Infinite Risk (7 page)

“Really? You wanted to be snowed in at the Baltimore with ramen for dinner?”

“Remember what I said before—you, me, adventure? Still applies.” With the sweetest, easiest smile I'd seen from him, he bumped his shoulder lightly against mine.

“Then let's get comfortable.”

I climbed into bed and pulled up the covers because the radiator wasn't winning against the storm outside. Pillow tucked behind me, I settled in to watch the movie. Kian followed suit, though I could tell he was nervous, pretending to be nonchalant. But I acted oblivious, and he soon relaxed, swept into the adventure unfolding on screen. Truthfully, it wasn't the most riveting thing I ever watched, mostly because World War I wasn't my jam, so I got sleepy as I warmed up. My mind wandered to the nights I'd spent in Kian's apartment with his arms around me, dozing through something he loved.

“How do you like it so far?” he whispered.

“It's good.”

“You've been asleep for the last five minutes.”

“I was watching with my eyes closed. To better engage my imagination.”

Kian laughed. “Ah, so that's where they lost you—all the visuals. Maybe we should check into some old radio shows.”

“Maybe.”

“Seriously, though, you can sleep if you're tired. Just tell me where I'm supposed to—”

“Here is fine. I trust you not to do anything, but if you try, I'll kill you.” Because I smiled when I said it, he couldn't tell if it was serious.

“I w-wouldn't,” he stammered.

“Kidding. I do trust you.”

Somehow I stayed awake for the epic conclusion where Charlie and Rose escaped execution via torpedoes or something. By then it was after eleven, so it didn't seem as lame to call it a day. I went to the bathroom first, brushed my teeth, then waved Kian in. “You can use some of my toothpaste if you want.”

“Thanks.”

By the time he came out, I was already snuggled in bed under the blankets. They were thin and raspy, and I'd piled all of them on the bed. At least the much-washed top sheet was soft, if pilled with age. Kian slid in on the other side as if we did this all the time.

And in another world, another life, we might.

“The mattress is kind of lumpy, and there's one spring—”

“Found it,” he groaned.

“I'd offer to flip the mattress, but the other side is worse. Just take my word for it.”

“Nine…” He sounded like he wanted to ask something.

“What?”

“I noticed there's only one set of everything in the bathroom. When you said your dad doesn't pay much attention … I mean, how long has it been since you saw him?”

“Three weeks? Maybe a month.” I kept my voice matter-of-fact.

“So who pays the rent on this place, buys food…” Kian seemed to realize the answer was obvious, so he let that go. “Are you even
safe
here?”

“Maybe not, but I prefer this kind of danger to living under somebody else's roof, where they have all the power, and they can do anything they want to me. I'm emancipated, okay?”

He paused, probably calculating the likelihood that I had actual documents putting me in charge of my own life. “You mean you ran away.”

“It's basically the same thing.”

He made a sound that said he disagreed with me, but he finally whispered, “I can see your point. Sometimes I'd rather be alone than burden my uncle any more. It's really hard when you feel so unwelcome.”

“You don't get along with your relatives?”

“My younger cousins are okay, but I get stuck watching them whenever my aunt feels like going out. And that's the only time she ever talks to me—to tell me to do something. It's like she thinks I work for her.”

“People are assholes,” I muttered.

“No, that's seriously it.” He sounded like he'd come to some realization. “I'm in her house, eating her food. So she figures I should pay it back. No wonder she gets mad that I spend so much time in my room. She wants me doing housework when I'm not at school.”

“Your uncle is nicer?”

“Yeah. He was my dad's younger brother, and I always liked him. But he's gone two or three days a week. He's in sales and the market is tough, so…”

“That might be part of why your aunt is so awful. If they're strapped for cash already.”

In the dark, I sensed more than saw him nod. “Could be. Doesn't make living there any less awkward. Sometimes I pretend my dad didn't die and I have my old life back. Other days I imagine my mom getting her shit together and coming for me.”

