Griffin stared at him for a long time, then his head dropped on his neck. “I don’t want you to be right.”
“And yet I am. So we’ll set the trap. Only I’ll be your decoy.”
“You look nothing like me.”
David snorted. “You’re not that much bigger. I can stuff some styrofoam pads in my shoulders, pull on a black wig and gel it all up like a pretty boy. Maybe slap some fuzzy black caterpillars over my eyebrows—”
“Fuck you.” But Griffin was grinning. He reached out to clamp a hand on David’s shoulder and gave it a good squeeze. The grin faded. “Thank you.”
“I’m not doing it because you’re my friend. I’m doing it because I believe in you and what you stand for. You’ve done away with the classes, but I’ll always be a soldier. I’ll always protect you.”
A muscle in Griffin’s jaw jumped. “I know.”
David pulled Griffin in for a shoulder bump and a hearty clap on the back. “Shit, I’ll have to increase your guards tonight at the gala. My people’ll be pissed they won’t be able to drink.”
“Tell you what,” Griffin said, pulling away, “you keep me alive and bring in Wes Pritchart, and I’ll buy them their own fucking vineyard.”
“Will do.”
David left Griffin with the manifesto.
Out in the hall, Emily broke away from the two soldiers flanking her and came up to him, her eyes red but expectant. “I have to keep the letter,” he told her, and she nodded with a grimace. “Thank you for telling us about it.”
“It was Kelsey. She said you deserved to know.”
That was surprising.
“Just get him.” Emily looked beyond fatigued, beyond heartbroken.
On the other side of the clinic, opposite the computers, Kelsey emerged from one of the exam rooms, her brow furrowed in concentration, a tablet computer tucked under her arm. Though she was busy and distracted, she stopped as though his stare owned a physical force. Maybe it did, because he felt something reciprocal and awful stab into his heart.
How did you find out how I feel about you? And when did you decide to use it against me?
He kept waiting for her scorn, for a piercing glare that told him what a shit he’d been. Instead she gave him a slight nod, which lessened the pressure some but didn’t cure it, and then disappeared into the lab.
CHAPTER SIX
Kelsey watched the Star Gala’s procession—the official opening of the two-day holiday—from a place tucked far back in the crowd.
The doors to the hotel ballroom flew open, framing the queenly vision of the costumed woman absorbing the spotlight. Over a thousand pairs of Ofarian eyes swept to Gwen Carroway. Gorgeous and composed as ever, her pale blond hair piled high atop her head, wearing a glittering gown that turned her body into starlight, Gwen cradled the Fragment of Ofaria in her elegant hands. As she began the slow march down the center of the ballroom, parting the sea of Ofarians dressed in black tie, two small children fell in behind her, taking up the ends of the impossibly long train of the sparkling, high-necked costume.
She looked like a bride dressed in the night sky, about to marry the universe.
The whole ballroom had been decorated in billowing midnight blue fabric, and a lone beam of light illuminated the circular dais in the center. Gwen walked toward it with her chin high, her face solemn but commanding. Kelsey thought she looked like hope.
Not everyone agreed.
A woman to her left whispered bitterly to another, “She’ll ruin us all, bringing a Primary in. Who does she think she is?”
Another woman made an ugly scoffing sound. “Selfish whore.”
Kelsey edged away, knowing the gossip and conjecture they spouted weren’t true. Gwen had destroyed the old corrupt Board because she was selfless. Her reward had been finding love. Kelsey would never begrudge her that.
As she slid through the crowd and took a place along the wall with more air and fewer dissidents, Gwen reached the dais and placed the Fragment on a decorative pedestal. She intoned a short blessing on all Ofarians and declared the Ice Rites open.
In the past, these words had been met with cheers and the clinking of glasses. Now, only subdued applause followed.
“Feels different this year, doesn’t it?”
Though the ballroom was warm, Kelsey’s skin turned to goose bumps at the sound of David’s voice. So close. When she turned, she was almost blinded by the sight of him in his tux. It fit him to perfection, and the clean wave of his dark blond hair, coaxed into a rare style, made him look like a god. She’d seen him dressed like this before, but never after she’d known what his lips felt like. That kiss had changed everything. Started something else. Ended more.
She drew a breath. “It does. Hardly anyone is drinking.”
He grinned and it was almost her undoing. She had to look away.
“I know,” he said. “Usually right about now I’m either walking in on couples making out in the bathroom or stuffing wasted Ofarians into taxis.”
Across the room, Gwen descended from the dais. This was her first appearance back in San Francisco after the Board had fallen, and she was mobbed. Griffin stood close by, his eyes always on her. A ring of watchful Ofarian soldiers kept them both protected.
“It was smart of Gwen not to bring her Primary,” Kelsey said.
“From what I understand, it’s to prove that we can live amongst Primaries—even with them—and not compromise ourselves.”
She thought of her clinic and where she wanted to take its purpose. It depended on Primary interaction.
“It must have been hard for Griffin,” she said, “to lose his betrothed.”
David shifted beside her. “Must have been,” he murmured. Then, “Thank you. For telling us about the letter.”
He always said “us” and “we,” never “me” or “I,” as though he never thought he’d make an individual difference.
She faced him. “I did it because it was out in the open, not sneaking around behind Emily’s back. Betraying her trust.”
He didn’t flinch, his stance resolute. “You helped us. Can you keep a secret?” She nodded. “In the letter, Wes made a direct threat against Griffin. When he makes good on that threat, I’ll be waiting for him.”
“You?” she gasped.
He nodded once. “Me.”
Foreboding knotted in her gut at the thought of David putting himself in that kind of danger, even though it was his job and he’d done it countless times before.
“Will you be careful?”
One side of his mouth quirked. “Worried about me?”
“Yes.” Always.
“Never fear. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” That little smile died. His gaze caressed her face, lingered on her hair. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple made a slow undulation just above his bow tie.
I should have kissed you years ago.
He was beyond beautiful, beyond anything she could ever wish for, and suddenly she wanted to tell him. She wanted to start from the beginning and tell him . . . everything.
“David, I—”
His eyes suddenly shuttered, his focus dropping to the patterned carpet. He pressed a finger to his ear, where the curled cord of his radio device ended. Across the ballroom, tense, raised voices broke above the otherwise gentle susurrus of conversation. The sea of bodies shifted violently. A fight had broken out. Ofarian soldiers jogged from their positions around the ballroom and headed for the disturbance.