Flickers of Flame Page 5

  “See? You just kind of glide the cue forward,” Nate said, oblivious to the effect his nearness was having on me.

  I fought to keep my breathing even as I followed his lead on how to move the cue. After a few trial runs, he urged me to use more force, sending the cue ball slamming into the striped one beyond. An unaccustomed lightness filled my chest as I watched the striped ball tumble into the pocket. “I did it.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Nate agreed, straightening. He pointed to a yellow and white ball at the other end of the table. “Now, if I were you, I’d try for that one next.”

  I shifted position, trying to identify the best angle of attack. I attempted to apply all the principles I’d noticed when Bridger had taken his shots, but nothing seemed to line up the right way.

  After giving me the space to try to figure it out, Nate drew near again. “Try this.” His hand cupped my hip as he repositioned me along the side of the table. I held my breath, doing my best to focus as he showed me where to aim.

  The shot went off as flawlessly as the last, and I picked out the next shot by myself. When I sank my third ball in a row, Nate held up his hand for a high five. I slapped it gratefully, grinning as I turned toward Bridger. “Maybe I can give you a run for your money after…” My voice trailed as I failed to locate the game’s third player. I spun on my heel, but no matter where I looked, Bridger wasn’t there.

  “He took off a while ago,” Nate said, scratching absently above his eyebrow with his thumb nail. “He doesn’t have the greatest patience for teaching during a game. Besides, he already sank all his balls but the eight. He’s probably checking on the popcorn situation.”

  I peered at the hall beyond the room we stood in, but everything seemed still. For all I knew, we were the only two people on this level of the student center. “Is he coming back?”

  Nate shrugged. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s gone for the night. He gets bored when the focus is on something other than his unrivaled pool talents.” He tipped his head, studying me with his deep brown eyes. “Why? You worried about being alone with me?”

  My throat went dry. Although we’d spent the last several nights alone together in the training gym, something about being here was different. Despite his earlier assertion that playing pool applied to sparring, the fact remained that pool was a game. And being alone with Nate while playing a game was entirely different from being alone to train.

  In short, yes—I was very worried about being alone with Nate.

  Chapter Seven

  I forced a laugh. “What? Of course I’m not worried.”

  His mouth tilted in a grin. “I’ll rack, and you can show me what you’ve got without Bridger not-so-silently judging in the background.”

  Before I could respond, Nate was collecting balls from pockets and setting them all in the black plastic triangle. As he worked, I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for needing to go, but I kept coming up empty. If I insisted we leave here, he might suggest we head to the gym for proper training, and I couldn’t very well say no to that without looking suspicious.

  Besides, if I couldn’t handle some alone time with Nate, I wasn’t much of a spy, was I? He had been a Keeper longer than any of the others; there was no telling what information he had learned in that time. He said himself he’d attended countless parties with senators and generals. He was probably a treasure trove of overheard details.

  But as Nate finished racking the balls and took the first shot, any questions bubbling in my mind about medical advisory committees or Languo treatment storage facilities scattered like the spheres on the table. He began narrating his shots, laying out his thought process and pointing out things I hadn’t noticed. By the time he finally missed, I felt more confident about how to approach the table. It was as if by describing how he saw things, he had imparted the knowledge to me. Even without his direct guidance, I sank my first shot. I got a bad bounce off the second, but the error didn’t smart like it had during the last game.

  Nate won the first game and, without asking, racked the balls for another. I did marginally better during the second game, but something snapped into place during the third, and I ended up beating him.

  “That was awesome,” Nate cheered, lifting his arm for the second high-five of the night. “It looks like you’re starting to get the hang of it.”

  His palm was warm against mine, and the same sparks as before fired on my skin. Although he’d kept a polite distance during the games, now he was close enough that I could see the difference in color between his pupils and his irises. Warmth spread through my chest, and it struck me that a high five didn’t normally last so long. Even so, I couldn’t make myself extricate my hand from beneath the gentle curl of Nate’s fingers.

  “It might not feel like it,” Nate said, his voice barely above a whisper, “but you’re doing very well.”

  “A pool prodigy.” I tried to say it like a joke, but his closeness was making my head swim.

  “Not just the pool,” he continued. “Your fighting technique is improving. You seem to be keeping up in our other classes. I’d say I’m proud of you, but I’m afraid it would come across as kind of condescending.”

  Ordinarily, I’d agree with him. If Derek had ever expressed pride over something I’d done, I would have rolled my eyes. But, coming from Nate, the sentiment filled me with warmth. “Not at all. I mean, you’re the leader of the team, right?”

  “For now.” He glanced at our clasped hands, still hanging in midair. “You probably want this back, don’t you?”

  The warmth seeping into my skin from his palm was like a paralytic that kept me frozen in place. I needed to back away until my head stopped feeling so fuzzy. I wanted to tell him that yes, I needed my hand back.

  But what I said was, “It’s okay. I have another.”

  A smile broke across Nate’s face. Firming his grip, he dropped both our hands to a more natural position hanging between us. “I’m really glad to hear you say that.”

