Page 76
Everything has changed.
I will never be rid of this night.
And I can’t face it yet.
“You’ve been up here?” I say to change the subject.
Lonan nods. “I come up here plenty, actually. To think.”
He crosses the room to the lever that pulls back the massive wooden cover that shields the glass dome ceiling. It slides back with a clatter, and I gasp.
The rain is gone. The storm has passed. And through those panes is diaphanous darkness—the clearest new moon night I’ve ever seen.
My attention is only pulled away by Lonan flipping through books that line the shelves around the room, his fingers searching them anxiously. I’m fascinated by how quickly he plows through pages, his eyes skimming, his fingers flipping. I’ve seen him like this before, studying for exams in the library. He’s voracious. Insatiable. Like learning is a fight to the death.
“When you’re dead, I’d like to study your brain,” I tell him.
He offers a sardonic look. “Make yourself useful,” he says, tossing me a book.
It’s dusty and ancient, bound in black leather. When I open it, I find meticulous instructions on birth charts. Lonan continues his search through the other books, oddly quiet.
I don’t know if he feels the strangeness between us, tentative trust braided with fear and something stronger, headier, deeper. That’s more than I can contemplate when we just need to stay alive. Till daybreak. Reverse the clock. Set everything right.
But still the pull toward Galvin remains, a tie toward him that I feel in my very soul, despite everything.
I take a seat before the massive telescope and start fiddling with the dials, trying to follow the instructions in the book on my lap.
“Vesper,” he says, his voice low and careful.
I don’t like the tone of his voice, the invitation and danger in it, so I don’t meet his eye.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
He sighs and comes toward me, fast enough that I pull away from the telescope.
“What are you doing?”
“Stand up.”
“No.”
“Wasn’t asking.” He tugs me to my feet till I’m standing toe-to-toe with him.
“Lonan—”
He tips my chin up toward him. “We’ll find a way to end the blood-bond. We’ll find a way to stop him. Do not start imagining sacrificing yourself to save everyone. Do not give up hope.”
I shake my head. “Please, don’t.”
“Please don’t what?”
“Do . . . that.”
“Oh, she’s cryptic. That work with all the lads?”
I groan. “I’m serious. Lonan . . . what I want . . . it doesn’t matter. What needs to be done needs to be done.” The siphons will spread if we don’t kill Galvin. With the threat of that looming, my life is nearly inconsequential. Whatever choice is to be made, it has little to do with my preference. I am just one person.
