“Cat’s got a knack for computers,” I say to Ozzy.
“Ozzy’s a fucking genius on a keyboard,” Miles says. “Cat couldn’t learn from anybody better.”
Once again I find our eyes locking, and it feels like so much more intention is flowing between us than the simple words of that sentence.
“Nice outfit, by the way,” Miles says, that slow, lazy grin quirking up the right side of his mouth, showing white teeth against his tan skin.
“Thanks,” I say, blushing a little. I’ve got on Matteo’s trousers and a pair of suspenders borrowed from Chay, over a white dress shirt, with a pair of flat brown oxfords. I look like a newsie, but Miles seems to genuinely like it. He’s a sharp dresser himself, always combining unusual pairings of the uniform pieces with his extensive collection of space-age sneakers.
It’s the simplest of compliments. Yet I feel warm all the way down to my toes, and not just from the sunshine.
Ares checks his watch. “I was gonna go finish that paper on Organizational Structure before next period,” he says. “You want to come, Zoe?”
He knows I’m always down for a trip to the library. It’s probably my favorite place in all of Kingmakers. I like to go there just to breathe the scent of all that ancient paper and ink.
“Sure,” I say, scooping up my bookbag.
I raise my hand in a wave, planning to say goodbye to Miles and everybody else. But Miles isn’t looking at me anymore—he’s staring at Ares with a wholly unexpected expression. Scowling like Hedeon when Silas is mentioned. He looks like Ares just stole his blueberry muffin.
I blink, and the bizarre moment passes. Miles turns his gaze on his expensive sneakers instead.
When I say, “See you later,” he responds with a quick jerk of his head.
Ares and I head west along the wall, toward the pointing finger of the Library Tower.
Ares has a calming presence. He’s one of those people you can sit with in silence without ever feeling uncomfortable. When I do speak to him, he always answers with a smile. Still, I sometimes get the feeling he’s not actually very happy.
“How are you doing?” he asks me gently.
Cat is the only person I spoke to about what happened on the wall. I’m guessing Miles told Leo, and Leo told Ares. That, or Ares is just perceptive. Quiet people see a lot. And it’s not that subtle that I’m all kinds of fucked up.
My automatic impulse is to say, “I’m fine,” like I always do.
But there’s a strange thing about making friends. It doesn’t feel good to lie to them.
I’ve always kept my feelings locked away. Bit by bit, Anna, Chay, Leo, and Miles are bringing me back to honesty. I’ve even been more open with Cat.
So I don’t force a smile for Ares.
I say, “I’m pretty fucking tired. Of school, of family shit, and this fucking unsolvable problem always hanging around my neck.”
Ares’ jaw tightens. His forearms look strangely rigid where his hands are stuffed in his pockets.
“I understand,” he says.
I look at him curiously. “Do you?”
He meets my gaze for just a moment, his dark, untidy shock of hair falling over his eyes. Then he looks away again.
“I think so,” he mumbles. “You’re smart, Zoe. Disciplined. Loyal. It seems like it has to work out for you in the end.”
“Does it always work out for the people who deserve it?” I ask him. “Or is it all just random and fucking awful sometimes?”
He bites his lip, really considering this.
“I don’t know,” he says at last. “But I’m gonna act like there’s some kind of destiny, or karma, or whatever you want to call it. ‘Cause otherwise, what’s the point of anything? We might as well give up now.”
“And you don’t want to give up?” I ask him. Sometimes I want to give up.
“No.” Ares shakes his head vehemently. “I never want that.”
We’re quiet for a moment, Ares looking uncomfortable, as he always does when he says more than twenty words in a row.
He and I have spent a fair bit of time alone together, but I don’t know that much about him. Only that he’s from a tiny island in Greece. That the Cirillos were one of the ten founding families of Kingmakers, but they’re hardly mafia at all anymore. He grew up on a farm. He’s the oldest of four, and his younger siblings miss him desperately—he’s always writing letters to them, picking up their responses from the little post office in the village.
I know what everyone else wants to do after we graduate: Anna will take over the Polish Braterstwo and Leo will become the Italian Don. Together they’ll rule the lion’s share of Chicago.
By rights, Miles could take over the Irish territory, but he intends to go to Los Angeles instead, to make his own way in the world.
Chay is the Heir of the Berlin Nightwolves, and she already knows exactly how she’ll expand their network of tattoo shops, nightclubs, concert venues, motorcycle shops, and racing teams.
Even Hedeon has been named Heir of the Gray’s London-based empire, with his brother Silas ordained to act as his top lieutenant. How they’ll manage that when they can’t eat breakfast without trying to kill each other is beyond me, but the plan is in place.
Only Ares abstains from talking about the future.
“What will you do?” I ask him. “After we graduate?”
“Take over my father’s business,” he says at once.
“Really,” I say. “That surprises me.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’re so good at everything here. You’ve got some of the best marks in the practical classes as well as the academic ones. It’s true!” I say, as Ares shakes his head modestly. “Don’t think nobody notices just because you’re standing next to Leo all the time. Do you really want to be a farmer?”
Ares looks at me, smiling his gentle smile.
“You’re kind, Zoe,” he says. “Don’t worry about me. I like growing things.”
“Alright,” I say, shrugging. “I’d never tell you there’s no joy in a peaceful life. I’d take that deal in a second.”
We’ve reached the Library Tower. I already feel a swoop of happiness as Ares cracks open the heavy, iron-strapped door. The scent of parchment and leather hits us like a cool, dry wind. Mixed with that, a light, exotic note that just might be Miss Robin’s perfume. Her apartments are directly above the library, in the attic of its pointed roof.
We climb the spiraling stone steps to the first level. The whole library is one enormous spiral, like the inside of a conch shell. The bookshelves are curved to fit against the wall, and the floor slopes upward like one long, continuous ramp. Wedge-shaped platforms prop up the tables so our pencils don’t roll away while we’re working. It’s a bizarre design that makes the library seem infinite and endless. The thick oriental rugs and book-stuffed walls muffle the sound so you never know who might be on the levels above you.
As we ascend, my shoelace slaps against the stone steps and I stoop to tie my oxfords so I don’t trip myself. Ares continues on, not noticing that I’ve fallen behind.
Shoelace tied, I hurry to catch up with him. I hear Miss Robin’s cheerful greeting of, “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” She pauses as I rush up next to Ares, then says, “Zoe too! I should have guessed. I don’t think anyone spends more time in here than you two.”