Текст книги "The Fiery Heart"

Автор книги: Richelle Mead

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

“Why not what?”

“Why can’t I talk about Angeline?”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes.”

“You know, the other day at lunch, we were all talking about spring break plans, and she suddenly started going off about how meerkats aren’t cats at all and how zoologists should really rename them because it could cause a lot of trouble if someone took one home as a pet.” I eyed Trey carefully. “What do you think of that?”

His expression softened as a smile filled his face. “It cracks me up. No, I love it. I know this stuff sounds so crazy, but it’s just because everything is so new to her, you know? We take everything for granted, but when I’m with her, I see the world through new eyes. She makes my world better. It’s why she’s so great.” He suddenly snapped to attention. “Why do you have such a big grin on your face?”

“Because you’re talking about how you feel about Angeline.”

“So?” he asked suspiciously.

“I asked you not to.”

“You did?”

The door to the garage opened, and Adrian appeared. He’d had to stay on campus late and was only just now able to join us. “You still giving out tattoos, Sage? You up for my skeleton pirate?” He glanced between our faces. “What’s going on?”

I laughed and clasped my hands together in front of my chest. “It worked. The salt ink negated the other ink. It undid the compulsion! The human magic triumphed.”

Trey arched an eyebrow. “Do I really want to know the details here?”

I surprised him with a quick hug. “The details are that you just helped prove a major discovery. One that’s going to help a lot of people.”

He still looked understandably puzzled. “Just as long as you didn’t do any lasting damage.”

“You’re free and clear to go to the movie with us,” I said.

“We’re all friends, though,” said Trey quickly.

“Absolutely,” I said.

He had a shift soon and was able to talk to us only a little while longer. Once he was gone, I threw myself into Adrian’s arms and he spun me around.

“My brilliant girl,” he said. “You did it.”

I brushed my lips against his cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Me? I’m not the one who conned her way into getting illicit ingredients, scored a test subject, and learned to use a tattoo machine in a week.”

“You were moral support,” I said. “The most important job of all. And now that I know it works, I’ve got to go make more ink for when Marcus shows up. Keep me company.”

Marcus had sent word to Adrian via Sabrina that he’d be in town next week. I’d been making extra ink whenever I could get a free moment and wasn’t going to waste this one. I had to give Marcus his best fighting chance. Ms. Terwilliger was working in her kitchen when we came back into the house. She waved and assured me I could use her workroom. Although she didn’t understand my project exactly, she had no problem sharing her space and letting me store things. Adrian had come by a number of times in the past, and like tonight, he sat near me and quietly did his own work while I did mine. It was warm and comfortable and almost  normal.

“Isn’t it weird?” he said, glancing up as I measured salt. “All the variety that life offers? Here we sit, me reading expressions of creativity.” He held up the poetry book, which to my dismay, was now worn and dog‑eared. “And you doing scientific and magical calculations. We’re thinking, cerebral beings one minute . . . and the next, completely given over to physical acts of passion. How do we do that? Back and forth, mind and body? How can creatures like us go from extreme to extreme?”

“Because that’s what we do,” I said, smiling. I was really glad the pills hadn’t muted philosopher Adrian. I loved listening to him go off on these flights of fancy. “And it’s not necessarily extreme. I mean, what we did yesterday at your place . . . well, maybe it was a ‘physical act of passion,’ but it was also very  creative. Who says mind and body can’t work together?”

He unfolded himself from his chair and walked over to me. “Fair point. And if memory serves, it was my genius that came up with that.”

I set down my materials. “It was not. That was all me.”

“There’s only one way to settle this.” His arms encircled my waist, and he pressed me against the table. “We need to surpass that creativity. Are you thinking what I am?”

“That Ms. Terwilliger’s in the next room?” But my pulse had quickened at the feel of him against me, and I was already figuring out how to clear the table.

He pulled away and shut the workroom’s door. “She’s discreet,” he said. “And smart. She’ll knock first.”

