Vigo grabbed me by the waist and sat me on one of the tall stools, then slid the tray of hot dogs between us before grabbing one and biting into it with the kind of relish I’d come to expect from him.
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yep, this is exactly what we needed.”
I bit into one and stifled a moan. It was exactly how a hot dog should be: greasy and a little burnt, the tang of relish and mustard mixing with the fatty meat in a perfect symphony of flavor.
“Wow,” I said, around the bite in my mouth. “This is… Yep, you were right. This was what we needed.”
We ate in silence, taking turns sipping on the giant Coke, watching pedestrians pass by on the other side of the glass while we demolished the hot dogs.
Vigo sighed when he took his last bite.
I took his hand. “Feel better?”
He nodded and rested our joined hands on my knee, bare under the skirt of my dress. “I feel like every one of those fucking things takes five years off my life.”
I knew he was talking about the award ceremony.
“You’re so good at it,” I said. “Talking to people, seeming interested.”
“It’s all a show, mouse.” He squeezed my hand. “And life’s too short to spend it putting on a fucking show.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer.
Because what had I been doing my entire adult life if not putting on a show?
Was that what I planned to do when my three months with the Hawks were up? Just go back to being Coffee Shop Cassie? Putting on a show to make everyone else happy, especially Bram?
I hadn’t realized it at the time, but my life before the Hunt had been me small.
And pretty soon I’d have to decide whether being what Bram wanted me to be was worth dimming a light that three months ago, I hadn’t even known I had.
33
JAGGER
Aventine’s campuswas buzzing with activity as we made our way past the frat houses toward the admin building, the old-school street lamps casting light over the walkways while excited students traveled in packs.
It took me a minute to understand why it was packed when it was almost midnight: it was September.
That explained why music thumped from the frat houses, girls tottering past in heels and short skirts, guys laughing too loud and smelling like expensive cologne as they headed out for a night of partying at the start of the school year.
“You do all this shit?” Hawk asked as we walked. “In college?”
“Believe it or not, I was too much of a nerd.”
He barked out a laugh. “I believe it.”
“Fuck off.” I edged to the side of the walkway as a group of giggling girls moved past us, intent on their next party destination. “I take it you were a party animal?”
“Until I got kicked out,” Hawk said. “But only because school was boring as fuck.”
I knew he’d gotten kicked out of college in his third year, knew the FBI had taken him as an exception to their usual requirements on account of his giant IQ and penchant for trouble.
They’d thought they could use him — all that brain power and fearlessness — but even they couldn’t tame him and it had ended badly for everyone.
We passed an arguing couple — the guy like a deer in headlights, the girl crying — and continued toward the administration building. I had to admit it was a nice campus, the manicured grounds surrounded by the Blackwell preserve, the forest a dark and silent fortress around the university.
We continued around a curve and the brick administration building came into view, Neo Alinari and Rock Barone standing in front of the stairs like designer gargoyles.
