Brightly (Flicker #2) (32 page)

“Oh. Those.” He knew what Henry was looking at: the mess of slightly raised scar tissue that covered most of his back. While Nasser’s salve had helped the wounds close quickly and prevented infection, there was only so much he could do about scarring. Filo’s back had been shredded that night. “I had a run-in with a group of boggarts during a job last year.”

“There are so many.” Henry’s voice was strange and soft, like he was looking at something he’d never seen before. “Are these all from jobs?”

“Most of them.” Filo thought of the lattice of pale, thin lines on the insides of his forearms and the backs of his legs, reminders of Morgan’s hickory switch. She’d only used it when Filo was young: As he got older, taller and more unwieldy to restrain, she found that her fists and her claws were better tools for discipline.

When Filo slowly sat on the blanket, he grabbed his shirt, but he didn’t move to put it on. He just clutched it in one hand.

“I didn’t realize it was like that,” Henry said, sitting next to him. “We don’t really get dangerous jobs. We get hurt sometimes… but not like this.”

Lightly, Henry traced an old scar on the top of Filo’s shoulder. He trailed his fingers along Filo’s collarbone and Filo felt his body tense automatically at the touch.

“Is this okay?” Henry asked quietly.

“Yes,” Filo said—surprised he’d said it, surprised he’d meant it. He was still strung tight, braced, the same way he’d been in the water before he realized Henry was holding him up.
I’ve got you. I promise.
At that thought, he felt some of the stiffness leave his shoulders.

Henry’s hand slid lower. He laid his palm against Filo’s chest, experimentally, the same way he’d touched the sea serpent for the first time. When Henry splayed his fingers, Filo’s breath hitched.

“And this?” Henry asked, glancing up. His eyes glowed like deep water.

“Yes,” Filo said again. He sat stock-still, but his heart drummed like a wild creature’s. He realized suddenly that Henry could surely feel it beating under his hand.

Moving to his knees, Henry edged closer, and Filo watched him, memorizing the curve of his neck and the way the light played across the side of his face. Even more than that gilded moment on the hilltop, he wanted to remember this. He wanted to keep this.

Filo’s skin hummed like it knew something he didn’t. He could see the pulse fluttering at Henry’s throat, rabbit-fast.

Henry skimmed his thumb along Filo’s jaw, his eyes never leaving Filo’s. “And this?”

When he reached up to wrap his fingers around Henry’s wrist, Filo’s hand was trembling. He whispered, “Yes.”

Their lips brushed, as light and brief and helpless as moths bumping against a light bulb.

For a moment, everything hung in suspension. Filo didn’t breathe. His heart stumbled. Then Henry cupped Filo’s face in his hands and brought their mouths together.

Henry’s kisses were deep and expansive. He kissed like the sea throwing itself onto the rocks. He smelled of wind and wood and salt water, of everything Filo had never known. Filo kissed him back, clumsy but eager, gripping his shoulders, aflame with the realization that
this
was what he had wanted all along, what he’d feared and been unable to name: Henry. Just Henry. Around them, Filo felt the world fading, washing away, until there was nothing left but breath and touch and a feeling in his chest like something blooming from the inside out. It was a different kind of drowning.

At last, Henry broke the kiss. The world flooded back in: the whooshing of the sea, the crackling of the fire, the wind sighing in the trees above the beach.

Henry was edged in firelight, and he had those eyes, and if Filo had been anyone else, he would’ve thought to himself that Henry really was beautiful. But he wasn’t someone else. He was Filo Shine, and he couldn’t allow himself to think that way.

“Filo,” Henry started, a note of helplessness in his voice. “Filo, I…”

But Filo couldn’t bear to hear him. He was almost afraid to look at him. Henry was close enough to touch, and Filo wanted to touch him again—badly, recklessly—and that scared him. He wasn’t supposed to care. He had tried so hard not to care, but now he felt like something unknown and unknowable had opened up between them, a sea he couldn’t navigate. He picked up his shirt and pulled it on quickly.

“It’s getting late.” When Filo spoke, he was aware of his own mouth in a way he’d never been before. His lips felt soft, bruised, but in a good way. Somehow, that made him feel worse. “We should probably head back.”

Filo saw the moment when Henry’s face closed off, everything open shuttering like windows against a storm.

Chapter Sixteen:

Henry walked into the kitchen the next morning when the rest of them were already eating breakfast. Dropping a folded square of paper beside Clementine’s plate of bacon and eggs, he said, “He’ll meet us tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. “You asked him?”

“Last night,” Henry said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t sound particularly happy about it. “I just got his reply.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“As little as possible. I told him what we’re looking for, not why.”

Clementine unfolded the paper and skimmed it. “Henry, this is perfect! He says he knows exactly where to look for that kind of reference.” She looked up at him. “See? I told you he’d go for it if
you
asked him.”

“We’ll see.” Henry sat at the end of the table, beside Lee.

“Who’s going?” Nasser asked. “Other than Henry, obviously.”

“No more than two or three people should go,” Henry said. “We’re not mounting an expedition or anything.”

“I’ll go,” Clementine volunteered.

“Oh, no,” Henry said. “No way. You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Matt will take one look at you and walk right out. And even if he doesn’t, you’ll antagonize him until he turns your hair blue or something. You know you will,” Henry added, in response to Clementine’s scandalized expression. “You can’t help yourself around him.”

She bristled and turned to Davis, apparently looking for support. In response, Davis pretended to be very interested in his cutlery.

Stabbing a piece of egg with her fork, Clementine sighed. “Fine. But someone has to go who’s not intimidated by him.”