  Warning bells rang in my head. I needed to put some space between us. Lots of space. I should release his hand and make an excuse to head to my room and stay there until I forgot the way being this close to Nate made my skin tingle and my heart race. This was dangerous. Liza had been clear—be friendly, but don’t get too close.

  But even as I made the arguments in my mind, I couldn’t break away. I refuted each point. This was just part of me gaining Nate’s trust. Nothing more.

  When he dipped his head, I didn’t move away. As if it had a mind of its own, my chin lifted by degrees.

  And then Nate’s lips were on mine. An explosion of glittering light rocketed through me, and nothing existed in the world but the softness of Nate’s lips, the warm pressure of his arm as it wrapped around my back, the muscled length of his body as it molded to mine.

  I only realized he released my hand when it found its way to the back of his neck to skate through the silky threads of his hair.

  Time stood still as I remained enveloped in his embrace. A nebulous though nagged at the edge of my awareness, but not only could I not focus on it, I didn’t want to. For the first time I could remember, every worry melted away, replaced by a peace so encompassing I never wanted it to end.

  But end it did—and so abruptly it was as if someone had doused my body in ice water. Nate sprang back, leaving a chilly void where his body had been. He stared toward the doorway, his eyes narrowed with focus.

  I caught my breath, doing my best to take stock of myself. But identifying how I felt proved impossible. My brain was a glob of hazy mush and it took all my concentration to keep from closing the distance between myself and Nate. “What’s wrong?”

  For a few seconds, he didn’t react. Finally, after a slow blink and a shake of his head, he turned his attention to me, his lips twitching but not quite holding a smile. “Nothing. I just… I thought I heard someone.”

  A prickle of discomfort inched down my spine, but I did my best not to let it sh
ow. “What? Afraid someone might catch us?”

  He frowned, making me think I’d hit closer to the mark than he would’ve liked. “It’s not that,” he said, sounding apologetic. “But there are codes of conduct to consider, not to mention…”

  “Optics?” I guessed.

  He winced at the word. “It’s… It’s complicated.”

  The warmth and peace that had flooded my body only moments before evaporated like a shallow puddle in the desert, replaced with the cold ache of failure. I needed to get a hold of myself. Kissing Nate was a means to an end; I couldn’t let myself get caught up in it.

  His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “We should probably head back to the dorms. On nights like this when everyone is out, the infraction patrols do more sweeps.”

  I rolled my shoulders as if it didn’t matter to me one way or the other. “Of course.”

  We didn’t speak as we strode through the halls toward the main doorway. Once outside, I expected him to peel off toward the guys’ dorm, but he kept pace with me as I made my way toward the other side of the quad. He stayed so close that the backs of our hands brushed every few steps but he made no move to lace his fingers through mine.

  I wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing.

  A few groups students wandered near the dorm buildings, but they were far enough away that no one seemed to notice our appearance. By the time we were even with the fountain, we were the only ones left outside.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when we turned onto the sidewalk in front of the girls’ dorms.

  Embarrassment surged like bile in my throat, and I struggled to swallow it down. I didn’t need an apology. So what if the kiss had meant nothing to Nate? I’d been using him, too. We were square.

  Still, I couldn’t make myself turn to face him.

  Nate’s pace lagged for a few moments, forcing him to jog to catch up with me when I reached the door. “Eden, wait.”

  Something in me softened at the sound of my name on his lips. I should have continued into the building without looking back, but a moment of hesitation was all it took to get me to stop and face him. I sighed. “Okay, so you’re sorry.”

  He bit his lower lip. “Yes. Well, yes and no.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. As much as I wanted to go up to my room and forget tonight ever happened, part of me needed to hear whatever explanation Nate seemed so desperate to give. “Am I not supposed to point out that you can’t be sorry and not sorry at the same time?”

  He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  I bristled at his vagueness. “Whatever. You’re sorry you kissed me. Fine. Maybe it’s best if we don’t spend time alone together anymore. Wouldn’t want you to end up sorry again.” I turned my attention to the gym building in the distance, already missing the time we spent training one-on-one. During our scheduled training time, I always felt like I was being judged. Even if no one said anything, I could feel a weight drape around my shoulders with every mistake I made. But it was different when Nate and I were alone. Even when he pointed out my errors, he had a way of making me feel like I was still doing something right. “The tryouts are soon, anyway.”

  “They’re tomorrow,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. “That’s why I’m so mad I let things get out of hand. I don’t want anything to mess with your concentration out there.”

  The reminder sent my mind reeling. How had I lost track of the day? I straightened my back, trying to play it cool. “And you’re afraid that kiss will screw up my concentration?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “Well, I know it’ll be screwing with mine.” He cast a quick glance around before taking a step closer. “I like you, Eden. A lot.”

  A flush of pleasure rose in me, and not even Liza’s warnings could combat it.

  “Even the day we met, there was something about you. You were confident in a way I’ve never seen. Commanding, even. And so compassionate. I figured I’d never see you after that, but now you’re here and…”

  “It’s complicated?” I offered.

