I stare up at the ceiling as I wait for my heart rate to slow down and for sleep to come. I almost have the keypad figured out. That means I almost have the key to getting out of this place.
From now on, that has to be my main focus.
I have to figure out that code.
The next day, I head back toward the elevator that Bastian and I rode in as soon as I finish breakfast.
I know the first three digits and the last digit. I’m only missing two now, and I’m out of time to play it subtle. No matter what it takes, I need to finish up today. As soon as that happens, I’ll go find Nathan and get us the hell out of here. This elevator is the only viable escape option I’ve found, so no matter what, we have to make it work.
I’m approaching the intersection, my “dazed tribute” face going full force. I can hear someone coming from the elevator, so I lay it on extra thick, stumbling over my own toes just a little. The vampire rounds the corner, and—
Fuck.
It’s Connor.
I wipe the stupid look off my face, but I’m not quick enough. His bright smile fades slightly as worry rises around his eyes.
“Darcy! What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” I say, trying to wave it off. “I was just, um, trying to find my way back.”
There’s a flash of jealousy, or maybe protectiveness, in his expression. It gives me a warm feeling deep down inside that I can’t afford to pay much attention to. Every time I see him, every time I talk to him, it’s always a fight to remind myself of what he is.
He offers me his arm and a wide smile.
“Well, m’lady,” he says theatrically. “Allow me to escort you back to the tribute wing. Er—if that’s where you want to go.”
I could ask him to take me up in the elevator, but I’m worried about other vamps seeing us. I get the feeling that Bastian taking me to the top floor was something he doesn’t do with most tributes. In fact, I’m not sure he’s ever done it before, and I’m pretty sure if he finds out I was asking Connor to take me up, it’ll either piss him off or make him suspicious. So instead of mentioning it, I play dumb, hating myself for using Connor like this.
Doesn’t matter. He’s a fucking vampire, Mikka.
“What’s through there?” I ask, nodding toward the elevator he just got off of.
“Ugh, just boring offices and stuff. Nobody ever told me that vampires had to work for an undeadening.” He rolls his eyes, and it makes me grin in spite of myself.
“An undeadening, huh?”
“Well it can’t really be called a living, can it?” He grins, winking at me. “Even though you have managed to inject a lot more life into this stuffy old tomb.”
“Me?” Huh. That’s exactly the opposite of what I want to do.
“Sure! What other gorgeous tribute would have put up with my clumsy ass this whole time?”
“Plenty,” I tell him. Seriously, he has no idea how many of the girls hate me for being on easy terms with him.
He throws back his head and laughs. “You’re biased,” he teases. “And cool. Super cool, like—” He breaks off, groping around for words.
“Ice cold?” I offer helpfully.
He laughs again. It’s like music and feels like a concert at the inner harbor on a warm summer evening. Dammit, why does he have to be a vampire?
“See? Right there. You’re cooler than cool. Most of the other girls I’ve talked to since getting here have a very specific idea of what they’re in for, and most of them find it, or something close to it. They want a brooding perpetual teen who owns stock in body glitter, or a dramatic middle-aged gentleman whose closet is full of tuxedos.”
“I have seen plenty of both,” I agree. “Though I gotta say, there are more brutes than I’d anticipated.”
That’s a lie. If anything, I thought there would be more vicious animals, but I think it fits with his general perception of tribute expectations.
“James and Chris.” Connor nods with a wince. “Yeah, they’re not really royal court material. I mean, I’m not either, but not for lack of trying. They used to live on the surface, and they liked it.” He shudders. “I don’t know about you, but basement apartments in abandoned buildings don’t sound like a lot of fun to me.”
“Sounds pretty awful,” I agree. “But way more suited to their personalities. James’s, anyway. I don’t think I’ve met Chris.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I hope you never do.”
“So why do they live here now?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know the specifics, but I guess there’s some kind of Buffy wannabe running around up there causing trouble. They claim they only came down here because they felt they deserved better, but I’m pretty sure they’re just scared.”
Don’t smile, don’t smile.
I focus on the “Buffy wannabe” statement and let it annoy me enough to keep from grinning like an idiot. Apparently, I had James on the run once, and dammit, I’ll do it again.
Connor smiles down at me, his eyes warm and soft, and moves his arm so that my hand slides into his. He kisses my wrist, then lets our hands swing between us. It’s cozy, comfortable… and exactly what I don’t need right now.
Shit. It’s going to hurt to leave him.
I shove the knowledge away, wishing I could make it untrue just by ignoring it. If I get melancholy right now, he’ll know something’s up, and he won’t stop pestering me until he finds out what it is. Because he cares.
Dammit, Connor, act like a vampire for once, would you?
His pocket buzzes when we reach the main staircase. I wonder if the stairs go up to the building above too, or if they just reach into higher underground levels? I’m about
