Page 102 of Storm Caller

“Rook,” he repeats and then nods, though I sense no judgment from him. Ironic. “Join us. Have a drink.” He leans over, scoops his glass off the table, and takes a long sip of what looks like whisky. His dark hair is slicked back, and instead of his usual uniform, he’s sporting a fitted white T-shirt and jeans that reveal a body sculpted over plenty of hours in the gym. “We’re celebrating.”

“We heard,” I say. “Congratulations.” I hope it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels.

According to Trinity’s texts, he’s been promoted to captain thanks to his tireless efforts to apprehend Keepers in connection with more murders happening throughout the city. I wonder how many of these people are truly a threat or if the accusations are just for show. I’ve heard enough circulating rumors to suspect that innocent people are being rounded up.

“Thanks,” he says. “It’s about fucking time.”

Then he reaches across the table, and I nearly flinch before realizing he wants to shake my hand.

“No hard feelings, hey? I was just doing my job.”

I feel Rook stiffen beside me, and it takes me a moment to catch my breath.

“Right,” I say. “Of course.”

I accept his hand, and he grips mine firmly before pumping it up and down.

I kind of want to throw up.

“We’re all just trying to keep everyone safe,” he adds.

“Sure,” I say. “No hard feelings.”

Then he breaks into a grin. “Please, sit and have a drink with us. I insist.”

I share a glance with Rook, and we settle across from Dire and Trinity.

“What was it like for you on the outside?” Dire asks, directing the question to Rook.

I know he doesn’t want to answer, but he sits forward, clasps his hands, and drags up a few lies to confirm the version of the Wastes everyone in this room expects. A home that’s barely a home. A life lived on the edge. He plays it up so beautifully that I almost have to stop myself from laughing.

I guess I should know better than most what a good actor Rook can be. I shove the thought aside, reminding myself that I believe everything he told me. That I trust him. That he had no choice but to keep the truth from me, and all his reasons were valid.

While Rook and Dire chat, Trinity scoots around the bench, moving closer. She’s holding a glass of something bright green, and I can tell from the flush on her cheeks that she’s already had a few.

“You still haven’t heard anything from Edward?” I ask. We’ve discussed his absence a few times, and I’ve been both surprised and not surprised by her complete lack of concern.

“No,” she says. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

“You aren’t worried?” I ask.

I know where he is—sort of—but Trinity has no clue. Isn’t she wondering?

“Of course I’m worried,” she says, though she doesn’t really sound it.

While Trinity and I talk, Rook nurses the drink in his hand while refilling Dire’s glass more than once. Our plan is for Rook to get Dire to talk while I distract Trinity. He’s a big guy, so it’ll probably take a lot for him to really loosen up.

“So,” Trinity says. “Tell me more about him.” She gestures to Rook. “You’ve been very quiet about this.” Though I can tell she’s attempting to strike a casual air, there’s a pointedness in her words, as though she’s upset with me for withholding information she never actually asked for.

I shrug, reining in my annoyance. “We got to know each other last year,” I say. “He helped me when my new House pushed me down the stairs. I had nowhere else to go.”

Her expression falls. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard. I would have been in the same boat if I didn’t have my squad.”

My smile is forced as I nod. “I’m glad they were there for you,” I lie.

She beams and takes another sip. “It’s so affirming to finally find somewhere I belong. I was so sure I wanted to join the Patrol, but the switch to Aria opened up an even better possibility. Failing that first test turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Do you really feel like you belong?” I say. “You’re happy with this decision?”