“How lucky?” He handed the drink to a new server and reflexively took a replacement. “I don’t know. Pretty lucky? That whole thing with Imogen was incredible luck. And… and seeking out the White Queen when she was already thinking of making drastic changes was incredibly lucky as well.”
“Mmhmm.” Ravenna leaned back and ran the back of her finger down the length of her neck. “Do you think you’re lucky enough?”
Her eyes were feverishly bright, her smile knowing, and Scorio felt his cheeks burn as he gazed down at his drink once more. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I mean, do you want to get luckier?”
The sounds of the party had faded into a distant roar. Or was that his pulse pounding in his ears? Scorio looked up and met Ravenna’s direct stare. There was no mistaking her intent.
He went to say “no” and then caught himself. His heart was pounding, pounding, and his skin prickled. He felt buoyed by the artificial sense of power bestowed by the elixirs. How many had he had? And still, Ravenna just watched him, a half-smile on her lips, leaning languorously against the railing, watching, waiting, gauging him.
He should say no. Tomorrow they left for the Plains. He was here to… to what? Talk with people he didn’t know? Be rebuffed by Jova? Challenged by Naomi? And what was wrong with… with enjoying himself? It wasn’t as if Ravenna was leaving with them tomorrow. She knew he was going to be gone. She knew exactly what she wanted.
But what did he want?
Scorio set the glass on the railing and straightened.
The answer had become very clear.
Ravenna needed no response. She set her glass beside his and brushed past him, leaving her scent in her wake.
Scorio turned, inhaling deeply, and followed her through the crowd. She didn’t return to the main rooms, but moved to a spiral staircase at the end of the balcony and descended, not once looking back.
Scorio followed her down into a ground floor chamber that fed into the main entrance hall. Through the huge doorway and out into the square.
Ravenna glanced back at him and extended her hand.
He strode forward and took it.
She pulled him through the milling crowd. Through the music and humidity, across the square, and into a side street.
Scorio stumbled after her, feeling wild, reckless. Ravenna’s hand was strong, her grip firm, her fingers wrapped around his palm with a confidence, a surety, that he found intoxicating.
She knew what she wanted. She felt none of this doubt. He admired her clarity. How simple this must be.
They broke out of the crowd into a side street. Nothing seedy. Still the grandness of Ward 6. Four, five-story buildings, each fronted by a balcony, some with windows lit, others dark. Nobody stood on the stoops. Nobody gathered on street corners. Here everyone moved with a purpose.
Even Ravenna and Scorio.
They were almost at her building when Second Clay went dark. The sun-wire cooled abruptly, and the spiral storm clouds broke into revolving curtains of rain. Scorio laughed and went to run, but Ravenna pulled him back, lifting her pale face to the deluge.
Scorio’s laugh cut off abruptly. He stared at her. She stood with her mouth open, her black hair plastered across her face, arms outstretched, drinking in the rain, sublimely indifferent to everyone running past them.
Scorio tilted his head back and opened his mouth. Thick, metallic-tasting water spattered across his skin, his lips, his tongue.
A hand curled around the nape of his neck and pulled his face down. He blinked away the water that had filled in over his eyes just as Ravenna’s bitten lips pressed against his own.
He felt the edge of her hip against his upper thigh, her breast pressed against his chest through their robes. She opened her mouth and her tongue ran across his lips, but when he went to do the same she drew back, and now she did laugh and pulled him across the street, up steps, and out of the rain under a stone overhang.
Scorio felt leaden, clumsy with desire, his thoughts straying and lost in the feverish golden fugue.
He wanted to take hold of her again, press her against the column, but she slipped into the building and was gone.
Grinning, he gave chase.
Up three flights of dark stairs. The lanterns had gone out. Onto a landing, then to her door. He reached for her but she escaped him once more, through the now-open doorway into the darkness beyond.
Within, everything was shadowed, the dark shapes of furniture and walls against the velvety gloom of Bastion’s night. He could smell her, followed the scent then activated his dark vision.
Everything sprang into flattened, gray relief. The place was small. No personal touches. The furniture was elegant but functional. She could have hosted a small party of six for dinner, but more than that would have been crowded.
Ravenna disappeared through an archway.
Scorio slowed.
Why had the lanterns been dark? How did he know this was her apartment? She’d led him directly down the stairwell, not giving him a chance to say goodbye to his friends.
Was this a trap of some kind? An… ambush?
Scorio rubbed at his face. His skin felt numb, his hands overlarge. How strong had those elixirs been?
He listened.
Silence.
Reached out with his senses. Copper swirled in the room, bright gleaming snakes coiling through the reams of Coal. It took extra effort, but he swept mana into his Heart. He felt clumsy, terribly so, but also furious. What kind of fool did she think he was? No, Octavia. Was this all a House Kraken ploy?
Scorio moved into the doorway.
If so, they were going to regret their mistakes.
Ravenna stood alone beside her bed. She’d just finished shedding her robes and now wore little more than a silk shift. It did nothing to hide the curves of her figure. She stepped free of the robes puddled around her feet and approached him.
Scorio froze. Raked the room.
They were utterly alone.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I…”
She reached up, cupped his head with both hands, and pulled him down for another kiss. He tasted golden elixir.
He released the mana in his Heart. It left him feeling dizzy, unbalanced.
“Come here,” she whispered, breaking away. She took his hand and pulled him to the bed.
Turned him around and pushed.
The back of his knees hit the edge and he sat on the firm mattress.
Ravenna moved to stand before him.
He reached out, placing a hand on her angular hip. She caught his other hand and intertwined her fingers with his own.
His mouth felt parched. He yearned for her. But when he pulled she drew back.
With his dark vision, he could see her expression with perfect clarity. Her smile was conflicted, her brow furrowed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She took a sharp breath. “Nothing. Let me get a drink.” She drew back, extracted her hand, and left the room.
Chapter 28
Scorio stared dully at her wardrobe. He could hear her fumbling with bottles in her small kitchen. He shifted his weight on the bed, then raked his hair out of his face. For a moment he thought of shrugging his way out of his robes, then he stood instead and followed her out of the bedroom.
Ravenna stood before a small counter on which bowls were neatly stacked, metal cups placed atop a shelf above that, bottles to one side. She’d selected a bottle whose contents glowed a subtle copper.
Was filling a cup with a shaky hand.
Scorio blinked, palmed his face, and wished he could clear his thoughts. “Ravenna?”
“One second.” He could hear the forced pleasantry in her voice. She raised the cup to her lips and drank it smoothly. “There.” She set the cup down with a distinct click and turned to him, herself once more. Her smile was roguish. “Where were we?”
“Wait.” He raised a palm, forestalling her approach. “What’s going on? Did I do something?”