“Sure, Cass,” he eventually got out between gritted teeth. “Friday it is.”
I swung away to head out of the park.
“And stop calling me Cass.”
He answered with a not-so-meek chuckle, a dirtily amused sound that I felt in the pit of my stomach.
What was going on with me? Why hadn’t I got rid of the unauthorised tech already – much less held on to it as bait? I walked between the clearly codified lines; I followed the rules of our society as well as anyone who didn’t want to end up on the sands of the arena. A tremor ran through me at the thought of ever having to—
No, I pushed the idea away. It was unthinkable. Yet the memory of touching him clung to my fingertips, almost a physical thing.
I might not know what Devyn was up to but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Despite all the reasons to walk away, I couldn’t. I simply had to know more about him. I was used to getting what I wanted. And what I did know was how to work a party.
One way or another, I was going to figure out Devyn Agrestis’s secrets.
Chapter Four
Everything was as it always was – at least to anyone watching, nothing would appear different. But it was different, I thought, taking a sip of my drink, only half listening to Ambrose’s latest plan for retail innovation.
“I know it’s been done before, but I think my take on the kinetic approach would be sensational. A revolutionary way of merchandising…”
Ambrose’s voice faded into the general hum and beat of the music as I became increasingly focused on Devyn sloping around the edges of the party.
There was a real art to the way he seemed to be barely there. Most of my friends wanted to be noticed, talking animatedly about something clever or topical, laughing brightly in a way that drew attention to their pearly teeth or witty comments, dancing in their perfectly on-trend clothing that flattered their best features. Long legs, tiny waist, broad shoulders, lustrous hair – girls and boys alike primped and preened. Not a great deal of touching went on – no one wanted to risk that – but the general attitude was that it didn’t hurt to look and be looked at.
But not Devyn. He didn’t lurk exactly, as that would draw attention. He was part of the party: he talked to people, but no one in particular; he laughed softly with others, but was never the one to incite the hilarity. He didn’t really dance but moved with the music, as if he had moments where he failed to take notice of himself, and the rhythm happened to catch him in its current.
I was all too aware that I had been watching him all evening. I only got to throw a party once a season or so. I loved to party – or rather, I loved to dance – and my father was happier letting me throw one than he was about me going to other people’s. He almost never granted me permission to go to a club in the West End, and clubs at the outer walls were utterly out of bounds. And here I was spending so much time tracking Devyn bloody Agrestis that I was utterly wasting this one.
He’d been here for two hours, and so far he’d made no attempt to talk to me at all. He acted like he came to our parties all the time. Maybe he did. In fact, suddenly I was sure he did. Like the brush of a tune that you suddenly realise you’ve heard countless times and even seem to know a few lines of. He’d been here. Last time for sure, and maybe the one before that. Delving into half-remembered parties, the endless glimpses of Devyn rolled before my mind’s eye.
He always came to my parties. Scanning through memories of social events over the last few years it seemed like he was always there. I shook my head, trying to clear the picture; I could sense him there, in corners, on the outside of groups, I just couldn’t focus on his face… It was like a strange optical illusion that was almost impossible to penetrate. Once you knew it was there and you focused hard, you could see it for a moment before it faded away again.
“Cassandra, Ca-ssan-dra,” Ambrose was waving his hand in front of my face.
I turned to him, smiling vaguely.
“Uh, yes, sorry, what was that?” I struggled to recall what Ambrose had been talking about – something about augmented reality.
“Where did you go?”
“Nowhere, I was just worrying about the catering. I think we have plenty of everything though.” I hesitated before continuing. Somehow I didn’t like drawing attention to Devyn but I had to test my theory. “Ambrose, what do you think of Devyn Agrestis?”
Ambrose looked at me blankly for a moment.
“Devyn Agrestis,” he drew the name out slowly. “Devyn Agrestis… right, yeah, I know him. He’s in our class. Nice guy, sort of tall, no, average height, black, maybe brown hair. Yeah, yeah, nice guy.”
Wow, Ambrose would be quite the witness for the state. Talk about failing to paint a picture with words.
Unable to help myself, I felt my eyes go to Devyn once more, now standing in a group talking by the drinks table.
“Does he come out with us much?” Maybe Ambrose could pinpoint him to specific parties for me.
“Uh, yeah, he’s usually around.”
“But when specifically?” I pushed.
Ambrose looked baffled. “Like, all the time. He was at… I’m sure I was talking to him the other week at Alianna’s thing. We spoke about…” Ambrose trailed off. “Yeah, we had a good talk, caught up about things.”
Ambrose, one of the top-scoring boys in our college class, had the pedant’s preference for specificity on all occasions. While he was clearly sure that Devyn was someone we socialised with, that he was unable to supply the litany of times or dates such a question would usually have generated was notable. Vague generalities were the best he could come up with. How curious.
I added it to the growing mental file labelled Devyn Agrestis. Right alongside my realisation that him not looking my way all night was far too deliberate for real indifference. People at parties scanned the room, as interested in the opportunities they were missing as the one they were in the middle of.
