Page 80 of Chaos
He grins. “Got any resume questions for me, Yorkewife? You’re glaring hard enough to set me on fire.”
“Lots, but I’ll have to ask later.”
“A friend of Shasta’s and Yorke’s is someone I’d like to have as a friend of mine. I won’t hurt her.” Church says gently, stacking Shasta’s plate on top of his. Then he spoils the tenderness of it all with a wink.
“Heris right here,” Shasta interjects. “Who says I’d let him hurt me?”
“Getting hurt isn’t always a choice.” I drop a kiss to the top of Yorke’s head, taking a second to breathe in the safe, warm smell of his hair and whisper in his ear, “I love you,” then shove my poison sack over my shoulder and grab Shasta by the wrist. “Hurry.”
“I don’t remember getting dragged around this much before I was blind,” Shasta says with exasperation.
“Shh.” I tug her out of the Tastemaker and into the lobby, which is still full of mud and unhappy-eyed soldiers. I have ideas for that problem … but that’s next.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Top secret.”
“Okay. I still want to hear about how Yorke took the news. I don’t think he said a word at breakfast.”
“He’s processing.”
“What does that mean?”
I tug her around a group of soldiers, several of whom send lascivious looks her way, others laugh, still more convene in other groups.
Across the way, a group of ex-townees are in deep conversation around some of the tea tables under the french doors. I can tell from their posture they’re plotting something.
“You’re killing me. How did he take it?” she asks.
“He’s Yorke. He said all the right things.” In the closet of the basement, and then later …
“Like what?” She splays the fingers of the hand that isn’t wrapped around my forearm. “How would I know what he’s supposed to say about having a zygote on the way? I’ve never had a zygote. I’ve never wanted to have a zygote.”
“He expressed concern for my well-being and the safety of said zygote. All the things.” I lead her around a final cluster of soldiers and into the promenade hallway. “All the normal things a person feels when they find out they’re going to have a child after the apocalypse.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Who said anything’s wrong?”
“Your voice is funny.”
“Huh.” I look inward. “He kept sayingyou’re going to need, rather thanwe will need.”
“Normal man being clueless?”
The unease grows now that it’s verbalized. “That’s not like him. He’d say nothing before he’d say the wrong thing.” Yorke uses words when he’s feeling emotional like each one has the strength to break him, because his shitty childhood didn’t show him that family’s don’t love conditionally.
And suddenly I know what to give him for White Winter.
I just need some time in the suite with the set of colored pencils Shane gave me for my birthday.
“Did he say he was happy?” Shasta asks.
“No. But …” I didn’t expect him to be happy. I expected him to be stressed, which he was, and then … then I just distracted him with oral pleasures until he passed out. And when I woke up sweating in the night from a nightmare of the cellar, I climbed on top of him. Maybe he feels weird about that. I’m sure he does. I’ll have to figure out how to bring it up. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Then at least tell me where you’re dragging me to?” She slows her pace threateningly.
“To the kitchens with ant poison,” I whisper.