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“He matters to you,” he said quietly. “There’s no hiding that.”
“You matter more.”
I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. His mouth was sweet with juice. At first the kiss was tender, but soon it became deeper. Lucas’s hands tightened around my waist as our lips opened and I felt his tongue brush eagerly against mine. I remembered the night before, how we’d slept beside each other. Juxtaposing our closeness then with our kissing now in my mind created an image so powerful that it made me feel weak.
We kissed again, harder, but then I pulled back. “You’re making me hungry.”
“Like I said, I don’t mind.”
“And I said no. I’m going to catch something. Don’t watch, okay?”
“Shy,” he said, but he turned away.
Honestly, I wasn’t that hungry for blood, but what we were about to attempt was risky. I needed to be able to concentrate. I needed to be strong.
Once I’d had a pigeon, and rinsed my mouth out thoroughly with another bottle of orange juice, Lucas and I returned to the harbor station. I was afraid they would already have started in on Balthazar again, but he must have been terribly hurt, because he didn’t wake up for hours. It was a long time to wait.
As I did the busywork they gave me, sharpening stakes in a vacant lot nearby, Raquel sat down next to me. For a while we whittled side by side in silence, sweating in the hot sun, but finally she said, “That was rough in there.”
“Yeah. It was.”
“I know you used to care about him.” Raquel made quick cuts with her blade. Splinters fell from the wood. “I guess it’s hard to remember the lies he told you while—while something like that is happening.”
“Torture.” I figured we were better off calling it by its rightful name.
Raquel paused, her knife suspended above the stake for a few seconds. Then she nodded. “Yeah. It was torture.”
Maybe she really was thinking sanely about this, instead of letting Black Cross do the thinking for her. I wanted to find out, but now wasn’t the time. Lucas and I could do this alone, and it was better for Raquel if we didn’t involve her.
Finally, around dusk, Milos called, “He’s coming around.”
Lucas and I glanced at each other. We waited until the others were all inside, because we’d need to make an entrance.
“I’m not much of an actress,” I murmured, “but it won’t be hard to act upset.”
“Angry, angry, angry.” Lucas was talking to himself. “Okay, let’s do this. Ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
Together we ran toward the harbor station. When we came in, Milos turned, saw us, and scowled. “Your girlfriend going to run off crying again?”
Lucas snapped, “Bianca and I have some business to resolve.”
Milos looked surprised, but he took a step back.
Lucas pushed his way toward the front of the crowd; I lagged behind. I wasn’t a player in this scenario; honestly, I was more of a prop, there to look stricken and weep. Though I hated pretending to be so helpless, I’d have to take comfort in the fact that this was my plan.
several more minutes that felt like an eternity, the hunters started coming out. When Kate emerged, she glanced down at Lucas and shrugged. “He passed out. We’ll start on him again later.”
“The guy really might not know,” Lucas said. “Mrs. Bethany played favorites, and Balthazar More wasn’t one of her pets.”
“You two knew him?” Kate’s eyes narrowed. I realized that she could now see my tears for what they were—compassion—instead of mere squeamishness. Compassion bothered her more.
Lucas quickly said, “He put the moves on Bianca last year. She told him no, and he didn’t like it. Made a scene. So the guy kind of gets under her skin.”
Kate shrugged. “Seems like you’d be cheering us on, Bianca.”
And that was when it hit me. Oh, absolutely, that’s it, that’s it!
