“We’ll have to tell the Mage when he comes back,” Simon said. “There’s too much damage here to handle ourselves.”
Baz was silent.
“Come on,” Simon said, “we can at least get ourselves cleaned up now.”
The boys’ showers were as empty as the rest of the school. They chose stalls at opposite ends.…
“What’s wrong?” Levi asked.
Cath had stopped reading.
“I feel weird reading this mushy gay stuff out loud—your roommates are here. Is one of them gay? I don’t think I can read this with actual gay people in the house.”
Levi giggled. “Micah? Trust me, it’s okay. He watches straight stuff in front of me all the time. He’s obsessed with Titanic.”
“That’s different.”
“Cath, it’s okay. Nobody can hear you.… Wait, is this really a shower scene? Like, a shower scene?”
“No,” Cath said. “Geez.”
Levi moved his arms around her waist until he was holding her properly. Then he pushed his mouth into her hair. “Read to me, sweetheart.”
Simon finished first and put on fresh jeans. When he looked back at Baz’s stall, the water was still running pink at the other boy’s ankles.
Vampire, Simon thought, allowing himself to think the word for the first time, watching the water run.
It should have filled him with hate and revulsion—the thought of Baz usually filled him with those things. But all Simon could feel right now was relief. Baz had helped him find the rabbit, helped him fight it, had kept both of them alive.
Simon was relieved. And grateful.
He shoved his singed and stained clothes into the trash, then went back to their room. It was a long time before Baz joined him. When he did, he looked better than Simon had seen him look all year. Baz’s cheeks and lips were flushed dark pink, and his grey eyes had come out of their shadows.
“Hungry?” Simon asked.
Baz started laughing.
The sun hadn’t quite broken the horizon yet, and no one was about in the kitchens. Simon found bread and cheese and apples, and tossed them onto a platter. It seemed strange to sit alone in the empty dining hall, so he and Baz sat on the kitchen flagstones instead, leaning back against a wall of cabinets.
“Let’s get this over with,” Baz said, biting into a green apple, obviously trying to seem casual. “Are you going to tell the Mage about me?”
“He already thinks you’re a nasty git,” Simon said.
“Yes,” Baz said quietly, “but this is worse, and you know it. You know what he’ll have to do.”
Turn Baz over to the Coven.
It would mean certain imprisonment, perhaps death. Simon had been trying for six years to get Baz expelled, but he’d never wanted to see him staked.
Still … Baz was a vampire—a vampire, damn it. A monster. And he was already Simon’s enemy.
“A monster,” Levi repeated. He raised one hand to unclip Cath’s hair. Her glasses were stuck there and fell sideways onto her arm. Levi picked them up and tossed them onto his bed. “Your hair’s still wet,” he said, shaking it out with one hand.
Simon looked at Baz and tried again to summon the proper amount of horror. All he could manage was some weary dismay. “When did it happen?” he asked.
“I already told you,” Baz said. “We’ve just left the scene of the crime.”
“You were bitten in the nursery? As a child? Why didn’t anyone notice?”
“My mother was dead. My father swooped in and swept me back to the estate. I think he might have suspected.… We’ve never talked about it.”
“Didn’t he notice when you started drinking people’s blood?”
“I don’t,” Baz snapped imperiously. “And besides, the … thirst doesn’t manifest itself right away. It comes on during adolescence.”
“Like acne?”
“Speak for yourself, Snow.”
“When did it come on for you?”
“This summer,” Baz said, looking down.
“And you haven’t—”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Baz turned on him. “Are you kidding me? Vampires murdered my mother. And if I’m found out, I’ll lose everything.… My wand. My family. Possibly my life. I’m a magician. I’m not—” He gestured toward his throat and his face. “—this.”
Simon wondered if he and Baz had ever been so close, had ever allowed each other to sit this close, in all their years of living together. Baz’s shoulder was nearly touching his own, and Simon could see every tiny bump and shadow on Baz’s admittedly very clear skin. Every line of his lips, every flare of blue in his grey eyes.
“How are you staying alive?” Simon asked.
“I manage, thanks.”
“Not well,” Simon said. “You look like hell.”
Baz smirked. “Again, thank you, Snow. You’re a comfort.”
“I don’t mean now,” Simon said. “You look great now.” Baz raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. “But lately…,” Simon pressed on, “you just seem like you’re fading away. Have you been … drinking … anything?”
“I do what I can,” Baz said, dropping his apple core onto the plate. “You don’t want to know the details.”
“I do,” Simon argued. “Look, as your roommate, I have a vested interest in you not wandering around in a bloodlust.”
Levi’s hand was still in Cath’s hair. She felt him lift it up, felt his mouth on the back of her neck. His other arm pulled her tight against him. Cath concentrated on her phone. It had been so long since she’d written this story, she couldn’t quite remember how it ended.
“I’d never bite you,” Baz said, locking on to Simon’s eyes.
“That’s good,” Simon said. “I’m glad you still plan to kill me the old-fashioned way—but you have to admit that this is hard on you.”
“Of course it’s hard on me.” He threw a hand in the air in what Simon recognized as a very Baz-like gesture. “I’ve got the thirst of the ancients, and I’m surrounded by useless bags of blood all day.”
“And all night,” Simon said softly.
Baz shook his head and looked away again. “I said I’d never hurt you,” he muttered.
“Then let me help.” Simon moved just an inch, so their shoulders were touching. Even through his T-shirt and through Baz’s cotton button-down, he could feel that Baz wasn’t freezing anymore. He was warm. He seemed healthy again.
“Why do you want to help?” Baz asked, turning back to Simon, who was close enough now to feel the soft heat of Baz’s breath on his chin. “You’d keep a secret from your mentor to help your enemy?”
“You’re not my enemy,” Simon said. “You’re just … a really bad roommate.”
Levi laughed, and Cath felt it on her neck.
Baz laughed, and Simon felt it on his eyelashes.
“You hate me,” Baz argued. “You’ve hated me from the moment we met.”
“I don’t hate this,” Simon said. “What you’re doing—denying your most powerful urges, just to protect other people. It’s more heroic than anything I’ve ever done.”
“They’re not my most powerful urges,” Baz said under his breath.
“Do you know,” Simon said, “that half the time we’re together, you’re talking to yourself?”
“Ah, Snow, I didn’t think you noticed.”
“I notice,” Simon said, feeling six years of irritation and anger—and twelve hours of exhaustion—coming to a dizzy peak between his ears. He shook his head, and he must have leaned forward because it was enough to bump his nose and chin against Baz’s.… “Let me help you,” Simon said.
Baz held his head perfectly still. Then he nodded, gently thudding his forehead against Simon’s.
“I notice,” Simon said, letting his mouth drift forward. He thought of everything that had passed over the other boy’s lips. Blood and bile and curses.
But Baz’s mouth was soft now, and he tasted of apples.
And Simon didn’t care for the moment that he was changing everything.
Cath closed her eyes and felt Levi’s chin track the back of her collar.
“Keep reading,” he whispered.