I lean over to Nico’s ear, cupping my hand over my mouth like a shield and pushing the key through my lips.
The key drops into my palm.
“You ready to Howard and Louise this?” I whisper, closing my fingers tightly around the key. It’s warm and slick with spit.
Nico keeps his voice low. “I can think of worse ways to go than dismemberment.”
I laugh so hard I snort. “You can?”
His mouth quirks as he stares out at all three doors along the walls, ready for any threats that could come out of them. I reach for Nico and press the key into his palm. I feel the muscles inhis hand tense as he registers what I just gave him. He doesn’t change his face at all, but his grip tightens around my fingers in a firm squeeze.
He leans in close to my ear and whispers, “Angry girl.”
I glow under his approval. He carefully deposits the key into his pocket, keeping his hands there to avoid suspicion. My hand throbs, sending bolts of pain up my arm, but I’m starting to get used to it the way you get used to a headache.
We sit there.
And we wait.
I wait for the Game Master’s voice to come through, frustrated with yet another disruption to his trials and tell us we have to start hacking away at each other, but there’s nothing. I don’t know what to make of nothing. When Morrow’s talking, at least we can guess what he’s thinking.
I try to hear the scratching I could earlier, reaching for that tugging sensation, but I catch nothing.
Minutes crawl by. Nico and I say nothing, only sit next to each other in heavy silence as we watch the numbers tick down.
The timer hits zero with a final beep. I stare at the door, waiting for it to swing open, but it doesn’t move.
“Why isn’t he coming?” I whisper, my voice barely carrying.“Do you think he’s spent too much time inside the host?”
“I don’t know,” Nico says. “It’s possible we need to go further. Do something to piss him off.”
“More than not participating in the trial?” I ask.
Nico nods. He shifts down until he’s lying flat on the ground, and beckons me to join him. I lie down facing him with my head on his bicep, and he pulls me against him. His arms wrap around me, tucking me into the curve of his body like we did when we slept, and I burrow into the warmth radiating off him. It’s not enough to stop the shivering, but it’s something.
“Eden,” Nico mumbles into the top of my head. “Come here.”
I tilt my head up, confused. We’re already as close as two people can get while still technically being separate humans. Our fingers are entwined. Our ankles are hooked together.
“I am here,” I say.
“I know,” he says. “But closer.”
I inch closer until my chest is flush with his. His hand moves to the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Giving him something to be angry about,” he whispers, the smell of mint filling the tiny space between us. “Angry enough to come down here.”
Oh.
Oh.
My heart thumps in anticipation. “I don’t want him to watch this.”
“Me neither,” he says. “But you just focus on me, okay?”
He drags his thumb over my cheekbone until my entire body hums.
