Ann Aguirre - Mortal Danger

“Of course.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

I shook my head.

“Let’s go, then.” To my surprise, he pushed out of the leaves.

I followed. “But this is business-related, can’t you hitch us somewhere?”

“I could, but every expenditure is tracked. I’d rather not risk running over my monthly power allotment when there are decent places to eat nearby.”

“You’re not the one hauling luggage,” I muttered.

“I am now.” He took my wheeled suitcase and backpack before I could protest. “Is this all you bought?”

“Yep. I’m a simple girl.”

“No, you’re not.”

I eyed him. “Like you know me.”

“Don’t you think we study a person before they reach extremis, Edie? I know exactly who you are … and what you’ve been through.”

A shiver went through me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Exposed, certainly, but there was warmth, too. With Kian, I didn’t have to pretend I wasn’t a screwed-up mess with a head full of payback plans. He understood. And I’d never face a moment like the one with Ryu, where I realized I was keeping the ugly bits hidden away.

“Okay, I take it back. Thanks for carrying my stuff.”

“Edie?”

Before turning, I recognized the voice. Ryu stood forty feet away, looking shocked. Kian and I weren’t touching, but he was carrying my luggage in a fairly purposeful way.

“Just a sec,” I said.

Jogging, I closed the distance between us. “What’s up?”

“Who’s that?”

Awkwardness jittered over me, making me shuffle my feet. Kian’s gaze bore into my back, but it was impossible to explain him in a way Ryu would understand. Our summer thing might’ve ended last night when we said good-bye, but I got how he felt. Sort of damn, it’s the next day … she didn’t like me at all. I didn’t want to leave him with that impression.

A few deep breaths allowed me to be cool, outwardly at least. Inner-Edie was banging her head on a wall. “Kian, my ride. You want to meet him?”

Ryu registered that and relaxed. “I’m on my way to the airport, but I have a minute.”

“Did you want to get breakfast with us?”

“I don’t have time for that … but thanks.” He was smiling now. Relieved, even though he didn’t want me to know it.

But factoring in this summer, I’d still spent more time watching people than talking to them. My school survival had depended on reading situations correctly and knowing when to get the hell out. I led him over to where Kian stood, waiting with one hand on the handle of my suitcase. His face gave more neutrality; his bearing radiated snow and Switzerland. Still, he waved, as if anything about this was normal.

“Ryu, Kian.”

They exchanged some kind of palm-slap, fist-bump thing. We made small talk for a few moments; Kian wasn’t rude, just … reserved. I couldn’t read him, and Ryu didn’t seem notice anything off. Soon, Ryu’s cab pulled up to the curb. He leaned down to kiss me good-bye—and I didn’t have to ask. I gave my response just enough warmth to send him off happy and he got in with a promise to e-mail me.

“Summer boyfriend?” Kian guessed, as the taxi pulled away.

“Yeah. I needed to date a nice guy before taking on the alpha assclown at Blackbriar.”

“Good call.”

“Why did you give me that T-shirt anyway?” I didn’t think he’d pretend not to know what I meant.

He tipped his head back, gazing up at the tangle of green leaves overhead. “My boss told me to.”

“Did he tell you why?”

“He said it would put you on the right path.”

“That’s cryptic. I was supposed to meet Ryu?” If I believed half of this bullshit, it could drive me crazy in short order. “Why does your boss care who I date?”

His eyes went flat. “There’s a café down the road, is that okay?”

He totally just changed the subject. He doesn’t want to talk about it. It was stupid, but a spark kindled inside me, racing through my veins with irresistible warmth. Though I knew perfectly well Kian meant to keep his mind on business, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I wouldn’t.

“Yeah, fine.”

Jeannine’s was nicer than an IHOP, but still reasonably priced, which made sense since they served the kind of food drunk students loved to eat and could afford. The sun was bright, the sky pure azure. I enjoyed the walk, though it passed in silence. I liked physical activity more now. The runs with Seth, three times a week, had given me a taste for it, and I’d keep it up after I got home. Along the way, I pondered why Kian’s employer cared about my social life.

Kian didn’t speak again until we settled into a booth. “You said you had questions?”

“Sure. Are you on the list of people your boss wants me to date?” Straight up, put yourself out there. But it wasn’t like I was totally exposed. As far as he knew, I might be asking out of intellectual curiosity.

I wasn’t.

“As of now? No. What else?”

I thought fast. “You said I have to use the last two favors within five years. Is that the only caveat? Does there need to be a time lapse between them or can I ask for both together?”

“Within five years. That’s all.” His jade-and-amber gaze sharpened. “You expect me to believe this is why you wanted to delay the trip home? You could’ve asked that on your doorstep. You said questions. Plural.”

Do you ever think about kissing me? Did you miss me? But those weren’t business-related, as I’d claimed this was, and I wasn’t nearly brave enough. It would take more than the SSP to give me that kind of confidence.

Luckily I had another concern. “The guy who had my slot broke his leg. Did you have anything to do with that?”

Kian didn’t deny it. “I told Wedderburn I needed you enrolled as part of your favor. He handled things from there.”

Damn. So his boss made it happen. Somehow. That’s … alarming.

“He doesn’t care who gets hurt?”

“Wedderburn’s definition of harm is different from ours. ‘The leg will heal in six weeks’ and to him, that’s no time at all.” I could tell Kian was quoting his employer. “If you’re asking if I knew, I didn’t. He never shares his plans with me until it’s too late for me to do anything about it.”

He seems so sad. I wonder how many of us he juggles. Unease trickled down my spine, shadowing a bright and sunny morning. So I changed the subject.

“One last thing, I’m worried about the repayment plan … it’s just vague enough to make me nervous. Can you tell me how it went for you?”

He thought about it, as if going through a mental rulebook in his head. “Actually, I can, as long as I don’t give you specifics about anything else.”

“Then tell me, please?”

Before he could, the waitress came back. I ordered a high-protein scramble while Kian chose blueberry pancakes with extra whipped cream. Made me wonder if he’d wished for the ability to eat everything and not gain weight. Is that even possible?

Once the server left, he murmured, “Okay. Well, I was fifteen when I hit extremis . And I used all my favors within a year.” Faint regret threaded his words.

“Why so fast?”

His silence said he had no intention of telling me that. Fair enough. God, I wished I knew why he’d been so unhappy. This wasn’t fair; he knew everything about me. But then, we weren’t friends. Had no relationship apart from the deal.

I delved elsewhere. “You look so young, it can’t have been long before they called for repayment.”

“Are you asking how old I am?” He sounded amused.

“It doesn’t matter.” Except to satisfy my curiosity—and he obviously wouldn’t.