“I sense a theme.”
“It’s stupid but I can’t help hoping I can learn something that might help.”
“Help how?”
“To win my freedom,” he said quietly.
Crap, that’s right. While I was still a catalyst, Kian had already lost the fight and he would never be free of Wedderburn or his supernatural masters. Little wonder he couldn’t bring himself to try for a normal life, especially if the immortals were prone to threatening people’s loved ones. If he dated a girl outside the game, fell in love, and got married, he’d live a lie the whole time while worrying that they might be targeted in a power play. He must feel so alone. A chill washed over me as I remembered Vi’s creepy recurring dreams. At this point, I was one panic attack away from a total breakdown.
And I can’t help her from the mental ward.
This might not be date conversation, but I had to find out everything I could for Vi’s sake. “Given what you’ve told me, it seems improbable that there’s a single game going on. Dwyer & Fell—”
“It’s more like … each immortal has a counter. And if you’re right about Wedderburn’s identity, his opposite would be Apollo, Baldr, Ao, Dažbog … There are a lot of different names for the sun god, and most cultures had some equivalent.” His sheepish tone told me he’d learned this in the mythology and religion classes he was taking.
“If Wedderburn stole the Oracle from D&F, that makes sense. So there are actually a lot of games going on at once.” I wasn’t sure how knowing that helped me, but I had to assemble all the pieces until I had the big picture. “So is Dwyer the sun god, or fell?”
“No idea, but it’s as good a guess as any. But I didn’t work it out until you figured out who Wedderburn was.”
I frowned, thoughtful. “They’re not gods. That’s just how they were created, not their role now.” At this point, I was out of inspiration, and none of this helped me protect Vi. “What he showed me in his office … he was threatening her. Can he actually—”
“He can.”
“So there are no rules protecting mortals who aren’t in the game?” Wedderburn had hinted as much, but I’d wanted to believe there must be some safeguards in place. The world was apparently much more brutal and lawless that I’d ever previously imagined.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why things seem more screwed up by the week? So much inexplicable violence.”
“My parents blame TV and video games.” It was a weak joke.
“Mine did, too.”
“So he could kill her outright. Or he might make a mini-game of it. God, Kian, if he forces Vi to extremis, there will be no deal,” I guessed in despair.
“She’s a smart girl,” he said. “But she’s not a catalyst.”
It made sense. People with important destinies, who changed the world in some way, couldn’t be common. I still had a hard time believing I ranked among that number. My head swam in a bad way, as fear stole over me.
Kian caught my reaction and added, “He won’t do it lightly. If he does, he loses leverage with you. Remember, he’s a patient creature. Right now he still hopes that you’ll burn your favors like I did, and position yourself to be of maximum use to his faction when the time comes.”
“That’s some comfort.” I rubbed my temples, painfully aware of how powerless I was compared to the monsters arrayed against me. “It’s selfish, but … I just can’t handle anymore of this tonight. Can we take a break?”
“Sure. What would you like to do?”
“I thought you had a plan when you said you were taking me out.”
“There’s no planetarium show tonight.” He paused, as if unsure whether he should admit this. “I checked.”
My heart melted a little. Maybe he was doing exactly as Wedderburn had instructed, making me fall for him, but his awkwardness seemed so genuine. Smooth talk would never work this well with me. I loved feeling like I was the first girl he cared about impressing, so much that he was bad at it. The first apart from Tanya. Who died over him. With a frown, I shut that voice up; it would drive me crazy whispering doubts and fears.
“We could see a movie.” That was what I’d told my parents. It might not be a bad idea to watch one.
“There’s a theater in Cambridge that shows classic films, if you want to check it out.”
“That sounds awesome.”
That settled, he turned the car toward Harvard Square. It took about fifteen minutes to get there, longer to find parking. The night was clear, though light pollution prevented me from stargazing. All of the weirdness and paranoia seemed so far away as I followed Kian toward the theater. It was a tiny place, compared with the multiplexes, inside what looked like a brown brick house, but the college students wandering around told me we were in the right place. Most of them had backpacks, and there were a lot of bikes chained up outside.
There was no choice as to what to watch; we ended up with tickets for Enter the Dragon. I loved old flicks more than modern ones, though I had a soft spot for all sci-fi, especially cult classics like Highlander and Blade Runner. Kian got in line for popcorn while I realized I had no idea what kind of movies he liked, if he was a reader … I knew so little about his personality, other than our shared connection with Wedderburn and the immortal game.
This is so weird. And backward. Life and death aren’t usually part of a first date.
“What’s your favorite film?” I asked, as he turned to hand me a drink.
“Casablanca, followed closely by Notorious.”
“You’re a classic movie nerd.” I grinned at him.
“Guilty. I had such a thing for Ingrid Bergman.”
Inside, the theater was small and intimate, decidedly old-fashioned. I loved everything about it. During the movie, Kian wiped his hand on his thigh repeatedly until I solved his apparent inner conflict by threading my fingers through his. He pushed out a soft breath and smiled at me, like I’d solved some weighty calculus problem. This quiet moment made him feel real in a way that making out couldn’t. It was adorable that while he might kiss me a dark car, he was nervous about how I’d react to a public display of affection, even one so mild.
A hundred and ten minutes later, we filed out of the movie while this ineffable realization sang through my veins: I just had an actual date with a guy who agreed it was a date. I could’ve skipped up the steps into the lobby, no lie; it was childish, I realized, but I didn’t care. Silently beaming, I held Kian’s hand as he wove through the crowd.
According to my phone, it was nearly half past eleven. That left him enough time to get me home on time, early even. While I’d like to stay out later, maybe go back to the diner where it all began, I had to keep my parents happy. With so much real danger for them to worry about, though they didn’t know they should be, I couldn’t afford to let them fret over me missing curfew.
“How are things at school?” he asked, as he opened my car door.
His unfailing attention to good manners instituted a whisper of doubt. You still don’t know for sure that he’s Kian Riley. He loves old movies. He behaves like a courtly gentleman. Everything about him could be a lie. Distrust hurt, forcibly piercing my happy glow like spikes of ice. Maybe … he’s one of them.
Still, I tried not to show my sudden apprehension. “It doesn’t feel like I expected. I hate being a bitch. And … one of the girls is really sick.”