“Does it help?” I whispered.

“Not really. Because I know nobody's coming to save me. I just have to stick it out until I graduate. College will be better, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Tell me something?”

“Depends on what it is.” I rolled over because it felt weird not to face him when we were having this intimate conversation.

“Why don't you just drop out? Isn't it hard moving all the time?”

“It's a milestone. And it's come to mean something to me. If I quit, then that's like accepting I don't have a future.”

That was the one true part of these lies; back when the headmaster had agreed to let me finish my senior year on independent study at Blackbriar, I'd known I could pass the equivalency exam right then and save myself the bother. But I couldn't, not after everything that happened. It was too much like giving up.

“You could get your GED and still go to college. It would be better if you had roommates and a nice place to stay.”

“Places like this don't care, as long as you can pay. I can't get into college or an actual apartment with a fake ID.” Luckily, there were logical reasons to back up my presence in his life.

“Right, you need to be eighteen. So you might as well graduate while you're waiting?”

“Basically.”

“I really respect you. Nobody's looking out for you and yet you're still doing everything you need to. So many people would do crazy shit in your situation.”

“You mean like invite guys to sleep over?” I said, smiling.

Kian laughed softly. “Okay, you got me. But I appreciate you taking the risk. I might've frozen to death waiting for my aunt … and I'm actually having an awesome time.”

“Here?” My skepticism was obvious.

“Hey, I live in an attic. It's not a cupboard beneath the stairs, but it's freaking close. My aunt wants
me
to nail up the paneling to cover the insulation.”

“So she wants you to build yourself a room to live in?”

Damn, it's worse than he ever told me. Oh, Kian.

“Basically. I keep telling her I don't know to hang paneling or dry wall, and she's all,
You're supposed to be a genius or something, right? Figure it out.
Like I have nothing better to do than teach myself DIY construction.”

“Isn't that kind of hard to learn from a book?”

“Probably. And if I don't keep my grades up, I'm not going to college; that simple.” His voice contained all the yearning in the world, picturing his escape from Cross Point.

Time to plant a seed.

“There are a lot of great schools in Boston,” I said.

Kian sighed. “Harvard obviously. But there's no way I'm getting in there.”

“It's not the only one, though, and Boston is a cool city. I lived there for a while. It was probably my favorite out of everywhere I've been. I'd like to go back someday.”

“I'll bear that in mind. So … how long will you be here?” Somehow he seemed to realize there was a certain transience about me, maybe from the room I was staying in.

“Until the end of the term.” It was better if he knew up front not to get too attached; I had to change his life just enough, not imprint on him.

“But you'll keep in touch, right?”

The vulnerability in his voice made me reckless. “Definitely.”

With deepest winter setting in, I wasn't sure if I could keep that promise.

 

ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE

In the morning, I woke to find us curled together like puppies.

I lay there for thirty seconds, trying desperately to remember that this Kian was
not
mine. In time, he'd grow into a version of the person I'd loved, but they would never be one and the same. Like my very existence here, I had to look on my feelings as an echo, a might-have-been. Yet it didn't stop me from staring at the thick curl of his lashes, the dark hair falling in a tangle against his cheek. The slope of his nose was the same; so were his eyes. Really, Raoul hadn't done a lot more than refine his features into the supernatural beauty that was so startling.

He's not yours,
I reminded myself, and rolled out of bed before I could be tempted to linger. If he woke and caught me staring, it would break one of two ways.
Option A: He concludes I like him and makes a move. Option B: He thinks I'm creepy and starts pulling back.
Both were bad for different reasons, so I went into the bathroom to wash up. When I came out ten minutes later, Kian was awake. He managed a bashful smile as he sidled by for his turn.

“Hungry?” I asked ten minutes later, as the door swung open.

“Yeah, but I'm feeling guilty.”

“Don't worry about it.” I shoved a napkin with a PB&J on it toward him. “Breakfast of champions, so eat up.”

