“Rossini?” Dara said.
Noam’s brow knit. “Who?”
Dara gestured toward him, a hand motion that took in Noam’s whole figure, from unbuttoned collar to the hem of his trousers. “Giorgio Rossini. The tailor?”
“Oh,” Noam said, gaze dropping to his own sleeves, the steel cuff links pinning them closed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just ...” He trailed off, color lighting in his cheeks, presumably as he realized the implications of what he’d said: that Lehrer gave him these clothes. That Lehrer had him measured for them, dressed him to specification.
“Why are you here?” Dara asked.
“Last night,” Noam said. “That was risky—I’m not here to scold you some more,” he added, catching Dara’s expression. “But every time we meet ... especially now that Ames is coming on Mondays, it’s a risk. Lehrer could send someone to your apartment. Or come himself.”
Dara had considered the possibility. But that risk was part of the job; he knew that when he came back to Carolinia.
Noam thrust his hands in his pockets. “So. I thought it might be a good idea if I put up wards in your apartment.”
“Wards.”
“Yeah. I’ve been practicing. I’m pretty good with them now, and I think I’ve come up with a pattern Lehrer won’t be able to break easily. It’s based off technopathy, right, so—”
“I don’t care how it works, Álvaro,” Dara snapped. “I won’t be able to get past it either. You’ll be locking me in.”
“I know.” Noam at least had the grace to look guilty about it. “And I’m so, so sorry about that, Dara. But we can’t risk Lehrer finding you here.”
“How am I supposed to getfood, Álvaro?”
Something brightened in Noam’s expression. “Oh, you eat now? I can bring you something—I can teach Claire and Priya how to take down the wards. Don’t worry. And I’ll—I’ll visit you, so you won’t be lonely.”
He looked so goddamn earnest, weight shifting from foot to foot and gaze fixed on Dara’s face like he actually thought Dara was going to be okay with this plan.
It would be endearing if it weren’t so annoying.
“I don’t want you to put up wards.”
Noam shrugged. “Well, I don’t want you to die. So it seems we find ourselves at an impasse.”
The problem was Noam had a point. If Lehrer came here, Dara had no way of defending himself. And it wouldn’t take much for Ames to figure out where his apartment was. But he couldn’t just move, either—couldn’t be seen out in public again or take the risk of commuting from a new place to Leo’s bar every time they had to meet.
He imagined Lehrer stepping in through that door, tall enough to block out the light from the hall outside. The latch would click shut, and Lehrer’s voice would be low and soft:You’re not as clever as you seem to think, Dara.
Both Dara’s hands curled into fists.
“How will you even get away from him long enough to visit?” Dara said in lieu of a real answer. He cocked a brow. “Lehrer’s going to notice. Don’t you practically live with him now?”
Noam sighed, one hand lifting to scrub the back of his head. “Dara ...”
“It’s not just that I’m angry,” Dara interjected. He took a step back, dropping down onto the edge of his narrow bed. The room was small enough they still weren’t that far apart. He could have lifted one leg and kicked his toe against Noam’s shin. “I need you to understand—I need you to see how sick this is. Because you clearly don’t.”
“Iknowit’s sick. That doesn’t make it any less necessary.”
“Just because he can’t persuade you anymore doesn’t mean he hasn’t brainwashed you all the same. Do you really think all this happenedorganically? That you got involved with Lehrer through a series of accidents—that youchosethis?” Dara laughed, and it felt like acid in his chest. “Lehrer has been planning this from the beginning. Ever since he met you. After all ... anyone could have trained you. Anyone could give you remedial lessons. But Lehrer took a personal interest. Didn’t it occur to you to wonder why that was?”
Noam swallowed visibly. “I—of course it did. But it was just the coup, Dara. He wanted to use my power to overthrow Sacha.”
Sometimes Dara wished Noam were the telepath. Because if Noam could see into Dara’s mind—see all the things Lehrer had done, rather than justhearabout them—maybe he’d finally understand.
“You think he couldn’t overthrow Sacha on his own? He wantedyou. And so he made sure he had you.”
But Noam was already shaking his head, and if Dara’d still had his magic, he would have felt those walls going up in Noam’s mind brick by brick. “You don’t get it,” Noam said. “I told you. I haven’t slept with him. Not since you came back.”