“What you
mean
,” Davis said sagely, “is someone needs to go who’ll be as gruff and abrasive as you would be.”

“Exactly. I’d hate for anyone to get too comfortable.” Clementine looked across the table and smiled. “Hey, Filo…. You’re kind of a jerk.”

Henry huffed and muttered something into his coffee that, to Lee, sounded a lot like, “Tell me about it.” Nobody else seemed to hear him.

Filo looked up. “You’re just noticing that now?”

Clementine’s smile widened. “Oh, you’ll be perfect. You’re definitely going.”

“No,” Filo said immediately. “I don’t think I’d be a good fit for this.”

“Why not?” Jason asked. “It’s a research run. Books are your thing, and your gift of tongues could come in handy. I mean, what if the books are in some weird language and they can’t be taken back to Siren?”

Around the table, Lee, Nasser and Alice all nodded their agreement. Filo shot them a withering look, like they had just committed mutiny. He opened his mouth, but stopped when Clementine turned to Henry and asked, “Do you want him to go?”

“It’s up to him,” Henry said, without looking at Filo. “If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to.”

For a moment, Filo didn’t say anything. Everyone but Henry was looking at Filo, but Filo was only looking at Henry. At last, he dropped his gaze. “Fine,” he groused. “I’ll go.”

Lee was sitting in the tall grass near the cliff that afternoon, working on a seascape, when a shadow fell across her sketchbook. Filo stood over her. The wind sweeping across the field blew his dark hair into his eyes; he swiped it away impatiently.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said, by way of greeting. “It’s important.”

For a second, she just stared at him. Filo didn’t generally ask for favors. “What?”

“You have to tell Henry that you want to go to Seattle, too. You can make up any reason you want. It doesn’t matter. He won’t say no. I just need you to come with us. I never ask you for anything,” he added quickly, before she could even open her mouth.

“Why?” Lee asked, closing her sketchbook. “It’s just a research run. The two of you should be able to handle it.”

“Probably, but…” He shifted uncomfortably and lowered his voice. “I don’t want to be alone with Henry, okay? I need someone else to go with us.”

Lee frowned. “I thought you two got along.”

“We did,” Filo said.

“Then what happened? Did you have a fight?”

“No.”

“Did he do something weird?”

“No.”

“So what gives?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be asking me to go with you,” she pointed out. “Filo, you can’t just ask me to go to Seattle with you, say it’s really important, and then refuse to tell me why. You know me better than that.”

Jamming his hands into his pockets, Filo looked out across the sea. “I screwed up and it’s weird now. That’s all.”

Lee sighed and stood. “If you don’t want to tell me so badly, why can’t you just ask Jason or Alice?”

“Out of the three of you, I thought you were the least nosy,” he said crisply. “I’m starting to doubt my judgment.”

“Huh.” Lee placed a hand on her hip. “Listen, if you don’t tell me, I won’t go, and then you’ll be stuck with Henry all day. Maybe even overnight, if the research takes too long.”

At first, he just stared at her. She could imagine the thoughts whirring through his head. He could still go to Alice or Jason, but they’d ask the same questions. He just had to decide who he would least dislike answering. Finally, he said, “You are diabolical.”

She poked his chest. “Spill or go solo.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “It’s just that we sort of…” Looking away from her, he mumbled, “Kissed.”

Lee blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Wait, you
kissed
him?” she asked, goggling. “Henry? On purpose?”

“It’s not like I planned it!” He was blushing and glaring at the same time, and she almost laughed at the bizarre juxtaposition. “It just happened.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Is that why you don’t want to be alone together? Because you might kiss him again?”

“No,” he snapped, avoiding her eyes. “It was a stupid mistake, and it’s not happening again. It’s just that everything’s messed up now, and I can’t—” He shook his head. “Are you coming or not, you little extortionist?”

This time, she did laugh. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good.” He risked a glance at her. “If you tell anyone, I swear I will find all your little polar bear figurines and smash them in front of you.”

“I won’t say anything,” Lee promised, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “No need to threaten my innocent Christmas decorations. They didn’t do anything to you. Besides…” She flashed him a conspiratorial smile. “Kissing is way more exciting when it’s secret, right?”

That made him blush furiously again. Lee felt a little sorry.

“You don’t have to be so mortified, you know,” she said. “It’s just kissing. I guess you don’t do a lot of that, but…” She paused. “Hold on. Was that your first kiss?”

“Does Juliet count?” he asked, after a moment.

She considered it. “I probably wouldn’t count that, but it’s up to you.”

“In that case, I’m not counting it.” He looked down at his shoes. “So, yeah, I guess it was. Who cares?”

“Filo, that’s really—”
Cute,
she almost said, but caught herself just in time.

“What? That’s what?”

“Great,” she said quickly. “It’s really great that you like him.”

“I don’t like him. I had a massive, momentary lapse in judgment. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, come on. There’s no reason to be this wound-up over one kiss. It’s not like he bit you. I mean, unless he did,” she added thoughtfully. “And even then—”

He looked at her like she’d spontaneously grown a third eye. “You don’t understand anything, do you? We are being
blackmailed
by these people. They have our names. That’s the only reason we came here in the first place. How am I the only one who ever seems to remember that?”

Shading her eyes with her hand, Lee squinted at him. “Wow, Filo, I can hardly see you all the way up on that high horse. It’s amazing that you didn’t lose your balance and fall off while you were sucking face with Henry.”

“I know I messed up,” he said wearily. “You don’t have to rub it in.”