Chapter 170: He’s Been Dying to See You

The lobby was black marble, and nobody was in it but the courier.

He stood by the only elevator in the same gray suit he’d worn to the exam hall, the silver scale at his throat. When he saw her, he bowed exactly as deeply as before.

"Miss Willows. May I take your coat?"

"No, thank you."

He didn’t argue. He pressed his palm to a panel beside the doors, and they opened.

There were no buttons inside. The courier didn’t get in. Blair stepped in alone, and the doors closed on his polite face.

The elevator rose for a long time. She watched the numbers climb over the door and held her coat shut at the throat. Her wrist showed at the cuff. She tugged the sleeve down over the ink.

The numbers stopped. The doors opened, and the room was blue.

One whole wall was water.

It ran from the floor to the ceiling and from one end of the room to the other, thick glass holding back more water than Blair had ever seen in one place. Light came from somewhere deep inside it and moved over everything: the pale floor, the low white couches, her own hands. The other walls were glass too. Beyond them the city glittered, very small and very far down.

Blair looked into the water. Past the first few feet it was dark. Nothing moved.

Something had, from the street.

"You’re early."

She didn’t jump.

Jasper came out of the blue light at the far end of the room. Loose black trousers, a white silk shirt open halfway down his chest, bare feet on the marble floor. His hair hung loose to his waist, and the pearls woven through it caught the water light and threw it back.

He stopped in front of her and smiled.

"Hello, sweetheart."

"Hello." It came out smaller than she meant it to.

"May I?"

He didn’t wait. He stepped behind her, took her coat by the collar and drew it off her shoulders. His knuckles went down both her bare arms on the way, cool as the glass. She held very still.

The last time Jasper had stood behind her, she had ended up in a hotel lobby full of beastmen with no clothes on.

The coat dropped onto a couch. Jasper stayed where he was, behind her, and looked.

In this light the silk had gone almost all blue, with pink running under it every time she breathed.

"Oh," he said softly. "I was right."

He lifted a strand of her brown hair between two fingers, laid it against the silk at her shoulder and made a face.

"That, though. That’s a crime." He let it fall. "We’ll talk about it."

Blair didn’t answer. Her eyes had gone to the elevator.

"It only goes down when I say so," he said pleasantly. He came around to face her, and his eyes dropped to her hands. "What’s this?"

She was too slow. He had her left wrist and turned it over, and the ink sat there in the blue light, big and uneven.

COME HOME.

Jasper read it, and laughed, delighted.

"Oh, is the puppy afraid I’ll steal his pretty little human?"

Blair tried to pull her hand back. He didn’t let go.

He licked his thumb and drew it across the letters, slowly, watching her face the whole time. The C smeared. The rest held. "Hm. He presses hard."

Her pulse was beating under his thumb. He smiled as if he could count it.

Then, for half a second, his eyes went past her shoulder to the wall of water. A flick, and back, as if they’d never left.

Blair kept her face still.

Jasper let go of her wrist and offered his arm instead, like a gentleman at a ball.

"Come and eat. I’ve been cooking all day."

"Is that why you missed the exam?"

"Why? Did you miss me?"

She didn’t take his arm. He didn’t seem to mind. His hand settled at the small of her back instead.

* * *

The dining room sat at the end of the aquarium, and the water ran the whole length of one side.

The table was long and white and set for nine. Silver, crystal, low white flowers. Candles burned down the middle, though the room didn’t need them.

Seven of the chairs were empty.

Each empty place had a small folded card on the plate. Blair was close enough to read the nearest one. It was the same looping hand as the invitation.

Blair.

She didn’t read the others. She didn’t have to. She counted the chairs instead. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Seven girls named Blair.

Whatever he shows you tonight, don’t let your face do anything.

Her face didn’t do anything. Her hands did. She pressed them flat against the dress at her sides to keep them still.

Jasper was watching her. He’d been watching her since the doorway, she realized, the way someone watches a pot they’ve put on to boil.

"Nothing?" He sounded almost disappointed. "Most people at least gasp."

"Most people?"

His smile widened. He didn’t answer.

He went to the head of the table, the end nearest the water, and pulled out the chair. Not for her. He sat in it himself, with his back to the city and the whole aquarium at his left hand, where he could watch it without turning his head.

Where he sits.

Blair made herself ask. "What do you want?"

"Right now?" He shook out his napkin. "For you to sit. Anywhere you like, sweetheart." He smiled. "Well. Almost anywhere."

Every free chair had a card on its plate. Every card had her name on it.

There was one chair at the table that wasn’t empty and wasn’t his.

It was at the far end, half out of the candlelight. A small, round-shouldered young man sat in it with sweat shining on his upper lip. A chain ran from his ankle to the chair leg, and from the chair leg to a ring bolted into the floor. His napkin was tucked into his collar, neatly.

Caleb.

He looked at Blair like a drowning man looking at a rope.

"Hi," he said. "Hi, Blair. Wow. You look... hi."

"Caleb’s been dying to see you," Jasper said.

"Not literally," Caleb said quickly.

Jasper picked up his wineglass and smiled at Blair over the rim.

"Not yet."