The look on Tean’s face told him this hadn’t been the right thing to say.
“Chicken noodle is great,” Jem said.
“Hmm,” Tean said.
Jem got a spoonful of broth—which was just a fancy name for soup water.He let it drain back into the bowl.He poked a carrot.
“Jem,” Tean said like he was very tired.
“It’s got lots of vegetables,” Jem said.
“Oh my gosh.”
“It’s probably super healthy.”
“Jem,” Tean said again.“Please.For my sake.It’s been a long day.”
Jem thought about it.“Only because you saved my life.”
“Thank you.”
“But for future reference, like, a chili, or even a stew—”
“Jeremiah.”
Jem tried not to grin, but it slipped out anyway.Tean looked like he might not smile.But there was a hint of it, barely there, at the corners of his mouth.
To be fair, the soupwasgood.It would have been perfect as an appetizer.Or, you know, a side dish.With—what did you eat with soup?Oh, with a mountain of grilled cheese sandwiches.A platter of them.With the cheese all gooey and melted exactly right.
When Jem finished, Tean took the bowl.He brushed a hand over Jem’s forehead.The skin there, too, felt more sensitive than normal.Jem closed his eyes.Tean’s hand drifted away, and from the kitchenette came the sound of water running.The wind shrilled and then pulled back, like something huge and ancient sucking in its breath.The fire crackled, but that was softer now, quieter by the moment.At the edge of Jem’s awareness, right before he could no longer hear it, it sounded like jaws snapping.
A knock at the door made him bolt upright.
The fire.
The wind.
Lamplight.The shape of the room.He was sweating.
“It’s okay,” Tean said from the door.“It’s Vaughan.Go back to sleep.”
Then it came back to Jem: the room that wasn’t their room.The day that wouldn’t end.He wanted to close his eyes.Instead, he made himself sit up.“What time is it?”
“It’s only seven,” Tean said.“You’re tired.Go back to sleep.”
“Open it on the chain,” Jem said.
Tean glanced at him over his shoulder.The door didn’t have a chain, Jem realized a moment too late—fancy places like this probably never had them.But it did have a swing bar, and that was better than nothing.Tean followed his advice, opening the door with the bar still in place.Then he said through the opening.“Jem’s trying to rest.Let’s talk in the hall.”
“No,” Jem said.“Tell him to come in here.”
Tean was silent in that way he had—the decision-making way, the way he sometimes had when things got serious.But finally he eased the door off the lock, opened it the rest of the way, and waved Vaughan into the room.The head of security had changed his suit for jeans and a sweatshirt a lot like Tean’s.Which, Jem was now realizing, probably meant they’d come from the lodge’s gift shop, or whatever a fancy place like this had.Vaughan’s cheeks were red, his nose shiny from the cold, and he was finger-combing hair that was still wet with snow.He looked like he needed to sleep, and soon.
“How’s he doing?”Vaughan asked quietly.
“He’s doing fine,” Jem said.“He’s made a full recovery.”
Tean grimaced, but when he spoke, it was to Jem.“Vaughan is the one who found us.He’s the reason we’re alive.”
