Page 12 of Last Rites

“It wasn’t that I wanted to,” Levitt insisted. “I tried to give you hints, where I could, but I needed you to trust me so you wouldn’t assume I was setting you up. A lot can happen in thirteen years, and I could tell that me being the Right Hand was a shock to you. I needed to be sure that you saw that I was trying to do things differently, and I needed to know that you wouldn’t disrupt the plans I was trying to set in motion.

“Because there was always risk to me, too. I am the only thing standing in the way of people like Merrick bringing back the same violent leadership we barely survived under your father. My duty is to the people of Ashpoint first. You may protect Penny, but I protect them.”

Not very well, by my estimation, considering our initiate group was down from ten to six. But maybe that wasn’t fair. Ashpoint did feel like a genuine community. It didn’t feel dark and oppressive like Kit made it sound in his stories. It was a far different place now than it had been when he lived here before me. Levitt may not have earned much favor with me for the ways he always seemed to let Kit down, but we were two among many. And the many seemed to be faring better than we sometimes were.

Kit let out a long breath, and his hand squeezed mine. The pain in his expression was gone, replaced with something like grief.

“I could have helped,” he said quietly. “I would have.”

Levitt gave another of those small, sad smiles. “Maybe. Still, I think there was a part of me that thought, perhaps you were safer if I said nothing of my own plans to dismantle the Vessel. Perhaps keeping you at arm’s length would protect you in the event that Merrick managed to turn everyone against me.”

“We’re both idiots,” Kit concluded with a humorless chuckle. “Too desperate to protect the people we love to realize we’re making it worse.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner. Truly.”

“So am I.” Kit pulled his hand from mine and held it out to Levitt. “No more secrets, right?”

Levitt clasped the offered hand and nodded. “No more secrets. We work together to make things right here.” His gaze turned to me, and he smiled. “All of us. Starting with the vote tonight to strip Merrick of his rank.”

That was something to celebrate.

When Levitt released Kit’s hand, he stood aside to give us a clear path to the door.

“The journals are yours if you want them, Kit. There’s nobody to stop me giving them back this time.”

Kit glanced over his shoulder at the pile of books. I wanted to tell Levitt to keep them. Throw them in the fire. If he really wanted to protect Kit, that was how he could do it. There was nothing in those pages worth the look they put on Kit’s face.

“I’m going to take Penny to dinner, and I don’t want to lug those things with me,” Kit said. “We’ll swing by on our way home tonight to get them.”

Levitt nodded. “Better make it tomorrow morning. I don’t know how late the vote will go.”

“Could make it never,” I chimed in.

Levitt laughed while Kit shot me a sideways smirk.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” Kit said firmly. “And toast to tonight’s success.”

5

Penny

It was hard to be mad with good news so fresh on my mind. Despite the tense exchange with Levitt, Kit was practically beaming as we left the Right Hand’s house, alight with hope the likes of which I’d never seen. It put a skip in my step as we ventured for the town square.

Veering toward the tavern, we entered hand in hand. It was a heady feeling, especially considering how fearful Kit used to be about showing affection in public. Every glance was like a barb to him, every whisper a plot, and we were certainly meriting both now. Looks and hushed words circulated the room the moment we entered it.

I loved it. Not the attention as much as the freedom. The pride in having my intended on my arm and at my side. He was everything I’d never dared to want. The kind of partner I’d fantasized about since my youth. A shape none of the women in Eastcliff quite fit. But Kit fit perfectly against me as I pulled him to the dancefloor, too excited to sit for a meal.

A man strummed a lute while the woman beside him sang about meadows between mountains, and the melody tickled my ears. As we entered the fray of dancers, Kit slowed but didn’t stop.

I grinned at him. “You don’t get to say no this time.”

His returning smile was a bit wobbly, and his cheeks flushed as he replied, “I wouldn't dream of it.”

I’d never danced with Kit, or any man, but I’d imagined it. The press of our bodies against each other, the sweaty clasp of hands, breaths punctuated with laughter.

This wasn’t exactly that. Kit was stiff and slow despite having agreed to join me. I tugged on his hands and swayed to the beat until he closed the gap between us and I could slip my arm around his waist.

When my palm splayed in the small of his back, his blush deepened, and I giggled.