I almost thought he was joking until he grabbed hold of me again and seated me on the table, wrapping my legs around him. Our lips met hungrily as his deft artist’s fingers began working at the buttons on my shirt. A sudden buzz from my regular cell phone startled me from the kissing.

“Don’t,” said Adrian, his eyes ablaze and breathing ragged.

“What if there’s a crisis at school?” I asked. “What if Angeline ‘accidentally’ stole one of the campus shuttle buses and drove it into the library?”

“Why would she do that?”

“Are you saying she wouldn’t?”

He sighed. “Go check it.”

I hopped off the table, clothes askew, and found the message was actually from Neil, of all people. We still need to talk. Can you meet tonight? Somewhere private? It’s important.

“Huh,” I said. I showed Adrian the message.

He was equally puzzled. “Do you know what it’s about?”

“No, he mentioned it when we first got back to town.” The heat between us was cooling, and I began buttoning my shirt back up. “What if it’s about me using magic?”

Adrian had grown serious. “No, I don’t think so. I could tell. He’s not going to talk about it to anyone.”

“I should find out, though. If something’s wrong . . . well, I’m the one who ultimately deals with it.” I knelt down to put my supplies away on the shelves Ms. Terwilliger had allotted to me. “This could be important. Besides, it is  getting late.”

“You know what else is important? Your birthday in a few days. Are you going to get shore leave?”

I smiled as I straightened up. “I don’t know. Zoe’s going to want to do something with me. We might be able to manage a group outing you could go on.”

He put his arms around me. “Not good enough. I want you–just you–over at my place, where I’m going to cook you the most amazing dinner you’ve ever had by someone who can’t really cook. And then . . . we’re going to get in my car.”

I waited for him to elaborate on a destination. “And?”

He gently kissed the nape of my neck. “What do you think?”

I couldn’t help a small gasp of delight. “Oh, wow.”

“I know, right? I was racking my brain for the best present ever, and then I realized that nothing was going to rock your world more than you and me in your favorite place in the entire world.”

I swallowed. “I’m kind of embarrassed at how excited I am about that.” Never had I guessed my love of cars would play a role in my sex life. Eddie was right. Something had happened to me.

“It’s okay, Sage. We’ve all got our turn‑ons.”

“You kind of ruined the surprise, though.”

“Nah. It’s part of the gift: you getting to think about it for the next three days. Figure it’s incentive for you to escape Zoe too.”

“Excellent incentive.”

We kissed goodbye, and I set up Neil’s meeting. The private place he wanted to meet was a cluster of trees near the library. They were technically off‑limits, especially this time of night, but if we were caught, we could claim we were cutting through to the library. With my studious reputation, no one would question it.

Surprisingly, he was late, which didn’t seem in character. When he finally arrived, he looked chagrined. “Sorry. Angeline kept following me around, and I had a hard time shaking her.”

“She likes you, you know.” I didn’t feel bad pointing it out because he had to know. “Or, well, she likes the idea of you. She wants you as a theoretical rebound.”

“What in the world is that? Never mind.” He shook his head. “I don’t have time for anything like that.”

I wondered if he’d have time for something “like that” with Olive if she lived closer.

“So what’s going on?” I braced myself for some sort of interrogation about the magic. What came instead nearly knocked me over.

“I need you to help me go after a Strigoi.”

Silence fell between us for several strained moments. “You’re going to need to elaborate on that.”

Neil pointed at his arm, where the tattoo was. “Everyone’s so excited about this, but what does it mean? Is it worth anything? We’re never going to find out unless we test it with a Strigoi.”

I was aghast. I’d known that, of course, but proactively pursuing it wasn’t something I’d really expected to happen. “You want to be turned?”

“No, no. Of course not. Here’s the thing. I was looking through some guardian reports, and there have been sightings of Strigoi in this neighborhood in Los Angeles.”