  He nodded, a wrinkle of concern forming between his eyebrows.

  I closed the remaining distance between the two of us, and before I could stop myself, my hand was on his forearm. Nate liked me. And no matter how much I tried to fight it, I felt something for him, too. But whatever was happening between us couldn’t last. I had the Aether Blade’s loyalty, but the two of us still belonged to very different worlds. Allowing myself to indulge in this distraction only increased the likelihood that someone would find that out.

  Still, despite the dangers, I didn’t regret our kiss. “In my experience, most things are pretty complicated.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted over his lips and he covered my hand with his. “You’ll be great tomorrow. I’ve seen what you can do, and I think you’re going to surprise people with how amazing you are.”

  “I had a good teacher,” I murmured. But when Nate grinned, I added, “Anders might be a little stuck up, but he sure knows his stuff.”

  In a flash, Nate darted forward, poking me in the stomach until I yelped with giggles. Trying to fend him off, I backed away until we were outside the bright circle cast by the light over the door. Standing almost directly between two decorative cone-shaped shrubs that reached over my head, I felt like a criminal getting ready to burgle the dorms.

  “I should let you get some sleep so you’re ready for tomorrow.” Nate lifted his hand and brushed some hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ear.

  I shivered and leaned into his touch. Although things were complicated—more complicated than Nate could know—I didn’t want him to leave. The truth sent my heart stuttering in my chest as he leaned down until our lips met again. The kiss was more urgent this time, laced with the adrenaline that came from being outside where anyone might see us. Although partially obscured by the darkness and the bushes, we weren’t entirely invisible.

  When Nate finally broke away, it was in stages, peppering me with several quick pecks before he stepped away and bid me a final goodnight.

  I barely felt my feet as I floated to my room. My lips tingled, and I was glad I didn’t run into anyone in the hallway because I was sure they’d be able to tell what I’d been up to just by looking at me.

  As I pulled a fresh set of pajamas out of my dresser, my eyes skimmed over the return air vent. What would Liza think if she knew what happened tonight? Could I convince her my intentions were strategic? I wasn’t even sure I believed that.

  I was playing with fire, and I knew it. There was no future for Nate and me. There couldn’t be. And while using Nate’s emotions to lower his guard might prove useful for gathering intel, I could only be effective if my emotions weren’t also involved. A play like this would have been smarter with Bridger or Thor. It wouldn’t mean anything with them.

  But I couldn’t deny that kisses from Nate meant something—even if I wasn’t sure what. And that made this move all the more dangerous.

  But that didn’t mean I wanted to stop.

  Chapter Eight

  My mind sparked with an epiphany the next morning. It was actually a good thing Nate kissed me last night.

  I didn’t seek him out. I didn’t initiate any of this. He showed up at the gym on his own to train me; I didn’t ask. All those facts would draw off suspicion. Nate couldn’t accuse me of drawing close to him for nefarious reasons when he was the one making all the moves.

  My mission was to get as much information about the Guard and the senate as possible, and no cadet had more experience with those things as Nate. Getting close to him was a wise move, strategically.

  The kisses were a bonus.

  I dressed in my uniform, laced up my boots, and headed out the door early enough that I would make it to the cafeteria before the doors even opened. Glittering in the early morning light, the academy buildings seemed like something out of a fairy tale—like magic really could occur here on the grounds.

  I hadn’t made it more th
an a few yards from the dorm when a familiar voice called my name. I turned, smiling, as Clio jogged to catch up.

  “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” she asked as she fell into step beside me. “It’s crazy—I’ve been through like a dozen of these things before, but somehow they still make me nervous.”

  Although I knew that today’s tryouts should be at the forefront of my mind, I couldn’t force myself to focus on them for more than a few moments at a time. But Clio might wonder what was going on with me if I couldn’t at least pretend to be interested. “Any idea what we might be up against today?”

  “Plenty,” she said, “but there’s no telling exactly what’s in store. I will say this, though—the tryout is usually the most exciting thing about the whole experience. Sometimes I wonder if they don’t dangle these field opportunities in front of us just to test our skills in whatever course they’ve cooked up.”

  “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever gone up against during one of these things?”

  Clio pursed her lips as she considered the question. “The ten-on-one battle was pretty nuts.”

  I stopped short. “Ten? Like you against ten people?”

  She nodded. “It sounds like a lot, but really, once you get past about one versus three, the techniques are all the same. It just takes a little longer to finish the fight.”

  She sounded so matter-of-fact about it, I couldn’t argue. “Okay, so a ten-on-one fight. Anything else?”

  Clio bit her lower lip. “Once we had to scale a wall. Twenty feet, I think? And then jump from there to a platform eight feet away.”

  For the first time since I’d awoken, a tendril of dread curled in my stomach. During our late night training sessions, Nate hadn’t mentioned the possibility of facing anything like what Clio was describing. He had focused on form and technique, insisting such knowledge would be enough to get me through. But now that assertion seemed ludicrous. Every student at Blakethorne trained in weapons and fighting techniques. Every student here was more skilled than I was in those areas by merit of having done them longer.