“I’m assuming they’re replacing Gardener.”
They being the gods. None of us feel optimistic about that.
“See you down there, okay?” I say, squeezing his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch when I do it and his ears only tint a little bit red. Progress.
I leave his room and see Marshal talking to a group in the hallway. They’re students, all clueless about what lives under our feet. If they knew, they wouldn’t be so fresh-faced and perky. I pass by and Marshal catches my eye. A second later he catches up, falling in stride. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
I catch a whiff of his amazing scent when he drapes his arm over my shoulder and asks, “I’m thinking about hosting a party. Would you like an invite? You can be my special guest.”
I can’t help but wonder what makes it “special.”
“You’re hosting it?"
“Yeah, I’ve decided if there’s a chance we’re all going to get eaten by one of those monsters downstairs, we should live it up before we go. I’ve spent too many years in servitude not to enjoy myself a little.”
My first instinct is to say no, but I don’t. “Okay, maybe.”
“Maybe?” he stops suddenly, tone surprised.
“Yeah, maybe.”
I keep walking and leave him standing, handsome and confused, in the hallway. I still haven’t figured out exactly how I’m going to handle Marshal yet. The push-pull of our relationship is exhausting—and exhilarating. Trouble.
I need to figure it out.
I head up to the instructors' dormitory. I pass Agis’ room and see the door is shut. He’s probably down in the gym anyway, fighting personal demons. He’s been quiet and brooding since we found the key. Nothing but physical exertion seems to help.
I get to Armin’s room and knock before walking in. He’s stretched out on the bed, leg wrapped in bandages. Eyes shut, dozing. I sit gently on the edge and reach for his hand. He wakes slowly, eyes fluttering open.
“Look at you,” I say, touching his cheek, “sleeping in a big bed without me.”
“There’s room.” He pulls back the sheets on the opposite side. “Join me.”
“I’d love to but the nurse said a few more days before any rigorous activity.”
“I’m okay with not being rigorous.”
“Well, I’m not,” I say unabashedly. “When we’re in that bed together again, I want you completely healed.” I touch his knee. “How’s the leg.”
“Better. How’s your arm?”
“Okay.” The gash in my arm wasn’t nearly as bad as the one he had. He’s been resting for days, but the magic that flows in his blood that keeps him immortal helps him heal faster.
“Has anything interesting happened while I’ve been out of it?”
“Well, Rupert’s nose is
stuck in a pile of books, Marshal is planning a party, Agis is off sulking somewhere, and Miya is in some kind of meditative state.”
He makes a face. “So nothing interesting.”
“Nope.” I feel the envelope in my back pocket. I pull it out. “Well, other than this.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I got one of those, too.”
“You planning on coming?”