I wasn’t surprised by that. There were always Strigoi in Los Angeles.

“One Strigoi, actually,” Neil continued. “I want to find him and lure him out before others go after him. They know his patterns enough now that it’s going to happen sooner or later. Usually, he just drinks and kills, but there’ve been reports that he sometimes turns victims. Either way, if we use me as bait, he’ll have to taste my blood, and we can find out what kind of reaction he has.”

It was one of those things that seemed so logical on the surface, I was almost on board. There were just a few flaws. “If the tattoo doesn’t work, you end up dead or Strigoi.”

“That’s where you come in,” he said excitedly. “That thing you did with the fire–”

“Neil–”

He held up his hand. “No, no. I’m not telling anyone. I’m not even going to ask you how you did it. But if you could hide somewhere nearby and make that fire again, you could incinerate him before he does anything to me.” A little of Neil’s enthusiasm dimmed. “And if he does manage to turn me, then you can kill us both.”

“Neil! Do you hear yourself? This is insane. You’re literally talking about suicide.”

His gaze met mine through the shadows. “Yes, and my life would be a small thing to give in order to obtain these answers. And that’s not melodrama. I know some of you–especially Adrian–think I’m ridiculous and over the top, but I swear, service to the Moroi is my highest goal. I want what’s best for our people. All we’re doing now is waiting . . . which is the same as doing nothing. If we could pull this off, it could be the breakthrough everyone keeps talking about.”

I had to look away. It was all crazy . . . but there was some sense to it. “I understand your point, but if you want to toy with Strigoi, go get it sanctioned by the guardians. Let them arrange something.”

“Do you think they’d let me do this?” I didn’t answer because I doubted they would. “Exactly. That was a lot of fire you summoned that night. Do you think you could engulf a Strigoi with it?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “But I’m really not comfortable being all that stands between you and damnation.”

“You won’t be.” Neil pointed behind me. “Right on time.”

I turned and saw a very puzzled‑looking Eddie striding toward us. “Hey, I got your message,” he said. “What’s going on?”

Incredibly, Neil began the same sales pitch to Eddie about sacrificing for the greater good of the Moroi. Neil didn’t mention me and magic, but his offer to Eddie was the same, how there’d be need for someone to stop the Strigoi if things got out of hand. Actually, there was no “if,” I decided. “When” was a better word.

I think Eddie was even more shocked than I was. “No!”

“Eddie,” said Neil in a calm voice. “I know we have our differences, but the truth is, I respect you. I think you’re one of the greatest guardians I’ve ever met, and you’ve done more in your life so far than most seasoned guardians ever will. You and Sydney are the ideal team to have at my back. You have to understand how important this is. It’s true I’ve never fought a Strigoi, but I’ve seen them kill. When I was young.” His expression darkened. “I still dream about it, and if there’s even a tiny thing we can do to stop those monsters, we have to. Just think if we could prevent the conversion of more!”

Eddie wasn’t swayed, and there was a look on his face I’d never seen before. “I’m not denying the principles, but it’s too dangerous. And not just to you. I did something like this once . . .” A pain so intense that it tore at my heart crossed Eddie’s features. “Me and some friends. We thought we could take on Strigoi . . . and my best friend ended up dead. No matter how prepared you think you are, even against only one, the unexpected can happen. You and I may not be enough. Certainly Sydney isn’t–no offense. We’d need more to tip the odds in our favor.”

Neil suddenly looked at me expectantly. It took me a few seconds to realize what he wanted. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“I won’t,” he agreed. “But I thought you might want to. If you don’t, I’ll let it go. Do you think Eddie will betray you?”

Both of them were watching me intently, and I kind of wanted to smack Neil. He’d been true to his honor . . . in a loose sense. After hearing his speech twice, I was almost swayed by it. Maybe it was because I was high on the triumph of Trey’s tattoo working. How great would it be to accomplish another feat so many people were depending on? And if Eddie was involved, one Strigoi seemed feasible.