Devyn, however, was making an art of flitting his eyes across the room like everyone else, while studiously ignoring whatever part of the room I happened to be in. So, while it looked like he hadn’t yet spotted me, I was willing to place a substantial wager on the likelihood that he could describe in minute detail exactly what I was wearing from my heeled sandals to my intricately painted nails. Not to mention every interaction I’d had all evening. Fine. Then let him get an eyeful of this.
I strode across the room to where Felix Thomas and his cronies were standing. Felix had always liked me. I usually wouldn’t play up to that – my father had strong views on any kind of flirtation. He was pretty orthodox in that respect; even though some kids my age experimented lightly, my father saw it as disrespectful to one’s true match. I had never felt like crossing that boundary before but I was willing to bet Devyn wouldn’t be happy either. Not for the same reasons as my father, though.
Brushing my hair behind my shoulder to better display my neck in the off-the-shoulder top I was wearing, I sidled up to Felix and greeted him by lightly laying my hand on his bicep, and letting it trail gently just a few millimetres – nothing too strong.
Felix turned, his eyes lighting when he realised who it was that had so blatantly invaded his space.
“Cassandra.” He smiled his pearly cute-boy smile. “Great party.”
“Thanks, I was hoping…” and before I could even finish one sentence, Devyn was at my shoulder. Well, that had been even quicker than expected.
“Cassandra, can I have a quick word?” he cut across me. Without waiting for my answer, he had cupped my elbow and was leading me down the hallway to the quieter reception room.
“What are you doing?” I asked, oh so softly.
“What you wanted me to do,” he returned.
I shook my head, giving him my best confused look. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“No?” One eyebrow lifted. “I think you know exactly what I mean. Papa’s little princess doesn’t normally play with the boys.”
He’d noticed I didn’t really f
lirt with guys. How much more did he know about me? It was my turn to find out something about him.
“Are you sure about that?” Pulling my jangling nerves together, I reached out, repeating the move I had just practised on Felix. Devyn steeled himself as my hand came into contact with his bicep, tightening under my touch, the whipcord strength undeniable.
There was a truth touch provided that sight alone contradicted. I was increasingly sure of it: his body, the body I was so startling aware of, did not belong. There was something about him I couldn’t quite figure out. How was he doing this? Some kind of new augmenting tech? He looked directly down at me, amused but alert.
“So confident, little girl. What are you going to do now?”
I pulled back my wandering thoughts. I wasn’t going to back down, that was for sure. I moved squarely in front of him, lifting my chin in defiance. I lowered my lashes, letting my fingers drift up to his shoulder, swaying closer to him, taking my other hand and repeating the manoeuvre until both hands were on his shoulders, settling there. Our bodies now so close there was barely enough room for the breeze gently lifting the curtains to make its way between us. I tilted one hip and then the other.
I hummed the tune that was blaring through the walls from the living room where the party continued, unaware of the lines being crossed only a room away. His body was unmoving, refusing to take up the rhythm with mine but the awareness crackled between us. Devyn might be holding still, but he was far from indifferent; his entire body fairly screamed in its tension.
I risked a tentative glance upwards. Not a good move. Devyn’s eyes glittered darkly, the appearance of mildness thoroughly dropped once more.
“Cassandra,” he grated, “you play at games you don’t understand. You’ve been a good girl all your life. Why change now?”
He warned me off, but he didn’t move back and his hands didn’t push me away. I met the darkly glittering eyes of this boy I barely knew and certainly didn’t understand. The soft, slight version sharpened to reveal the truth of him. Why would anyone use cutting-edge tech to appear more ordinary?
A part of me wanted to back away. I felt intimidated, threatened by this version of him. The tremble of a doe on seeing a suspected predator step out of the shadows ran through me. I embraced it, the electricity of my blood swirling through me, making me feel utterly alive. As if up until this moment I’d been sleepwalking, his touch pulling me out of a drugged sleep. Dry-mouthed, I wet my lips with a flick of my tongue, spotting his eyes track the tiny movement.
“Maybe I’ve never had anybody tempt me before. Why take a nibble of something you’re not hungry for?” The huskily spoken words accurately summed up my previous indifference to the flirting that would so horrify my father. It was more than I had planned to share though.
“And you’re hungry for me.” Devyn’s voice was low and deep as the darkness of the room seemed to enclose us in a bubble. A world of two.
Was that a statement or a question? I wasn’t sure, and what did it matter? I moved closer until our bodies were fitting lightly together. Every atom that existed between us seemed charged. Was this what I had been missing out on by staying true to a boy I had met only once on my twelfth birthday? I glanced at my promise ring in an attempt to conjure up the most important reason not to move closer to the pulsing magnetic body so close to my own. Why would I not touch, embrace, feel…? The growl in his chest reverberated through my veins. I wanted to—
“Cassandra.” Unnoticed, the door had opened and my mother was standing in the open doorway, her scolding glare melting the warmth that encircled me. I swayed as the coldness of my mother’s gaze seemed to physically stab me.
Devyn moved as if to stand in front of me but then his head went down and he sloped – and by sloped, I mean he practically oozed around the tall, elegant brunette in the doorway – from the scene of the crime. Nice.
“What was going on in here?” my mother’s question lashed across the room.
