There are only three of us left.
Flint, Rei, and me.
And I’m not ready to think about what I will do when we reach the last stretch.
chapter
forty-one
Haven
I’ve downed more drinks than I can count, and my feet burn from dancing. Sweat drips down my nape, and my cheeks ache from smiling.
“I need the bathroom,” I yell to Mercy.
“Do you need help?” she asks.
She’s been nursing the same drink since we got here and is stone-cold sober. I can tell she isn’t quite enjoying herself. This isn’t her scene. If Ender lets me see her in the next few days, I will take her to the library or the park. Somewhere she can enjoy herself.
“No.” I giggle. “I can use the toilet myself, Mer-Mer.”
I climb shakily down the stairs, walking like a newborn colt. I survive the descent and turn the corner when my shoulder hits a broad chest. I stumble backwards, and a pair of strong hands catch my arms instantly.
“Careful.”
The voice is low and deep.
An itch tickles my brain. Grayson had a rule. What was it?
It hits me like a ton of bricks.
We were not supposed to go down. Not until Ender and his friends left.