After a makeshift meal, I peered out the window, relieved to find the streets plowed. As a result, three-foot dirty gray drifts partially blocked the sidewalk, but at least vehicles were moving on the wet streets. Honking horns and the red glare of taillights made things seem more normal than they had the night before, eerie in the winter desolation. It was hard not to see Wedderburn's fingerprints all over that storm, but maybe I was paranoid.

“I should get back,” Kian said, sounding reluctant.

“I need to stop by the store. So I'll walk you to the bus stop.”

“Do you still want to do the thrift shop and the movie tonight?” he asked.

“Definitely. Let's meet at the stop nearest the House of Style.”

Kian laughed. “That name kills me. But, okay, around four?”

“Yep.”

My hoodie was still damp when I shrugged into it, but I didn't say a word. At least my sneakers were dry, thanks to their night by the radiator. This room had no closet, but since I had like four T-shirts, two pairs of jeans, three pairs of panties, two bras, a hoodie, and a jean jacket, I didn't need much space. I wished I had thicker socks and a proper coat, though.

Frowning, Kian watched me layer up. “You dress like you're still in California.”

More like, this was what I could pick up quick and cheap, but my
I'm a time traveler, so I pack light
rationale probably wouldn't play well. So I shrugged.

“It'll do until May, I'm sure. I'm thinking of heading south next.”

“Sounds awesome. Or terrifying.” He seemed like he couldn't make up his mind.

“It's scary.”

I'd never encourage him to run away; the streets would definitely be worse. While it might suck at his aunt and uncle's house, he seemed to be safe physically, at least. I wished staying didn't mean emotional neglect, but I couldn't fix everything. Much as I hated it, some hurts he just had to suffer through and keep fighting.

“Can't you stay?” he asked then. “I mean, isn't it hard starting over every four months?”

“It is. But if I stick around, I risk being found. And I can't have that. It would be bad for me and a disaster for anyone I care about.”

Kian's eyes widened, as if it had never occurred to him that I might run because I was being chased. It was even true in a manner of speaking. Every moment I spent with him, I worried about the other timeline catching up to me. With Raoul watching, Wedderburn might wonder about my interference. If he looked to the future, he'd know. And then shit would start all over again. I might have to kill gods I'd already slain once, and how messed up was that?

“Sometimes I don't know if you're being honest or if you're completely full of shit,” Kian said finally.

I offered an inscrutable smile. “Probably better that way. Let's go.”

The bus stop was past the corner store I usually shopped in, but Kian didn't know that. So I went with him and waited until his bus came. By the brightness of his smile, he thought I just wanted to hang out a little longer. And that was true enough, but I also watched for Raoul, scanning the sparse crowd with a wary eye. Across the street on a diagonal, I glimpsed him curled up on a grate huddled against a building beneath a mound of old newspaper. His derelict guise offered the perfect surveillance cover, as nobody ever paid attention to homeless people. I watched six pedestrians stride right past without ever glancing in his direction. But since spotting him, I sensed the sharpness of his attention.

“My ride's here. See you this afternoon.” Kian summoned my attention with a wave as he got on the bus.

I raised a hand, standing guard until the vehicle moved away from the curb and down the street. Keeping an eye on Raoul in my peripheral vision, I headed back toward the Baltimore; I expected him to follow Kian, but instead, he silently stepped out of the newspaper and circled the building in the opposite direction. My puzzlement lasted exactly half a block, as a grimy hand locked onto my arm and dragged me into an alley littered with needles and broken glass.

Though he was filthy on the surface, Raoul didn't smell like he belonged on the streets. He was leaner than he had been when I first met him, with an aura of palpable menace. Dark, glittering eyes raked me from head to toe; then he narrowed his gaze on my face. I stared back, determined not to give an inch.
The medallion will shield me, and I have Aegis.
As a double agent for the Black Watch, he'd have no compunction about making me disappear from Kian's life, if it looked like I might keep him from extremis.