But it’d mean telling Eddie my secret, and too many already knew. The old saying came back to me: Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.  The more this got out, the more trouble I was in.

And yet, as I looked into Eddie’s steady gaze, I was reminded of our friendship and all we’d been through. In a world of secrets and lies, there were few I could thoroughly trust anymore, but I knew then, without a doubt, that Eddie was one I could.

Taking a deep breath, hoping I wasn’t being a fool, I held out my hand. A nervous glance around confirmed we were alone, and I brought forth a spark of fire in my palm that soon grew into the size of a tennis ball.

Eddie leaned over and gasped, the orange flames reflecting off his face. “Maybe . . . maybe our odds have gotten better,” he said.

CHAPTER 19

ADRIAN

IT WAS SYDNEY’S BIRTHDAY, and my car wouldn’t start.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, turning the key for what felt like the hundredth time. The engine churned and churned but wouldn’t turn over. I groaned and rested my forehead against the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”

“Problems?”

I looked up and saw Rowena standing outside the driver’s side door, which I’d left ajar. I threw my hands up. “As you can see.”

She tilted her head to study the car, causing some of her lavender braids to slip forward. “How old is this piece of junk?”

“Bite your tongue, woman. Sydney loves this car. Maybe more than she loves me. Besides, you’re an artist. Figured you’d appreciate a vintage piece. You know, the history, the craftsmanship . . .”

She shook her head. “I drive a Prius.”

I tried to start the Mustang again. No luck. “Damn it, not today of all days. It’s Sydney’s birthday. We had plans.”

“Call a tow, and I’ll give you a ride back home.” She patted my shoulder in sympathy. “I know a guy who works at a shop. He’ll give you a good deal.”

“Not that good,” I said, getting out my cell phone. “Unless it’s free. I’m pretty much broke for the next week and a half.”

“I assume because you got her some sort of extravagant gift?”

“Not exactly. It’s a long story.”

I’d actually come to terms with not being able to shower Sydney with gifts. I was no longer depressed over it or worried I’d have to sell Aunt Tatiana’s cuff links. The pills probably helped with that, but I knew there was more. Between Jill’s pep talk and what had happened in Pennsylvania, excessive material goods no longer held the appeal they had. Would I have loved to drape Sydney in diamonds? Sure, but I didn’t need to. There were far more important things between us. I was content to make her dinner and just savor time alone with her. That was what mattered now. Just us.

Of course, I’d planned on some of this aforementioned alone time taking place in my car, which now seemed to be out of commission. Maybe I no longer plunged to not‑getting‑out‑of‑bed levels of despair, but I could get as down as anyone about a failed plan. I said little as Rowena waited with me in the campus parking lot and mostly just let my dark mood simmer around me.

“You’re a poster boy for a brooding artist,” she teased me. “You take classes to learn to do that?”

“Nah, it’s a gift I was born with.”

She grinned and elbowed me. “Cheer up. I’ll take you wherever you need to go. We’ll salvage this day, kiddo.”

It was hard to stay too glum in the face of her sunny disposition. More than that, I could hardly have Sydney come over tonight just to find me pouting. She’d had to pull off a miracle to escape Zoe tonight and postpone a sisterly celebration. She probably could’ve saved herself a lot of stress by just postponing her festivities with me, but it meant something to me to celebrate on the actual day. I had pushed for this night, and now I had to make it work.

A tow truck hauled the Ivashkinator away, and Rowena and I were able to head back to town. I’d scraped the last of my money together to buy food for tonight’s dinner, and Rowena nearly had a heart attack when we arrived at a grocery store and she heard what I was buying.

“Frozen lasagna? An store‑bought cake? I thought you loved this girl!”

“I do, but I’m no culinary student.”

“Cassie is.”

“Well, she’s not here.”

Rowena sighed and got out her phone. “Honestly, it’s a wonder you got by before me.”

