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I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from smiling. “I’m just so—tired.”
“Me, too.” Her posture slumped. “God, me, too.”
As she walked off, I turned back to Lucas. “I know how we can save Balthazar.”
At first, there was nothing to do but wait. Lucas walked with me to a nearby market, where we grabbed a couple of bottles of orange juice and some honey buns. They were the cheap kind, wrapped in cellophane and sticky like glue, but they were the first food I’d had in more than a day, so I wolfed them down.
“You need anything else?” Lucas said as we walked along the sidewalk. I knew he meant blood.
“I’ll grab something if you just give me a second.”
“I could—”
“No,” I said firmly. “Lucas, drinking your blood has to be the last resort. It’s already changed us both too much.”
“It ties us together. That’s not a bad thing.”
I remembered how I had nearly been able to find Lucas in the middle of the battle only because of the bond created by his blood. But Lucas didn’t know about that; he was talking about something else. “You’re jealous of Balthazar,” I said.
“Should I be?”
“I didn’t mean—Lucas, you know I love you. Only you. But you know that I drank his blood, too, and I think that’s freaking you out. Please understand, that was totally different.”
“Totally more intense, you mean.”
I shook my head. “Different. That’s all. Trust me, there is nothing—nothing—in the world that makes me crazier than being close to you.”
“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.”
