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“About that—” I lean toward Braxton, desperate to take control of the narrative before his worst thoughts have a chance to spin their own sordid tale. “What Elodie said—”
But Braxton cuts in. “It’s okay.” He dismisses the topic with a quick wave of his hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Whatever did or didn’t happen, the only thing that matters is that you returned.”
I stare at him, more than a little surprised by his reaction. I mean, I guess I should be happy that he’s willing to drop it so easily, but there’s a stubborn part of me that insists on explaining.
“That’s the thing,” I say. “Nothingdidhappen.” The lie gives me pause. Not only am I not the slightest bit believable, but I’ve just made it worse. Now that I’ve gotten myself into this mess, I need to come clean, no matter how much it hurts. “Or at least it’s nothing like Elodie made it sound. It’s just—that boy, the one she was talking about, well, he kissed me…” I suck in a breath and will myself to go on. “And…and I’m pretty sure I kissed him back. But that’s it. Because the second I saw the talisman, my memory of you, and Gray Wolf, and everything else, it all came rushing right back, and—”
“Tasha.” Braxton places a finger to my lips, stopping me before I succeed in making it worse. “I’ve Tripped. I know about the Memory Fade. I’ve experienced it plenty of times. That’s why I gave you the talisman, to help you remember and find your way back. But just so you know, Fade isn’t entirely the curse you may think. Losing sight of your identity also helps you fit in. The trick is to not become totally lost. It’s a balancing act that takes time to perfect.”
I sink against the velvet cushion, grateful to have his support but saddened to think my indiscretion is what prompted it.
“Tell me,” he says. “How was it?”
I gaze up at the domed ceiling, taking a moment to find the right words. “Honestly, it was pretty cool.” I sneak a guilty look his way. “I mean, aside from the fact that I failed to procure all my Gets.”
I remember the look on Arthur’s face as he studied the handkerchief, and how, for whatever reason, it made him forget, or at least not care, about my other, more glaring, failure. Then I sneak another look at Braxton, wondering if Arthur gave him a similar assignment. If maybe it’s standard Gray Wolf procedure for Arthur to convince each new recruit that they’re the one destined to help him fulfill his biggest ambition, only to send them back in time with nothing more to go on than a couple of randomly chosen tarot cards.
But Braxton’s expression remains unchanged. He just nods for me to continue.
I run a finger over the crest on the gold ring that now circles my finger. “I think the reality of actually being there, back in 1745 Versailles…” I look at Braxton, letting my hands fall to my sides. “Well, I’m not sure it fully sunk in until it was over. I mean, most the time I was so nervous, so focused on doing the job without getting caught, there wasn’t a lot of time to really soak it up. Or at least not for long.”
“And now that you’re back?” Braxton bends his head to the side as his eyes fix on mine.
My fingers curl around the bedsheet, knowing I owe him the truth but hoping it won’t make him judge me. “When I think about where I actually was and all that I saw…” My gaze drifts around the room before returning to him. “Well, it was even better than I thought it would be.” I catch the twitch in Braxton’s jaw, note the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly. “And the whole experience felt like a dream. It was kind of surreal and pretty amazing.”
Braxton lifts his glass and tilts it toward me. “Looks like you’re officially Blue now,” he says.
“I don’t know aboutofficial.” I reach for my glass and trace a nervous finger around the stem. “Last time I checked, my sweatshirts were still Yellow.”
“By tomorrow morning, a new stack will be delivered to your room.” Braxton trails a hand along my cheek and tucks some loose strands of hair behind my ear. He knows how hard I’ve worked for this moment, and yet, I can’t help but notice his mood is far from celebratory. “And you were okay?” he asks. “Doing what Arthur required?” He lowers his hand to my arm. The pad of his thumb brushes softly over the finger-shaped marks the groundskeeper made.
There’s a question in Braxton’s gaze that I prefer not to answer. My struggle with that man is not a place I want to revisit.
I tuck my legs underneath me, drain the last of my champagne, and set my flute on the table beside me. “And by that I take it you mean party crashing and nicking jewels from unsuspecting nobles?” My gaze locks on his, suddenly understanding the true reason behind his lack of enthusiasm.
This is about our earlier conversation, when he urged me not to go through with the Trip. How he warned me that I’ll come back changed, and not for the better.
Turns out, he was right. I have changed. I’ve experienced something truly miraculous—one of the best-kept secrets in the world. I took risks, faced danger, and came out triumphant. And, if lifting a few jewels is the price for me to experience thatandfor my mom to be financially secure for the first time in a long time, then I guess I’m willing to pay. Because now that I’ve made it back safely, I’m eager to see where and when I get to go next.
Excitement is a hard thing to hide. And I guess Braxton must sense mine, because he’s quick to say, “Maybe I’ve been Tripping so long, I forgot how exhilarating it can be.”
There’s an uneasy slant to his shoulders, a stiffening in his jaw, which leaves me questioning if he truly believes what he said. And yet, I’m so stirred up by reliving the experience, nothing can get to me.
“There were times when I felt like I was caught in a dream within a dream,” I tell him. “Like I wasn’t fully able to distinguish between fantasy and reality. Though I suppose that’s all part of the Fade.” When I realize I’ve inadvertently brought us right back to the subject I’d hoped to avoid, I feel my face flush a thousand shades of red.
“You’re an AAD now.” Braxton leans toward me and trails a finger along the gold chain, all the way to the talisman that hangs between the swell of my breasts. “Which means, whatever happens when you Trip will not come between us. Unless you want it to, that is.”
There’s a question in his gaze, but I have one, too.
“Why would I want it to?” I whisper, pulling him closer and threading my arms around his neck.
I’m not sure who initiates the kiss; all I know is once I find myself ensconced in Braxton’s arms, I know this is the place I will always return to.
Not Gray Wolf Island, Arthur Blackstone, or even this academy.
But rather to this boy who has eyes like the sea, a charming bit of bend in his nose, and a kiss that’s all-consuming.
