“Caleb,” Ryan said now. “All right?”
Caleb nodded, head snapping up and down. “I-I didn’t expect y-y-you to look like that.”
“You mean amazing?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
He squeaked. “Y-y-yessir.”
“Thank you.”
“Are your parents okay with us coming to see your sister today? And she is in good spirits? What was her name again?”
“C-C-Christie, Knight Commander,” Caleb said, wiping his brow. “And it’s fine. She d-d-doesn’t know you’re c-coming. It’s going to be such a s-surprise.”
“Lead the way, then,” I said. “Let’s see if we can make a little girl’s day.”
And he did. We followed Caleb through the gates and out into the streets of the City of Lockes. We were stared at as we walked amongst the people, some smiling at us, some glaring. A few gave us a wide berth, actively avoiding having to walk by us. Still others stopped us and asked for autographs. A woman got a little handsy with Ryan, her generous bosom spilling over the top of her dress, pressing up against him as she stroked the metal of his breastplate. He laughed and chuckled and winked, and they swooned over him, as his fans were wont to do. I was used to people fawning over him. He’d always gotten it more than I had, and while I wasn’t actively ignored when they came up to him, it was obvious that they couldn’t care less I was standing right there.
It was fine.
Everything was fine.
“All right,” I said, pushing off the rather buxom woman as she started to describe how she’d just yesterday discovered that she’d gotten over her gag reflex. “That’s enough for now. While I’m sure the Knight Commander appreciates the fact that you can deep-throat, you should probably know that he can do the same and does so quite regularly. On me, if that wasn’t clear enough.”
The woman scowled at me.
Ryan looked amused, even as he blushed.
I thought Caleb was going to pass out in the street.
We moved along.
“D-does that h-happen a lot?” he asked.
“Not all the time,” Ryan said.
“All the time,” I said. “I mean, have you seen him? He’s pretty much the hottest thing to exist. Of course people will randomly come up to him on the streets to tell him they can swallow an ear of corn to the hilt without choking.”
“Did you s-say c-c-corn?” Caleb asked, eyes wide.
“Still,” Ryan said. “You have to admit, that’s slightly impressive.”
“Maybe you can go back and tell her yourself,” I told him sweetly. “And while you’re at it, ask if you can stay with her because you suddenly don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Please. Like you would ever let me go.”
“I have no one but myself to blame for you.”
“And don’t you forget it,” he said as he grabbed my hand and held on tightly.
We turned down a side street in a part of the City I’d never been to before. The houses were ramshackle, not quite reaching the modesty of the street we’d just left. They weren’t anywhere near the conditions of the slums, but we were in one of the oldest neighborhoods of the City, and the road beneath our feet was cracked, and the houses loomed above us, curling over the street, the sidings in need of a good coat of paint. I looked up, and the sky above was still bright and blue, though it was starting to become streaked with pinks and oranges along the edges as sunset approached. We still had plenty of time, and I told myself the chill I felt down my spine had everything to do with my overactive imagination.
We turned down one more street deeper into the neighborhood. The road was a dead end, with houses that looked a little shabbier. I didn’t know if what I was feeling was pity or worry for Caleb and Christie, but I decided that if the situation looked dire, I would do everything I could to help them. Perhaps Morgan would know something that could help the little girl we were going to meet. I didn’t like it when people suffered and I could do something about it.
We stopped in front of a house at the end of the road. It was missing a few shutters on the windows, and the roof looked as if it needed to be replaced. It was a single story with a small porch, the wood of which was slightly splintered. The door was bright red, a shocking contrast with the drab surroundings.
Caleb stopped in front of the house, looking up at it, wringing his hands again. I was concerned he would rub his skin raw, so I dropped my hand on his shoulder. He looked startled as he glanced at me, a thin layer of sweat above his upper lip. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I said, taking a guess at what worried him.
I seemed to be right, as his shoulders slumped. “I-I— It’s just that y-y-you’re so fancy,” he muttered. “And we’re n-not.”