Return Once More

“Hey.” Analeigh sidled up and handed me a cup of sherbet punch.

I took it and smiled, tipping the cold drink against my lips. It helped cool the heat creeping up my neck from the paranoia that wouldn’t quite dissipate. “Thanks.”

My best friend went all out, do

“I’m sorry about the whole Evan thing. It just came out,” she whispered in my mind.

“It’s okay.”

We watched the room, comfortable in our roles as observers. Tonight belonged to the oldest apprentice class, who would join the ranks of full Historians in a few weeks. They took turns getting fitted for their new cloaks, all smiles and laughter. Evan Pritchard looked as gorgeous as ever, but his blond-haired perfection couldn’t hold a candle to the passion in Caesarion’s dusky blue eyes under the Egyptian moonlight.

The younger kids laughed at the edges of the dance floor as a disk comp flipped through decades of music, never playing songs from the same year twice. A few third- and fourth-year apprentices moved awkwardly on the floor—dancing wasn’t exactly common outside of weddings and the occasional party—but a few couples in the older classes gave it a good shot.

Sarah and Oz wandered over a few minutes later. She gri

“Hey, guys! Are you having fun?” A thin sheen of perspiration wet her forehead, and her pale, freckled skin glowed. They’d been bopping around the floor a few minutes ago.

“Yep. There’s sherbet punch and eye candy. What more do I need in life?” I joked, nodding in Evan’s direction. It sounded flat to my ears but Sarah didn’t seem to notice.

I chanced a glance at Oz and found him staring back, intensity smoldering in his smoky eyes. Analeigh stepped on my toe before Sarah caught me staring and got the wrong idea; Oz apparently hadn’t considered that because his gaze didn’t leave my face.

A ballad from the decade prior to the abandonment of Earth Before spewed from the speakers embedded in the walls and floor, and Sarah nudged her boyfriend. “Sherbet can’t be the highlight of your night. Go dance with Oz. My feet are sore from being stepped on.”

“Oh. No, really, that’s okay.”

Oz cut off my protest, his smile tight. “Evan loves dancing and he’s quite skilled. Maybe you should practice first.”

Heat flooded my face and I choked on my punch. Sarah had the good sense to look apologetic in response to my glare. Clearly she had blabbed to Oz about my supposed crush. Embarrassing, but the knowing set of his jaw told me he didn’t buy it. He’d heard me talk about Caesarion. Watched me cry over the unfairness of it all.

Now that was mortifying.

I didn’t have any desire to be alone with Oz, or to let him touch me again, but there wasn’t a way to say no without drawing attention. Protesting could make things look more suspicious. The Elders were here, too, and maybe the dance would reassure Truman and Zeke they were right about my focused searches being related to feelings for Oz.

I slid my fingers into his, trying not to frown too hard. His hand was warmer and gentler than it had been yesterday as he led me to the dancing area. At least he couldn’t threaten or manhandle me again in the middle of all these people.

In the center of five or six other couples, Oz stopped and turned, then settled a hand lightly on my waist, as though he expected me to swat it away. When I didn’t, he took my right hand loosely in his left, I set a palm against his solid chest, and we moved.

“I’m sorry for yesterday. I shouldn’t have lost my cool with you, Kaia,” he murmured.

His eyes held honest regret, with perhaps even a tinge of nausea over the whole thing, and holding grudges had never really been my thing. It took too much energy, not to mention I’d always been a big fan of the old adage about keeping enemies as close as friends. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

Oz lowered his voice to a whisper. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got to stop seeing him. I don’t want to report your use of Jonah’s cuff—”

“Then don’t,” I hissed back.

He stepped on my already pinched toe, and I winced.

“Sorry.” Oz’s cheeks flushed red, but he quickly shook off his embarrassment at his truly horrendous dancing. “Like I said, I don’t want to turn you in but I will if it comes to that, in order to keep you safe. You have to trust me.”

Irritation spiked my blood, speeding my pulse until it throbbed in my forehead. I started to pull away before I caught Elder Truman’s eye over his son’s shoulder, and his cold, narrowed gaze kept me in place. I forced my eyes back to Oz’s and gritted my teeth, squeezing my fingers tighter around his. “People keep saying that. I don’t want to be safe, I want to know. Being kept in the dark pisses me off.”

His fingers gripped my waist with more force, and he swallowed hard. His gaze softened until it almost pleaded. For a brief moment, the quiet, nonconfrontational Oz reappeared, painting the changes in him over the past couple of weeks in a harsher light. “I know you as well as anyone, Kaia, and your curiosity isn’t a well-kept secret. As your friend, I’m asking you to leave this alone.”

When I didn’t answer, he ducked his face until I couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. But you can’t save him.”

My heart stopped. The fingers on my free hand went to the necklace hanging against my chest, some kind of tick, or tell, though of what I couldn’t be sure. I swallowed two times, and then again, struggling to find a response that didn’t sound defensive or like a lie. Nothing emerged, and the song ended. Oz turned me loose as though he’d been burned.

“Thank you for the dance.” He left me standing there, unable to make my brain cooperate as far as words.

Determination simmered to a boil, because although his ability to read my desires u

*

Oz and Sarah steered clear of me for the rest of the night, mostly dancing on their own, sometimes hanging around with some of Oz’s older friends from his reflection-intensive study group. Analeigh had gone to the bathroom when I noticed the congregation of Elders had split up. Some of the overseers moved around the room, speaking to their apprentices, congratulating the older kids getting ready to join their ranks, and others had excused themselves. But four were huddled together and headed for the rear door, three of whom had questioned me yesterday. Quiet warnings that had blipped on my radar since talking with Jonah escalated into pealing bells.

Zeke’s hunched figure shuffled toward the exit. Maude stood at his elbow, supporting him lightly. Mi

The hallway loomed, empty and lit by energy-efficient lightbulbs. One flickered overhead, in need of a tightening or a change, and cast an eerie pall over the scene as I pulled off my heels. I didn’t know what I was doing, only that if something secretive was happening at the Academy, like Jonah said, I’d bet my one and only set of pretty teeth that Oz knew what it was. If he was sneaking off to some kind of private Elder meeting about the past being the future or whatever nonsense he’d spouted earlier, I wanted to hear it, too.