In answer, he downed another custard tart and rose to his feet. “It’s not far. A quick trip through the wayportal.”
Pressing her lips together, Viri stood as well, wondering if she was making a terrible mistake. But her gut was saying this was the right thing to do. She didn’t trust Reeve as far as she could throw him, but she’d long since learned to trust herself, and she wouldn’t stop now.
“Thanks for the midnight snack, Betty!” Reeve called into the kitchen as he began to lead the way toward the door. “Catch you next time!”
“Bye, loves!” the old woman yelled from somewhere out of sight. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
Viri cringed at the implication but focused on following Reeve around the decorated tables, her fillium shining between them. Seeing it, something began to niggle at her, growing into confusion and then alarm as she watched Reeve stride comfortably forward—toocomfortably.
“Why aren’t you stumbling?” she asked.
He looked at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “Because I learned how to walk as a child?”
“No—why aren’t you tired?”
His eyebrow rose higher. “Because I’ve been locked in a cell with nothing to do but nap for a week? And because I just ate my body weight in sugar?”
Annoyed, Viri said, “Stop answering my questions with questions.”
Bemused, Reeve returned, “Stop asking vague questions and just say what’s on your mind.”
Viri waved her hand holding the fillium. “You’ve been wearing this long enough that you should definitely be feeling its effects by now. You should be exhausted, not…perky.”
“Perky?” Reeve’s mouth curled upward. “I’ve certainly been called worse.”
Viri halted just before the bakery door, tugging on the cord to make him stop. “Answer me.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t siphoned in a while. Maybe that has something to do with it.”
Viri flinched at the reminder of what he was, what hedid. “That only means it wouldn’t affect you as fast. You still have your own drop of ellixen for it to suppress—it would’ve taken more time, but you should be as weak as a kitten by now.”
He shrugged again. “Maybe it’s broken.”
Dread flooded Viri at the thought. But…she could stillfeelher weapon, her heightened sensitivity picking up a low-level thrumming of ellixen that told her it held as much power as it always had. So that meant—
“It doesn’t work on you,” she gasped out. “Does it?”
A devilish grin stretched across Reeve’s face. “Took you long enough.”
“Youasshole.” Viri shoved his chest, then shoved him again when he unwound the cord from his wrist and dangled it tauntingly in the air, something that would have been impossible for any normal captive.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t ask,” he said, still grinning. “Youof all people should have noticed the signs, especially since it doesn’t work on you, either.”
Viri gaped at him. “How do you know—”
“Because Iremember, Viri. Just because you chose to forget our past doesn’t mean I did.”
“But—I—” Viri didn’t know what to say, having no memory of a time when they might have both realized they were immune to her parents’ fillium. But Reeve was right about her choosing not to recall so many things from back then, the pain too raw to handle, her grief easier when kept at a distance.
Now wasn’t the time to wonder what else she might have swept into the depths of her subconscious, so she held on to her anger and said, “You’ve been able to lie all night. Hasanythingyou’ve told me been true?”
Sobering, Reeve said, “I haven’t lied to you. Not once.”
“You told me you knew about the Priest and his plans.”
“No, I told you I know more than you do, and that you’re going to want to hear it. That’s still true. In more ways than you know.”
“Thentellme,” Viri said.
