Infinite Risk by Ann Aguirre Page A

waitress took our order, and then he shrugged out of his coat in a swirl of silky hair. This was such a bizarre echo of a scene, only last time it was Kian pretending to be my gorgeous boyfriend. The Harbinger could look however he wished, so this was just salt in the wound. There was no reason for him to come across so ethereal and rock-star perfect, unless he intended to make Kian feel shitty.
    Probably.
    â€œYou … you’re not in high school?” Kian ventured.
    The Harbinger laughed. “Hardly.”
    â€œHe just graduated,” I cut in, hoping to discourage more questions.
    A look of dancing gray amusement swung my way. “Don’t be so nervous. You know I don’t mind if you make friends.”
    That seemed to put Kian a little more at ease, though he didn’t say much. Instead, the Harbinger monopolized the conversation before and after our drinks arrived. Kian appeared to regret his hot chocolate; he stirred it more than drank.
    â€œNot good?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “Powder mix, a little too much hot water.”
    It did look gray instead of rich brown. My coffee was fine, if bitter and strong, definitely better than what I’d bought at the convenience store. The struggle to be sociable lasted for half an hour before the Harbinger polished off his second cup and curled an arm around my shoulders in a graceful slouch.
    â€œWe should go before the buses stop for the night. I’ll take you home.” Then he added, “You can put yourself back where you belong, Ian?”
    â€œKian,” he corrected.
    â€œRight. Sorry.” It was the sort of passive-aggressive bullshit a jealous boyfriend might pull, so I couldn’t bitch in present company.
    Just wait until I get you alone, “Colin.”
    We headed to the bus stop together, but Kian’s came first. From his apathetic wave and the way he didn’t turn to look at me from the bus, he wasn’t pleased. As soon as the vehicle trundled out of sight, I shoved the Harbinger away from me.
    â€œWhat is wrong with you?”
    â€œShould’ve killed me when you had the chance?” He didn’t shift to his customary appearance, however, and I wasn’t used to him looking so young.
    â€œDon’t tempt me. Why are you messing around like this? What’s the point?”
    â€œIt’ll be easier to finish the mission if people think you have a boyfriend, no? Weren’t you worried about crossing a line with the young nerdling?”
    I stared up at him, his face wreathed by the mist of my own breath. “How do you know ?”
    â€œDidn’t I already tell you that we’re bound?”
    â€œWhat the … seriously ? Can you read my mind because I fed you in a different timeline? How does that even—”
    â€œYou’ll drive yourself mad, trying to impose logic on monsters. Our world was crafted in layers, over time, born of contradictions and dark wishes.”
    â€œIf you can read my mind, I might actually end you.” I touched the gold weight of Aegis beneath the layers of fleece, yarn, and denim.
    To my annoyance, he laughed. “Then I’m safe. Sometimes I just know things about you, dearling. Not thoughts but a flicker of desire or fear.”
    The bus headlights shone in the dark, and it slowed as the driver spotted us. Smiling, the Harbinger took my gloved hand in his, and then we were gone in a swirl of darkness, just as he’d transported me after Kian’s death. This time, we appeared in my room at the Baltimore, definitely more convenient than the CTA. I switched on the light, fiddled with the radiator, uncomfortable with the intimacy he’d forced me to acknowledge between us. Sometimes I found myself thinking of him at odd times, almost missing him when he wasn’t around, and none of it made it any sense. But maybe it’s not my fault, a side effect or something.
    â€œCan we stop it?” I asked finally,