An hour later, Cassie met Rowena and me at my apartment, carrying a bag of groceries. I watched as they unloaded all sorts of ingredients I’d never dream of using, like andouille and okra. There was also a bottle of white wine.

“Sydney doesn’t drink,” I told them.

“Whatever,” said Cassie, getting out a corkscrew. “This is for me while I cook.”

Rowena winced. After our outing to that bar, I was pretty sure Rowena thought I should be in a recovery group. Maybe she was right. I could tell she was about to chastise Cassie for drinking, and I waved it off.

“I’m fine.” To my surprise, I realized it was true. “Far be it from me to do anything that would interfere with a cook’s genius.”

Cassie glanced up from her glass. “Hey, you’re going to help. I’m not making this gumbo alone.”

“When I think romantic birthday dinners, I don’t think soup.”

“Soup?” She nearly choked on her wine. “You think this is mere soup? I needed something you can’t mess up while you’re waiting for her to get here. This is going to get better and better the more it simmers, and when she does arrive and taste it, she’ll be yours forever. You’re welcome.”

Despite her claims, Cassie didn’t actually make me do that much. I think she was afraid I’d mess it up, though I really did try to pay attention in the hopes of improving myself. Peeling prawns was a mystery to me, and I’d never even heard of roux. Cooking was actually kind of fun when you were with someone who knew how to do it. Once the gumbo was covered and on its way, Cassie began mixing up ingredients for chocolate‑peppermint cupcakes. She had just handed me a spoon to stir when I heard my phone ring. Usually, I kept it on vibrate, but today, Queen’s “Under Pressure” played in full effect. Rowena and Cassie made no effort to hide their laughter.

I yielded the spoon and ran off to the living room, where I saw an unfamiliar number on the phone.

“Adrian? It’s Marcus. I’m in back in the country.”

For a horrifying moment, I had visions of Marcus crashing my awesome birthday celebration with Sydney. I could practically see him slurping gumbo.

“We’re still in Arizona finishing some stuff,” he continued. “But I’m planning to be in Palm Springs on Sunday. I figured we should set things up–and that I shouldn’t contact Sydney directly.”

“Good idea.” The Love Phone was just for us, and her other phone could be too easily tracked by the Alchemists. Sydney always worried about getting in trouble with them, but Marcus actually risked a lot more. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Do you know how much ink she made?”

I’d been around for a lot of the process. “About enough to fill a standard‑sized paint bucket.”

“Hmm. Maybe we could meet in the parking lot of a home‑improvement store. We’d look like ordinary customers.”

“Pulling up beside each other and exchanging a paint bucket? Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all.”

“You got a better idea? You never know where the Alchemists are watching.”

“Pretty sure they won’t be watching a teacher of hers,” I said. “The ink’s at her house anyway. Meet up there, and you’ll at least have a chance to talk. I’m sure Sydney’ll want to give you some instructions.”

“That’s a good idea,” Marcus said reluctantly. “As long as you think this teacher’s safe.”

“Perfectly.”

I gave him the address, and we set up a time. When we disconnected, Cassie and Rowena were giggling as they leaned together and worked on the cupcakes, so I decided to let them be. I dug out the Love Phone and texted Sydney.

Robin Hood called. He’s going to meet you at JT’s, Sunday at 8 p.m. Will that work?

Her response came quickly. I’ll make it work. Thanks for setting it up.

He figured everything should go through me to be safe. Think you can still come over tonight?

I could practically hear her sigh. Yes, but it was hard‑won, and there’ll be hell to pay tomorrow. Plus we had another fight about the divorce. Tell you later.

Did you just use the H‑word? Nineteen, and you’re a whole different woman.

As I started to put the phone away, I noticed I’d missed two calls from Angeline a couple hours ago. I debated over whether I should call her back. After all, there was always the stealing‑a‑shuttle‑bus possibility. But surely if something was wrong, Sydney would know before me. Angeline hadn’t left voice mail, so I decided to take it on faith that everything was fine and she just had some random question.