“Nothing, he’s just a classmate,” I offered, deliberately not naming Devyn. “He wanted a word about a girl he’s friends with. Her birthday is coming up and he was wondering if it would be appropriate to get her a gift.”
And just like that, I told the first outright lie of my life. I had spent most of my childhood drifting happily along in between the twin lines of expectation and appropriate conduct. In the last week, I had taken some significant excursions. I felt like I was going to be sick, my stomach churning with nerves. There was no way my mother was going to believe me. But given the slightly risqué behaviour I was describing versus the absolutely scandalous behaviour she had not quite witnessed, Camilla could only judge based on my past self rather than the new version of me that was emerging and had yet to be formally introduced.
She nodded, adding curtly that I was neglecting the rest of my guests, before sharply closing the door behind her. I staggered over to the open window and took a deep breath of air. I was trembling – from my mother walking in on us and from the heart-stopping almost-something with Devyn.
I realised that I had lied not to protect myself from my mother’s condemnation, my father’s disappointment, or even the possibility that my future partner would feel in some way betrayed, but for Devyn’s protection. I had broken a code of honesty I had lived by my entire life so that he would not be noticed – because my parents would have ensured he got noticed. By the authorities, by the college board, by my classmates’ parents, even potential employers, as we were now only a couple of months from graduation. Flirting with non-partners wasn’t off-limits officially, but if my mother had walked in only seconds later, things might have progressed beyond a light touch on the arm. Not that it was actually against the code to get physical with someone other than your intended before marriage, but it was incredibly rare once matched. After all, why waste calories on some passing fancy when the most delectable custom-made dessert was waiting for you?
I looked out over the city, the dark void of the river visible between the illuminated tower blocks, and I allowed my heightened emotions to float out on the tide.
Devyn Agrestis was not good for me. I liked my life. I was looking forward to graduation, and most especially upgrading from promise ring to promise kept.
That was what was important.
The last seven days were the anomaly, as was the odd boy who had stepped from the shadowy wings of my life into centre stage. I needed to regain control and push the mystery of Devyn and his device out of my life for good, before it did any permanent damage.
Chapter Five
When I walked into the breakfast room the next morning, the atmosphere had the coiled tension of a trap waiting to spring. My darling mother had wasted no time. I shouldn’t have been surprised. With my father, I often forgot that I was adopted. With my mother, I never forgot. But as I hadn’t officially done anything wrong, I took my seat with a chirpy “good morning” to the room.
I glanced at Anna, the maid standing so quietly in the corner she was practically merging with the wall. Anna shook her head slightly. From her this was a big red flag crying out go back, go back. The maid rarely stuck her neck out. Camilla Shelton missed nothing so for her to dare this much meant I was in big trouble. Graham Shelton looked up grimly at my entrance, placing his cup gently back on the table.
“Cassandra.” He paused, his eyes serious. “I hear you took some time out from the party last night.”
“Pa—” He cut off my interruption with a wave of his hand.
“No, dearest. I was shocked to hear that you were in a room with a boy on your own. This is not how you have been raised.”
My head went back. On the scale of… oh, spilling some tea on the tablecloth to, let’s say, having illegal tech hidden away in the forum, talking to a boy seemed reasonably innocent. My parents rarely had to chastise me and now I was to be taken to task for behaviour that would barely raise an eyebrow in any of my friends’ homes.
“Papa,” I sputtered, unsure how to find
the right level of indignation and casualness. “Nothing happened. Nothing.” I glared at my mother. “I don’t know what you were told, but I was gone for five minutes.” Flashback of trailing my fingers along Devyn’s bicep. “We were talking, that’s it.” The sway of my hips towards his, the warmth as the energy bounced in the tiny space left between our two bodies. “I don’t know what the fuss is about.”
What was the fuss about? Why had I behaved like that? I stared down at my untouched breakfast, resolving once more to give Devyn back his tech and get on with my life. It was the right thing to do. I lived a charmed life, and unlike many of my friends was very aware of that fact. It was likely to do with being adopted, knowing that, but for the grace of my parents, my life could have been different. Who knew what life I might have led had my real parents been alive, but sometimes I found myself looking at and wondering about people who lived lives so different from my own. Slipping through the city on the train, I watch busy people hustling about the city. People unable to afford the monorail to take them to menial unrewarding jobs that I was barely aware existed. Or worse, the mudlarks who flooded the shores of the river at low tide, desperately looking for something that would get themselves and their families through another day.
I knew I should stay away from Devyn. Whatever he was involved with… well, it could even be dangerous. Chaos in the Code. There were those who wanted to interrupt the order that governed our world, I knew. But for what purpose? Order and the Code were what kept our city safe. Did people want our lives to be like those who lived beyond the walls? Uncivilised? Primitive? I couldn’t imagine why.
I snapped my attention to my mother to find myself subject to her trademark coolly assessing look.
“Cassandra, you may tell your father what you wish, but you were standing very close to that young man. I don’t need to remind you that as our daughter, we expect you to be the best you can be. Your father is a prominent merchant in the city, and given the status of your promised partner, we cannot afford to have you behaving improperly with some nobody.”
Secrets of the Starcrossed Page 5
