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It took a lot of willpower not to tense with irritation. Seb was right, I had been calling the shots this whole time, but hadn’t he let me? Hadn’t I kept us safe? There wasn’t a way of untangling our plan from this girl, now - he’d gone against my wishes and, short of a direct demand that probably wouldn’t go over well, I didn’t see a way out.
UnlessIfound what we needed before the girl could shove her way into our lives again. If someoneelsedrew the sigils, there was no reason at all for her to hover around Sebastian. I’d have to work fast, though - now that I was racing both our protective spell and that redheaded interloper, urgency was expanding my chest in all the wrong ways.
I kissed Sebastian’s temple and slid away from him, glancing at the trailer door. Fortunately, we were both slated to work in the trailer today, and he could cover for me. “Seb, I need to go see if the library has a book I’ve been tracking down. Can you manage here alone for a few hours?”
Seb looked confused at the sudden change in topic, but nodded. “Of course. Should be slow today, it’s supposed to rain. Just be careful?”
I smiled reassuringly, confident I’d be able to fix our problems before sunset. I’d already tracked down the last bit of lore we’d need - with a little luck and a steady, living hand helping us, Seb and I could betrulyfree. Sure, he’d probably be irritated at me for cutting Poppy out, but what was some little infatuation compared to actual freedom? No more fear, no more hiding, no more breathlessly waiting to be caught.
With another quick hug - Seb and I had discovered early on that some people didn’t approve of two men embracing - I slipped out of the trailer. I wasn’t wearing our garish uniform today, and I’d shrugged off the brightly-colored vest before I left. When we’d fled, it had been with only the baggy linen-like trousers and tunics we wore with the circus - not exactly a discreet look when trying to stay hidden. Our first discreet envelope of “under the table” pay from the zoo had gone to some jeans and t-shirts, much better clothing in terms of discretion. The striped zoo uniforms we had to wear outside the trailer felt constricting, so I only wore mine when I absolutely had to.
I blended into a large group heading towards the bus parking lot and caught a public bus heading into the nearby city. I assumed the girl - Poppy - attended the nearby Arts College of Twin Arbor River. From what I’d overheard and seen during zoo tours, it was the most logical place to start my search for an artist. The trick would be finding the rightkindof artist - a sculptor wouldn’t do us a bit of good.
I frowned out the bus window, closing my eyes and allowing my senses to roam the boundaries of our current sigil-spell. It was a little stronger than I’d feared, but the degradation was unmistakable: we had maybe a week before it would crumble altogether. I wouldn’t go back to Zina, wouldn’t let her pull Seb back into her clutches. I’d sooner deflate myself. She’d been getting meaner, towards the end. When she had too much to drink - more nights than not - she took special glee in threatening Seb’s life. As much as I tried to keep my expressions neutral during her drunken rampages, she knew I cared about him. Zina knewhewas the way to hurt me when her scratches, pinches, and slaps failed to get the reaction she craved out of me. She just hadn’t realized that my feelings were more than fraternal protectiveness - I shuddered to think what might have happened if she’d found out earlier.
A loud chime pulled me out of my reverie, the bus jerking to a stop across the street from the college. I filed out along with a knot of chattering students, following ponytails and buzzcuts in every color of the rainbow. I did like that about the artistic humans, their love of bright hues. My own brilliant royal purple hue was a point of pride whenever I shifted.
I followed the meandering pack in the side doors of the school, grateful I could slip in after I spotted one using a key card. Once they scattered and wandered off down different hallways, however, I was lost. My plan wasn’t well-formed from here; I only knew I needed an artist, but how did one start looking in a place like this?
A loud finger snap caught my attention, echoing down the hall. A peeved-looking older man with wildly unkempt black hair glared at me from a nearby doorway. “Come on - you’re already ten minutes late, let’sgo.” He stabbed a finger towards the room he’d come from, brow raised.
Caught someplace I shouldn’t be without any real explanation, I followed his direction, trying my best to look like I belonged there. A soft purple robe was shoved into my hands as the man flung a hand over his head in exasperation. “Get undressed, robe on, out the side door, you know the drill. Move it, because they’re already getting restless.”
He stomped out, the heavy door he’d indicated thumping in his wake.
I blinked, staring at the robe in my hands. It wasn’t that I was concerned about my nudity - Zina had made both Seb and I exceptional by human standards, for obvious reasons - but rather confused as to why it was called for here. I moved to try the door to the hallway, but found the only handle to be a dimly-lit indicator sign that it was a fire door. I wasn’t sure how the man had opened it without an alarm moments ago, but I didn’t want to risk triggering it by mistake. Looked like I was getting naked.