The cupcakes were in the oven when I returned to the kitchen, and Cassie was finishing stirring a bowl of frosting.

“Wait, you can make that stuff?” I asked. “I thought it just came in cans.”

She tapped the spoon on the bowl to shake off the excess. “You sure you vouch for this guy, Ro?”

Rowena grinned. “Not for cooking. But for art and romantic good intentions, he’s a sound investment.”

“Don’t forget life advice,” I said. “I’m pretty good at that too.”

“I assure you, I didn’t forget that,” Rowena said drily. Glancing around, she frowned. “This is a nice place, but I’d never guess you had a girlfriend. There are no pictures. Doesn’t she ever leave anything? A coat or a stuffed animal?”

Her words caused a pang in my heart because she was right. Normal people let relationships fill their homes. At the very least, I should have had a picture of Sydney and me together taped on my refrigerator. My apartment showed no signs that I had a girlfriend because as far as most of the world was concerned, I didn’t.

“If you knew her, you’d know she never leaves stuff behind.” I didn’t acknowledge the lack of pictures. “She’s too organized. I’m the one you can’t trust to remember things.”

Cassie pointed at the stove’s timer. “Think you can be trusted to take them out and frost them? You’ve got to wait for them to cool. Most people don’t.”

“Sure thing. And just to prove it, I’ll write it down and–”

A knock sounded at my door, and for half a second, I worried Sydney had shown up early. Even if Rowena and Cassie were friends, finding two girls at your boyfriend’s apartment probably wasn’t an awesome birthday surprise. But when I looked out the door’s peephole, I was blown away to see Angeline.

She sashayed in when I opened the door and flipped her red hair over one shoulder. “We need to talk, and you wouldn’t answer your phone. Oh.” Her eyes focused on the kitchen. “You got a date?”

Rowena snorted. “In his dreams.”

I made introductions, passing Angeline off as my cousin, per our usual procedure in Palm Springs. Since there was no telling what might come out of her mouth, I decided it was best to get rid of Rowena and Cassie as soon as possible.

“You guys saved my life,” I told them. “For real. This is a lot better than frozen lasagna.”

Rowena winked at me. “Something tells me you and your charm could’ve sold it.”

“Well, now I can save that charm up for something else.”

Even Cassie smiled at that. “Don’t forget to add the crushed peppermint candy. And when you frost–”

“–make sure they’re completely cool,” I finished.

I walked them out, and she kept giving me last‑minute instructions until the door actually shut between us. When I returned inside, I found Angeline poking around in the kitchen. “Do not  touch anything,” I warned, seeing her reach for the gumbo lid.

She pulled back. “How’d they save your life? What’s all this for?”

“A friend.”

“Like a friend you sleep with?”

“Like a friend who’s none of your business.”

“These cupcakes look good.” She peered into the oven door. “You know, it’s Sydney’s birthday. If you were nice, you’d send me back with some.”

“I don’t even know why you’re here to begin with. Or how.”

“I took the bus.” Angeline abandoned her kitchen inspection and trudged out to the living room. “Something weird is going on.”

I nearly laughed, except her face looked so serious. “Which, uh, particular weird thing are you referring to?”

“Sydney, Neil, and Eddie. They’re up to something. They’re always talking and then stop whenever I come around.”

After what had happened at Court, I wasn’t surprised to hear that Sydney and Neil were talking a lot. I had no doubt she’d want to find out if everything was going okay with the tattoo–which, I reminded myself, I needed to help him embellish.

“A lot of stuff went down at Court,” I told Angeline. “Stuff that Sydney and Neil had a big part of. They’re probably just debriefing over it.”

“Then why’s Eddie involved?”

