Chapter 188: You Stood Me Up for a Nap

The service door was at the bottom of the East Wing stairs, past the last landing, behind a mop sink.

It was gray steel with a push bar and a sign that had once said STAFF ONLY. Most of the letters had peeled away. Blair leaned on the bar and opened it an inch.

Cold air came through the gap. Outside, a strip of mud ran along the back of the building and into the trees. Down the middle of it ran two thin wheel tracks, side by side, the width of a cart.

She looked at them for a while.

Then she let the door close slowly, so the latch wouldn’t click, and went home.

Heather’s bed was empty. Olive had gone, and the blanket lay on the floor in a heap.

Blair sat down on her own bed for a minute.

When she opened her eyes, the window was dark.

At a quarter to eight Daemus was on the front steps of Dormitory G, sitting on a stadium cushion, a thermos at his elbow and Breakaway beeping on his phone.

He looked up when the door opened.

"Later," he said.

Blair stopped on the top step.

"You said later. I sat in the video room for an hour. In the dark. Like an idiot." He set the phone face down on his knee. "Hollis came in looking for his mouthguard, and I had to pretend I was studying film."

"I fell asleep."

He stared at her.

"You stood me up for a nap."

Blair’s stomach dropped. She came down the steps and stopped in front of him.

"I’m sorry," she said. "I sat down for one minute, and then it was dark. I should have texted."

"I texted you. Four times."

She hadn’t looked. The phone was still in her pocket.

"I’m sorry," she said again. "Really."

He turned the phone over in his hand and didn’t answer.

She took a breath. "I’ll make it up to you."

One ear twitched.

"How?"

"Tonight. When I get back." Her face went hot. "Whatever you want."

He looked up at her for a long moment. Then his ears came up, slowly, all the way.

"Whatever I want," he repeated.

"Within reason."

"Nope. You said it." He held out his hand. "Come here."

He caught her by the hips and pulled her in between his knees, so that for once her face was a little above his. His ears were up.

Then he frowned and looked her over.

"Where’s your coat?"

"I don’t need it."

"It’s freezing."

"I’m not cold."

He took her left hand and pressed it to his cheek. It was warm. He frowned harder.

"You’re like a little furnace."

"I told you."

"Weird," he said, and didn’t let go.

She bent and kissed him.

Her lip still stung, so she started at the corner of his mouth. He laughed against it, and then she forgot about the lip. His hands slid from her hips to the small of her back, under the hem of her sweater, warm on her bare skin, and pulled her in until her knees bumped the step. He opened his mouth under hers. He tasted of coffee. His tongue moved slowly against hers, and her fingers went into his hair, between his ears. He made a low sound in his chest that she felt through her sweater.

Someone whistled from a window above them.

Daemus didn’t look up. He lifted one hand and waved without breaking the kiss.

When she pulled back, he followed her mouth an inch, then let her go.

"Tonight," he said. "You promised."

"I know."

"Whatever I want."

She straightened his collar and went down the hill.

"I’ll be right here," he called after her. "Making a list."

* * *

The faculty lot was dark except at the far end, where Jack’s car was already running.

He didn’t say anything when she got in. His eyes went to her bare arms and away. He pulled out of the lot.

He parked in the same place as last week, across from the black tower. Before she could find the handle, he leaned across her and opened the door himself. His arm stayed there a moment, across her body, holding the door wide while the cold poured in.

"Eleven," he said.

She got out under his arm.

* * *

The courier with the silver scale at his throat met her in the lobby and sent her up without a word.

The elevator opened, and Jasper was standing right outside it with her coat over his arm.

"You left this on my floor," he said.

He wore a loose shirt the color of the water behind him, and his hair was pinned up with pearls. He held the coat open for her like a valet. She took it out of his hands instead, and he let her, laughing.

It had been cleaned. The lake mud was gone from the hem, and the wool had been pressed flat. Someone had mended the lining along the bottom seam with small, neat stitches.

She didn’t remember it being torn.

"Thank you," she said.

"You’re welcome." He put a hand at her back and steered her across the room. "Caleb, say hello."

"Hi, Blair!"

Caleb sat in the same chair at the dining table, the chain at his ankle, a napkin tucked into his collar. A deck of cards was laid out in rows in front of him.

"I’m winning," he said. "It’s solitaire."

Jasper dropped onto the arm of the nearest couch and looked at her.

"So," he said. "Are you fucking the professor?"

Caleb dropped a card.

Blair’s fingers tightened in her coat.

"A crow came through my window for you at one in the morning." Jasper swung his bare foot. "Professors don’t do that for students."

"He’s my professor."

"That isn’t a no."

She didn’t answer. He laughed.

"Don’t look so scared, sweetheart. I won’t tell." He leaned back on one hand. "I’d fuck him too. Those wings. That face. That body. He looked at me last night like I was a stain on his floor." He sighed, pleased. "Maybe we both climb into his bed. Wouldn’t that be fun?"

Blair couldn’t breathe.

"I’ve never tasted a crow," Jasper said.

He was still smiling. Maybe he was giving a joke. Blair had watched him eat a beastman once. He had smiled then, too.

Under the table Caleb’s knee started bouncing, and the chain ticked against the chair leg.

"What do you think, Caleb?" Jasper asked without looking at him.

"I don’t think anything," Caleb said. "I’m playing cards."

"You’re sweating."

"It’s warm in here!"

Jasper got up and came across the room. He stopped in front of Blair, close enough that she had to tip her head back, and tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

"Relax," he said. "I’m only joking...sort of. " He slid the coat out of her arms and laid it over the back of the white couch, smoothing it flat. "I know a goody-two-shoes like you would never do something so...deliciously scandalous."

Then he held out his hand.

"It’s Friday, sweetheart."

Behind him, in the dark of the tank, something long turned and came to the glass.