“We’re called liaisons. And that depends on what you want to know.”
“Name, how you met. That kind of stuff.”
“His name was Raoul, and we met at my uncle’s fishing cabin.” By his expression, that reply skirted the edge of what he was permitted to tell me. It didn’t encourage more questions about what happened that day.
“Did you like him?”
Half smile. “I didn’t ask him to kiss me, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Are you still in contact with him?”
His smile faded. “No.”
“What was he like?”
“You’ve seen Highlander, right?”
That was a rhetorical question; I could see that he knew I’d watched it a hundred times and owned the director’s cut DVD. But I nodded anyway.
“Ramirez. He was like Ramirez.”
I pictured a rugged guy with silver hair and a salt-and-pepper beard, clapping Kian on the shoulder and telling him to stop whining. “It must’ve been … epic.”
“It kinda was.”
“No wonder you took the deal.”
Our food arrived then. We ate in silence while I mulled a loophole that would let him spend the day with me—without burning another favor. I wasn’t that dumb.
“Most people do,” he said eventually.
“What’s the most common favor requested?”
“Money.”
“I should’ve guessed. What if I need your help to research a potential request in ways unavailable to me? Is that allowed?”
He leveled a long look on me. “Edie … don’t rush the other two favors. Seriously.”
What are you trying to tell me with those eyes? I held his gaze, unable to access higher logical functions. When he went back to eating, I felt like I’d been freed from a spell. Kian casts level 50 hotness. Failed my saving throw.
“I won’t,” I said, low.
“But…” He hesitated, as if weighing what he was about to say. “If you need help with something contract-related, I’ll provide it. Part of the job.”
“It could take all day,” I said.
This is a bad idea trembled on the tip of his tongue; I saw it hovering and then he said, “My schedule’s clear.”
“You have other clients?”
“Never more than five at a time.”
I squirreled that away with the small store of information I’d gleaned. So he had four people, like me, who had been saved in extremis. I wondered how many favors they’d requested, how old they were, how often he saw them, and if he’d kissed any of them. Likely, there was a confidentiality clause; he seemed constrained by all kinds of rules.
“Before, you mentioned monitoring? How often—”
“I don’t know,” he cut in. “And that’s sort of the point. It’s meant to keep me honest and on task.”
“Is it like when you call the phone company and they tell you your call may be recorded for your protection and in order to provide better service?”
“More or less.”
This was frustrating. I wanted to get to know him, but he’d already said he wasn’t permitted to share personal information. I didn’t want to get him in trouble, or worse, removed from my contract. That meant I’d never see him again. And he must feel the same or he wouldn’t be cooperating, especially against his better judgment.
“If I’m pushing, just tell me. I won’t break.”
I did once. It won’t happen again.
“It’s not that,” he said quietly.
His gaze slipped to his watch, which was unlike any I’d ever seen before. The face sparkled with an unusual crystal, and there were multiple buttons along the side. I could tell I was meant to take a cue from the significant look, so I studied it, but no immediate answers came to me. Then I dug into my backpack for pen and paper. I didn’t know what form the monitoring might take; there was a guy on my block who was convinced the government could eavesdrop from space via satellite.
I wrote, What does the watch have to do with how they track you?
Kian leaned over, read, and then replied, It logs everything. They can use it to listen in, anytime they want. It also records my power usage, and there are accountants who resolve my output against the favors I’ve granted.
That sounded horrible. Can you take it off?
Face grim, he shook his head, and then told me with a tilt of his head to put the paper away before someone got curious. We had been quiet too long. Before, he’d mentioned his headquarters, but claimed he didn’t want to take me there because it might freak me out. I was starting to understand why. The shadowy people Kian worked for—with their incredible power and oppressive control—didn’t sound like they offered severance packages, unless you meant head from neck.
I realized I might be endangering him with my pursuit, and that shook me. So I finished my food while asking harmless questions about the deal. Relief warred with regret in his expression. Futile wishes rode high in his eyes as he paid the check. With an inner twist, I slid out of the booth.
“You can take me home. My questions didn’t take as long as I thought. And I need to think before requesting my next favor.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
While he might be willing to gamble that he wouldn’t get caught bending the rules, I wasn’t. I nodded. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Kian led the way from the restaurant, and like before, he found a quiet alcove, where he took my hand. The world skipped, like we were moving too fast for me to see, and I had that same sense of velocity in my stomach, when I stuttered back into existence in the alley a few blocks from my apartment. He still had my things, so I reached for them. I didn’t want to let go of his hand because I didn’t know when I’d see him again, but I made myself uncurl my fingers.
He pressed a square of paper into my palm, but he didn’t acknowledge the move verbally. “Can you manage your stuff from here?” Polite tone, professional.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll see you.” As farewells went, it was anemic and lackluster, but his eyes said other things.
Or maybe I just wanted them to.
Stop it, I told myself. You had that one kiss, and that’s the end of it. You’re lucky he didn’t get caught.
I took two steps out of the alley, and when I glanced over my shoulder, he was already gone. It was just as well; I had a lot on my plate. School would be starting in ten days. I had new uniforms to buy, supplies to acquire—then I stopped because I couldn’t bullshit myself for another second. I had to read the note he’d written.