Good question. His role was a bit harder to understand, but maybe Sydney just wanted someone else to bounce ideas off of. I could understand why she’d prefer Eddie to Angeline. It was also possible that Angeline was exaggerating how clandestine the conversations were. Regardless, I trusted whatever Sydney was doing, and if she didn’t want Angeline involved, I’d support that.

“She probably doesn’t want to bother you since you’re so busy,” I said. “Aren’t you failing English?”

Angeline flushed. “It’s not my fault.”

“Even I know you can’t write an entry on Wikipedia and then use it as a source in your essay.” Sydney had been torn between horror and hysterics when she told me.

“I took ‘primary source’ to a whole new level!”

Honestly, it was a wonder we’d gotten by for so long without Angeline. Life must have been so boring before her.

“You better work on taking your grade to a whole new level.” I sounded nearly as responsible as Sydney. The oven timer went off, and I hurried to take the cupcakes out. “So get back on the bus, stop dreaming up conspiracy theories, and–God. You’re not supposed to leave campus alone!”

Her face showed that was the least of her problems. “I figured you’d give me a ride back and could cover if anyone said anything.”

“My car’s in the shop. You’ve got to get yourself back.” I carefully set the cupcakes on the counter. “Please, please, don’t get caught. Sydney doesn’t need that kind of trouble.”

“Her? I’ll be the one who’s in trouble,” Angeline argued.

“No, because you’ll just get to sit around and wait while she bails you out.” I would’ve preferred Marcus coming to eat Sydney’s birthday gumbo than Sydney sitting in the Amberwood principal’s office tonight, trying to keep Angeline from getting expelled. “Now get back. You’re sneaky. You can get in without them noticing.”

“I still think there’s something going on.” When I refused to play along with that, she nodded to the cupcakes. “Sure I can’t take some back?”

“They’re not ready. They need to be frosted.”

“Frost ’em now. I’ll help. That waiting‑until‑they’re‑cool stuff is a bunch of crap.”

It was another moment I wished I still had full control of spirit so that I could compel her away. Finally–after I rustled up some change for the bus–she left me in peace so that I could finish the rest of my birthday preparations. I cleaned up the apartment and set out candles and then changed into a dark green shirt I knew Sydney liked. By the time that was done, the cupcakes were ready to frost, and when I dared a taste of the gumbo, I discovered Cassie had been right. It was more than soup. It was sublime.

Sydney showed up around eight, coming to a halt as soon as she stepped inside. “It smells like . . . shrimp. And mint. And pineapple.”

“Dinner, dessert, and these.” I pointed to a bright yellow candle. “Just got them. They’re called ‘Hawaiian Siesta.’”

“That’s not even–never mind.” She shut the door and hurried over to kiss me. It was one of those scorching kisses that made me lose track of my surroundings. “My best birthday present so far today.”

“Withhold your judgment,” I said, gesturing grandly to the kitchen.

She followed me in and stared openmouthed. “You actually made a roux?”

“If by ‘made,’ you mean ‘supervised,’ then yes.”

We ate at the coffee table in the living room, sitting on the floor by candlelight like we had two months ago. I’d never imagined she could be more beautiful than she was in that dream of a red dress, but with each passing day, she proved me wrong. We let Hopper come out, and he curled up near Sydney, taking delicate bites of andouille.

I fessed up to my kitchen helpers, which actually seemed to endear me to her further. Jill had been right that imperfection would get me farther than perfection. Sydney’s laughter died down when she recounted her day.

“Zoe was so mad. We’d been doing so well, Adrian! And now our relationship just totally regressed. I told her I was doing stuff for Ms. Terwilliger–like usual–and that it’d be better for us to go out on the weekend for my birthday anyway. More time and all that.” She shook her head. “Zoe didn’t buy it. All the work I’ve done to get in her good graces . . . gone. She went off about how I was neglecting the mission for personal reasons and that I just wanted to postpone the outing so that those creatures  could come with us. But that wasn’t even the worst part. I said something I shouldn’t have.”