He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to come inside?”

   “I want to kiss you. And I’ll do it out here if I have to.”

   “Oh, well. In that case . . .”

   His arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me to him, kissing me as we stumbled inside. He managed to kick the door closed with one foot and then pressed me against it. Reluctantly, breathlessly, he broke the kiss but leaned so close that our foreheads touched. He cupped my face with his hands.

   “Promise me you won’t storm out again.”

   “I won’t, if you give me a reason to stay.”

   He kissed me again and then scooped me up in his arms. “I’ll give you a lot of them.”

CHAPTER 29

   “SOME THINGS WERE THE SAME,” I REMARKED. “BUT SOME things were different.”

   Grant shifted closer to me in the bed and draped an arm around my waist, which was an astonishingly intimate action for him. “Thank you for that specific feedback. I’ll be sure to make note of it.”

   “Don’t worry.” I shifted to my side, and he curled up at my back. “It was still fine.”

   His response to that was a small grunt of amusement, and then he kissed my shoulder before resting his cheek against it. He knew perfectly well that it had been more than “fine.” It was still wondrous to me that I could feel so many things. And it was almost more extraordinary to have any space of time when the world simplified to just me and him. No machinations. No half-truths. No arguing. Of course, there was also no acknowledgment of what would happen with us in the future. Through some unspoken agreement, we were ignoring that detail.

   We let ourselves stay entangled in that contentment for a while until Grant finally asked, “Are you okay?”

   “You’re still worried about that? Do I really need to elaborate on ‘fine’?”

   “No, not that. Tamsin.”

   Her name cut through the spell that had wrapped around me, and I felt a sudden pain in my chest. What right did I have to this warmth and security when Tamsin was . . . what? What was she? Where was she? Cold? Alone? Still in this world?

   “I’m sorry,” he said when I didn’t answer. The words were for my loss, I realized, not for bringing her up.

   “She’s not dead,” I said vehemently. I rolled over and saw the skepticism in his eyes. “She’s not! She’s a survivor. She’s somewhere . . . I don’t know where . . . but not dead!”

   “Okay, okay. Then what happened to her?”

   “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But the whole story is so strange. She wouldn’t have panicked and run away. And those rangers didn’t find any trace of her at all. Even with the storm, there should have been something.”

   Who was I trying to convince? Me or him? He didn’t push the issue anymore, but I knew he still had his doubts. And no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, some of my own gnawed at me too. The storm had wreaked destruction everywhere. I had to acknowledge the very real possibility that fate hadn’t spared her a second time.

   Silence fell over us, but I didn’t expect it to last. Grant couldn’t help himself. Even happy and at peace in a moment like this, his mind couldn’t stop spinning.

   “Are you engaged yet?” His face and tone were forcibly neutral.

   “No. But I don’t know how long that’ll last. I don’t have enough to pay off the contract myself. I can’t even pay off Lonzo’s bond yet.”

   “How much has your alter ego earned?”

   “Fifteen. And there won’t be any more. That’s done.” I could tell Grant wanted some elaboration, but I stayed tight-lipped. “And I really should’ve told you about that. About all of it. Rupert Chambers and Lady Aviel.”

   “No,” Grant said after waiting a beat. “Not if you weren’t ready. And I shouldn’t have attacked you for it.” He let that hang between us a moment more. “So. Money. You’ll have fifty from the case.”

   I had to retrain myself to keep up with his abrupt topic changes. “I’m not part of the case anymore.”

   “You’re part of it,” he said firmly.

   “Well, it doesn’t look like it’s getting wrapped up anytime soon.”

   He didn’t deny it. “I can give you twenty-five.”

   “Twenty-five?” I studied his face for some sign of a joke. “What happened to not having five to your name?”

   “I wasn’t at Molly Siegel’s because I liked spending extra time with the patrol.”

   I sat up in shock. “You risked what money you did have on a poker game?”

   He looked ridiculously smug. “Lots of poker games, actually—well, until I got banned after the Flower Fest. Twenty-five would go a long way for you.”

   “I’d almost have Lonzo’s bond. Not enough for my own contract, though.” Still, a surge of excitement shot through me. Forty gold. So close to Lonzo’s freedom. But then . . . “No, I can’t. I can’t accept that. It’s yours. Don’t worry about me. Just focus on figuring out this conspiracy. I still get the money that way, and you can go back to the Balanquans.”

   Grant shifted away, onto his back, and stared upward. “I should’ve told you about that before . . . everything.”

   “Not if you weren’t ready.” He smiled at his words being echoed back. “And I was so worked up, I didn’t really hear what you were saying. I heard, but I didn’t understand. I do now, and . . . I think you should do it. You need to reclaim that piece of you that was lost. It’s just that . . . I’ll miss you.”

   Even just in profile, I could see the astonishment in his face. He kept his eyes trained upward. “The eastern part of the Empire is beautiful. It’s where all the cities are, all the art and culture. The ambassadors will visit there, but I’ve heard they’ll spend most of their time in the west. It’s less settled out there. Colder, wilder. But still beautiful. You’d like it.”