I methodically stripped down, folding my clothes in a pile and wondering who “they” were on the other side of the smaller door. Obviously artists of some sort, but I wasn’t sure why I’d need to get naked for that. I pulled on the robe, smiling despite the day’s tension. It was gloriously soft, unlike anything I’d ever worn before, and it felt amazing. I allowed a small circle of flesh on my arm to shift, the short, silky fibers of the robe brushing my royal purple balloon-skin with a comforting susurration. The sensation helped settle my nerves, and, after tying the robe securely around my waist, I gently pushed the side door open, blinking my way into a much larger, brighter classroom.
The older man that had ushered me into the first room peeked around the edge of a canvas, giving a small nod of approval. When I didn’t move, he tilted his head towards a dias-like raised bed in the center of the room, raising a brow. What on earth was this? Was he forcing me to perform as Zina did? No one else was on the bed-like counter, just a thin padded mat and a pillow.
Was I expected to perform…alone? Zina had made me do that once before deciding she didn’t care for it, even if I secretly preferred it to her touch. Judging by the mix of easels and sketchbooks around the dias, it was clear the class would be using me as a model, though I’d never heard of anakedmodel before.
The older man cleared his throat sharply. “Welcome to Advanced Figure Drawing, Mr. Bilbrey. Please disrobe and take your place, the class is eager to use their workshop time. I’ll have Andrea bring you some water.”
I nodded nervously, tugging loose the belt of the robe and climbing up onto the raised bed before letting it fall completely away from my body. I dropped the soft purple off the far side of the dias, away from the semicircle of students around me. Unsure what the older man wanted me to do, I leaned back, crossing my arms behind my head on the pillow, just as I’d relax if I was back in Zina’s trailer. Seb and I hadn’t slept in a real bed since escaping, and sometimes I missed the soft comfort of it.
There were a few barely-audible murmurs as I stretched out, causing the man to clear his throat again. “Class, let’s have some professionalism, please. Be grateful for the range of models you’ve had this semester so far, and let’s get to work.”
A young woman, cheeks burning, brought me a cold bottle of water without looking at me directly. I gave her a small nod of thanks and took a sip before getting back in position, setting the bottle down beside the robe. The door to the classroom opened with a harsh squeak, and a familiar head of red hair ducked in, already rambling some sort of explanation or excuse.Just my goddamn luck.
“Professor Anders, I’m so sorry, I just got off the phone with Margot and there’s some kind of passport issue, so-” Poppy cut off abruptly, registering that there was a body on the dias where she clearly hadn’t been expecting one, and also that the body wasme.
The older man - Professor Anders, evidently - gave her a confused look. “What do you mean, Poppy? Mr. Bilbrey’s here, admittedly he cut it a little close, but…?” He squinted at me, tilting his head. “And now that I think about it, have you already been working with him? Mr. Bilbrey is your week’s model, isn’t he? If not, they could practically be twins.”
To her credit, Poppy recovered quickly. “Oh, uhm, yes. I - well, honestly, I forgot we’d already worked out a replacement for William while he was on vacation. Silly of me, I apologize. And yes, you’re absolutely right…Keane sat for me this week. He’s got very interesting lines, don’t you think?”
“Mm.” Professor Anders didn’t seem impressed, but nodded towards an empty seat, which Poppy quickly scurried to, pulling out her sketchbook. With so many students watching and sketching, I couldn’t shoot her the angry look I wanted to, but I did lock eyes with her for a long, uncomfortable moment. Good, she could squirm for all I cared. She’d been a thorn in my side since the moment Seb had dragged her into my trailer.
I tried to remain still after a few quiet corrections from the Professor, and a panicked look or two from Poppy over the next hour or so. I could have admitted I wasn’t who they thought I was and left, but it likely would have prevented me from getting the help I came here for. Additionally, my continual presence seemed to be turning Poppy into a nervous wreck, so that was a nice side-effect.
It wasn’t to say I wasn’t relieved when the Professor finally called time, motioning for me to slide the robe on again as the students filtered out. “Mr. Bilbrey, I would appreciate it if you could be more conscious about time for your next session, but I appreciate your commitment. You were excellent at holding your pose. Poppy? Would you mind letting Mr. Bilbrey back into the storeroom? I need to get to an appointment.”
She flicked her sketchbook closed, nodding as she held it to her chest, staying in place until the Professor had left. I fell into step beside her as she crossed the room, her knuckle-white grip on her sketchbook showing her nerves. “Keane, what the actual hell are you doing here? I know damn well you’re not Drew Bilbrey, and thank God Prof Anders didn’t.”
I smirked, rolling my shoulders in a shrug. “You come and bother me at my job, I figured I’d return the favor.”
She scowled, looking over her shoulders nervously before unlocking and shoving the storeroom door open, gesturing with her sketchbook for me to pass. I slipped past her, not bothering to create space between us in the doorway. I was, strangely enough, becoming a fan of flustered Poppy. Off-balance like this, she felt like less of a problem and more of a…diversion. Something interesting beyond inventories of soda bottles and the endless stress of the protective sigils.
