Chapter 165: Wherever Fish Live

Daemus was waiting at the bottom of the exam hall steps with two sandwiches. He held one out to her. Then he looked at her properly, and he lowered it.

"What happened?"

Blair looked at the sandwich.

"Not here," she said.

He didn’t ask again. He took her hand and walked her across the quad, past the fountain, all the way to the hockey rink.

It was empty at midday. The ice lay smooth and gray under the lights, and the cold hit her face the moment the doors swung shut. Daemus led her down to the home bench and sat her on it. He stayed standing, which meant he was worried.

So she told him. The card on her desk. Friday, nine o’clock.

"Wear something pretty," she recited. "And underneath it said... leave the dog at home."

Daemus’s ears came out.

"I’m not a dog."

She looked at his ears. "Very wolf," she said.

"I’m a wolf. There are differences." He paced the length of the bench. "Okay. Fine. Friday I go wherever fish live, and I..."

"Where do fish live?"

"I’ll find out." He stopped. "Where’s the card?"

Blair hesitated. "Killian took it."

Daemus stared at her. "Good," he said finally.

Blair blinked.

"Don’t. Don’t look at me. I hate it." He pointed at her. "If you ever tell him I said that, I’ll kill myself."

She laughed before she could stop it. He looked pleased about that for a second. Then he unwrapped his sandwich, took an enormous bite, and talked around it.

"So that’s it then. No card, no dinner."

Blair’s smile went away.

"There’s more," she said.

He chewed slower.

"Jasper said someone else will be there. A guy...Caleb." She pulled her sleeves down over her hands. "He’s human. He took me to lunch once, at the start of term."

"He took you to lunch?"

"He thought it was a date."

"Was it a date?"

"I didn’t know it was a date until it was over."

Daemus made a noise like a kettle. Then he saw her face, and stopped.

"Jasper has him," Blair said. "He said Caleb would love to see me again before..." She didn’t finish it. She didn’t have to.

Daemus swallowed his bite. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, that sucks for Caleb."

"I need your help getting him out."

"I don’t know the guy, Babe." He shrugged, and he meant it.

"You don’t have to know him. He’s a person, and Jasper’s going to kill him."

"Jasper’s going to kill him whether you’re at that dinner or not." Daemus pointed at her with the sandwich. "That’s the whole point. He wants you to watch, or he wants you to trade. Either way, you lose."

She hadn’t expected him to work it out that fast. She hated, a little, that he was right.

"So we go and we’re careful."

"We don’t go. Nobody goes to the fish’s dinner party."

"Then Caleb dies."

"Then Caleb dies." He didn’t look sorry. "Better him than you."

Blair stood up.

There was another reason, and she kept it behind her teeth. Someone had sent Caleb to spy on her. Caleb knew who. If Jasper killed him, the answer died with him.

"You don’t get to decide that," she said.

Daemus blinked at her. Then, slowly, he grinned.

"You’re yelling at me."

"I’m not yelling."

"You’re a little yelling. I’m kind of into it."

"Daemus. Will you help me or not?"

The grin went away. "No."

She stared at him.

"Anything else," he said. "I’ll help you with anything else. I’ll carry your books. I’ll do your laundry."

"You don’t know how to do laundry."

"I’ll learn. I’ll learn laundry, Bunny. That’s how much I don’t want you in that house."

She opened her mouth to argue, and he dropped the sandwich on the bench and took her face in both hands.

"He threw you into that lobby to be fucking raped," he said, and he wasn’t joking anymore. "I don’t even remember that night. He is insane and dangerous. You are not going, understand?"

She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no, either.

He kissed her.

He tasted of bread and mustard, and she didn’t care. She clutched his jacket and kissed him back, and he made a low, rough sound and lifted her clean off her feet.

Her back met the boards. Cold bled through her sweater. Daemus fitted himself between her knees, and his hands slid under the hem to her bare waist, hot against her chilled skin.

She gasped into his mouth. He swallowed it.

His lips moved down her jaw to her throat. He kissed his way along her neck, slow and open-mouthed, until her fingers were knotted in his hair and her heels were locked behind his thighs.

"Daemus," she breathed. "Someone could come in."

"Let them." His teeth grazed her pulse. "It’s my bench."

He kissed her mouth once more, softer. Then he rested his forehead on her shoulder and stayed there, breathing.

"Does the crow know?" he asked into her sweater.

"Not yet."

"Tell him tonight. He’ll say the same thing I did."

Blair didn’t tell him she was hoping Jack wouldn’t.

**

Daemus walked her to the East Wing after dark and stopped at the medal case without being asked.

Jack’s door stood open an inch. The lamp was on and the window was open. He was standing at it with a cigarette, and he didn’t turn around.

"Close it."

She closed it and sat in the chair by his desk. The forms had been stacked into neat squares again. He came around behind her chair, and his hands settled on her shoulders.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because if you look at me, you’ll try to give the right answer. I don’t want the right answer. I want what you saw."

She closed her eyes.

"Start with the shoes."

"I don’t remember the shoes."

"Then start with the door. You opened it. What did you see first?"

"Her smile," Blair said. "Before anything else. Lots of teeth."

"Then?"

"Her hair. Brown, I think. In a bun. Very tidy." She frowned. "The men stood behind her. She did all the talking. She was so... kind."

His thumbs moved once over her shoulders, slowly. Her breathing eased, and she wasn’t sure if he had meant it to.

"What did she say?"

"That the girl was hallucinating. From shock." Blair swallowed. "She said they’d take good care of her. She said..."

Evening, dears.

Blair’s mouth stayed open.

Mind the wet step.

A gray coverall. Rubber gloves. A tidy bun, not one hair out of place. A bright smile with lots of teeth, turned up the stairs at her and Daemus.

Her eyes snapped open.

"Ms. Willows."

"The janitor," she said.

Jack’s hands didn’t move. "What janitor."

"Last night." She twisted around in the chair to look up at him. "She was mopping. She said good evening. I said good evening back, and I stepped around the wet stair, and I didn’t..." Her voice cracked. "I didn’t even look at her properly."

"Did she look at you?"

"I...I don’t know," she stuttered out.

Jack straightened. "Then you are being watched."