The Essence
Page 65

But they were persistent, the both of them.
Niko’s eyes never left me, and as hard as I told myself I didn’t care, I did. Except that now my feelings were jumbled with Sabara’s, and even I was having a hard time discerning mine from hers. Fact from fantasy.
I reached out and took a glass of bubbling liquid, so blue it was nearly black, from one of the silver trays as it passed. I had no idea what it was, but I lifted it to my lips and sipped.
I recognized the feel of the refreshment going down, but not the taste. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t meant for children.
Before I could take another sip, Brook took my glass and downed most of it in several gulps. “Better,” she practically hiccupped. Setting the glass down, she signaled for the attendant to bring another.
“Not playing the role of commander tonight, I take it,” I said, giggling, surprised at how easy it was to forget about the day’s events. At how relaxed I was just being with Brook again, like the old days.
She slipped her arm through mine and pulled me so close I could taste her intoxicating breath. “I’m always the commander,” she said with just the hint of a slur, and I wondered what, exactly, had been in that drink. Already, my head was starting to spin, and all I’d had was a sip. When the tray came back around, I waved it away, hoping Brook wouldn’t argue. But she never even noticed. “And don’t you forget it,” she said, her words garbled and unclear.
I glanced up at Niko just as he raised his glass to me, a dark and dangerous smile on his lips.
And then Brook hit the ground.
“Are you sure she’ll be okay?”
The “doctor,” who I wasn’t entirely convinced was, in fact, a doctor, looked down at me, perplexed. His beakish nose wrinkled. “Of course she will, my dear. She just needs to rest. To sleep it off, as they say.”
“Who?” I asked, leaning over Brook’s motionless form, and relaxing just a little when I felt her breath against my cheek. “Who says that?”
He waved his hands in a flourish of bony knuckles and untrimmed yellow fingernails, both dismissing me and emphasizing his point. “They. They say that. She’s just had too much Amrita. First-timers should never drink so much. A sip. Two at the most. It’s for tasting mostly, not drinking.”
I frowned at him, wondering what happened to his other eye—or rather to the place where his other eye should have been. I stared into the withered hole that bored in his skull. “Then why are they serving it in glasses?”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “To drink, of course.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose; I was clearly getting nowhere. The important thing, I supposed, was that Brook would recover.
I was marching back and forth after the doctor had gone, chewing on the side of my thumb and listening for the sounds of Brook’s breathing, when Aron poked his head inside.
“How is she?” he asked quietly.
I waved him in, and waited till the door was all the way closed behind him. I narrowed my gaze as I assessed the worry on his face, thinking about the way he’d been goading her earlier.
“I knew it!” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers as it all came together. “You like her!”
He bit back a crooked grin. “Of course I like her, it’s Brooklynn.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” I poked him in the chest, daring him to argue—expecting him to argue.
Instead he just shrugged.
“Don’t tell her,” he sighed. “It’s stupid, really. And she’d laugh if she knew. I’ve gone from tagging after you, to tagging after her. I’m no better than Sebastian who follows her around with puppy eyes, wagging his tail and practically tripping her with his eagerness to get her attention.” He moved to stand beside the bed, his gaze sweeping over her still form. His voice dropped until it was barely above a whisper. “I keep hoping it’ll pass. That I can piss her off enough that she’ll make me mad when she yells at me. Honestly, though,” he admitted, “it only makes me like her more.”
I grinned. “She has a way of doing that, doesn’t she? Getting under your skin?”
He just shook his head, lifting her hand until it was almost to his mouth. He didn’t kiss it, though; he just held it there, his lips hovering above her unmoving fingertips, as if he was waiting for something to happen. And then, when nothing did, he brushed his chin across the back of her hand.
It was tender and sweet and intimate, and my cheeks burned from watching them.
“Drunk,” I blurted out. “The doctor said she’s just drunk and needs to sleep. I’m going back down to the party. You can stay if you want, but she’ll probably be out all night.”
Aron nodded. “I’ll stay . . . if you don’t mind.” He set her hand down then, placing it gently across her stomach as he pulled a chair up to her side of the bed.
I crept into the hallway, glad to be alone for a moment. Well, alone with Zafir, which shouldn’t have surprised me even though it sort of did.
I’d told Zafir to wait downstairs, practically ordering him since I knew I’d be right back. I figured I’d be okay in the company of the palace doctor.
“Do you even care what I want?” I complained when I found him outside my bedroom door.
“Not really.”
I did my best to ignore him as I strode ahead, concentrating instead on the music lilting up the wide staircase. It was playful and seductive, the strings and the pipes and the keyboards melding into a symphony of merriment. The circus, it seemed, was in full swing.