by C. J. Hill
Jesse came in a few minutes later. He was dressed in jeans and a jean jacket. He was an achingly familiar face in the crowds that flowed around the first floor. He went and stood in front of the elephant display, glancing around the room. Searching for her. Would he look up here?
Tori moved behind one of the columns that stood on the balcony. She stayed there for a couple of minutes, until Jesse had time to scan the ground floor and the balconies, too.
Then she peered around the column again. Jesse was still standing in front of the elephant display, his hands thrust into his jacket pockets. He looked like he was reading the information on the elephant placard, but she knew he wasn’t. He was waiting for her.
It would be so easy for her to go down the elevator and walk over to him. He would smile, hug her, and then they’d hold hands while they decided where to go for lunch.
Tori wasn’t supposed to do that. She had told herself she wouldn’t. The nation needed her. A-team needed her. If she was strong enough to give up what she wanted most right now, it would mean she had enough self-control to fight the way she was supposed to. To be logical. To do what needed to be done.
A foreign couple stood on one side of Jesse, snapping pictures of themselves with the elephant in the background. Farther down the display a group of teenage boys were pretending to throw spears at it. Jesse stood there, unmoving.
Tori watched him for another few moments, drank in the sight of him, and told herself it would have to be enough. She couldn’t have a relationship with him while they both had dragons to fight.
Tori couldn’t leave the building, not while Jesse stood between her and the only exit. She walked a few steps down the balcony until another column blocked her view of Jesse. Even if he looked up now, he wouldn’t know she was here. She would watch the doorway until she saw him leave.
Minutes went by. Instead of feeling strong or proud of her self-control, she just felt sad, like a plant that had wilted. Self-control was way overrated. She wondered how long Jesse would wait for her, how long she would have to stand here silently, withering.
“Tori.” It was Jesse’s voice, right behind her.
She spun around, surprised. He was inches away. Rugged, handsome, and smiling at her.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked. “You couldn’t see me.” She half hoped he would tell her his counterpart sense knew where she was.
He stepped even closer to her. “I couldn’t see you, but the three guys a few feet away from me could. They couldn’t keep their eyes off someone up here. I figured it had to be a really beautiful girl.” He gestured to her with a sweeping motion. “And here you are.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m not.” He fought a smile. “Although I will admit that it helped when one of them said, ‘Hey, isn’t that Tori Hampton? You know, the chick from the Supergirl video.’”
Tori let out a sigh. “I hate the Internet.”
“Your dad is running for president. You can’t really be anonymous anymore.” His smile won out then. He put his hands on her shoulders and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Where do you want to go for lunch?”
She didn’t move. “You know, I was trying to do what you did. I was testing my resolve and being self-sacrificing. At this moment things are looking bad for the nation.”
He slid his hand into hers. “If we stayed away from each other right now, would it really make you care about me less?”
She remembered how she’d felt when the dragon wrapped her tail around Jesse. Tori had known she should shoot through the chains. Instead she connected with the dragon’s mind in an attempt to make Kihawahine let him go. “I guess not,” Tori said.
“Then let’s get lunch.” Jesse tugged at her hand, leading her toward the elevator. “We don’t know how many more moments like this we’re going to have. We might as well enjoy them.”
Tori gave in and walked with him. “I thought being self-sacrificing was what we were supposed to do. Now you’ve muddling my thinking. Apparently one of us is a bad influence on the other. I’m just not sure which of us it is yet.”
Jesse stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button. “Maybe you were right all along when you told me we shouldn’t break up.”
She smiled over at him. “So you’re saying I’m the one who’s the good influence?”
The doors slid open. “I’m pretty sure I’m the good influence.” Jesse sidestepped a woman with a stroller coming out, then towed Tori inside. “For example, I’m about to remind you that you really shouldn’t be wandering around downtown D.C. by yourself when you know Overdrake is trying to kill you.”
Tori pushed the button for the ground floor. “Do you think Overdrake comes armed to museums and I might run into him?”
Jesse tilted his chin down and gave her a look that said she was missing the point. “You’re the only one of the Slayers that didn’t pack up and disappear two weeks ago. Overdrake knows where you live. What’s to keep him from stationing people outside your neighborhood to tail you?”
“Besides the fact that I watch for that sort of thing now?”
“He’s probably just waiting for a time when you let your guard down. I think you should take one of your father’s security agents with you whenever you go out.”
Tori could have pointed out that she had better senses than her father’s security agents, or that having one along today would have made the moment when Jesse kissed her really awkward. Instead she raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to keep lecturing me? I thought you wanted to enjoy these moments.”
He sighed, smiled, and took her hand. “I do.”
She squeezed his hand. “Good, because so do I.”
A FEIWEL AND FRIENDS BOOK
An Imprint of Macmillan
SLAYERS: FRIENDS AND TRAITORS. Copyright © 2013 by C. J. Hill. All rights reserved. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available
ISBN 978-1-250-02461-9 (hardcover) / ISBN 978-1-4668-4845-0 (e-book)
Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
First Edition: 2013
eISBN 9781466848450
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