Page 54 of The Last Love Story

I pull once more, but his grip is like a vise. “And maybe that’s a good thing.”

He keeps me against his chest, his pine-colored eyes boring into mine. I hate that my nerve endings spark at histouch. I hope he can’t feel my heart, which is beating so hard that it feels like it’s shaking my ribs.

“Leave with me now, Ripley. The Machs are going to make their move soon. Whatever is planned is already in motion. I can’t stop it. And if you don’t come with me, I can’t protectyou.”

My eyes bounce between his and his nostrils flare as he senses I’m close to figuring something out.

They can’t kill the president. But they could hurt people who make the president look good—people like his beloved son, or me. If I’m with Callum, I’m in danger from the Machs.

“You can’t protect me? Or you won’t?” I whisper.

He tongues his cheek. “I won’t,” he says finally.

This time, when I yank my hand back, he lets me go.

“Are you going to hurt Callum?” I blurt. My voice breaks at the utter helplessness I feel.

Hux walks back to the door, stopping when his hand reaches the handle.

“No,” he says. And for a second, I wonder if I’m imagining the weariness in his voice. “We’re not going to kill Callum, Ripley.” He twists the knob. “Speaking of, tell your idiot to grease that hinge before he tries to sneak in here again.” As he goes, he flicks something at me. I know what it is even before it finishes its midair arc, but I can’t help but catch it anyway.

The poker chip.

I snatch the pillow off the bed and hurl it at Hux, insteadcatching the door as he closes it. It flops harmlessly against the wood and then bounces to the floor.

Something catches my eye as I turn back to the bed—

A book. Not just any book—the one I pulled from the archives earlier. Before Becka caught me.

The Lord of the Rings.Better than a carrier pigeon, I suppose. Maybe Lyceum isn’t as dead in New Washington as I thought. As Becka and Hux think.

I lift the book, spine cracking. A note falls out:

Saffron changed Orion’s mind.

Because once Orion joined Saffron at the library, everything changed.

This is their plan, then. They expect me to recruit Callum to Lyceum. The president’s son. To the rebellion.

Chapter 13

This fabric is perfect for cold, Kaleb said. That was the only indication of where we were going.

Callum met me on the tarmac, giving me a brief kiss on the cheek for a wall of camera flashes. When I glanced up questioningly, though, he looked away. He won’t lie to me—but he won’t tell me everything, I guess.

They handed us ear-protection headsets with microphones, since we’re traveling by hovercopter this time, but Callum didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at me as I slipped mine on. Still, he held my hand as the copter lurched into the air. When I squeezed his hand, he squeezed back, but neither of us said anything.

The land below stretches on and on, blurring from the neon and silver of the city into long stretches of dun, until the color seeps out into gray, into white. Snowflakes grow along the window. A shiver of anticipation sneaks along my spine.

In reply, and without dropping my hand, Callum reaches over to my leather seat and depresses a button. In a moment, heat soaks along my spine and seat, even though I’m warm in the fleece-lined boots and leggings. It’s like my chair has its own personal heater. Who knew that was possible.

I could ignore it, the cold outside. We’re thousands of feet away from the sprawling snowy tundra. With Callum’s hand in mine, I could pretend the window was just a screen. I could avoid every discomfort and fall into this script. Last night, I read until the words blurred under my eyes and then tucked the tome under my pillow for safekeeping. Not the most creative hiding spot, but that’s where Lyceum left it for me and who would think to investigate the president’s family? I left the Fellowship on their summit of Caradhras, shivering in the snow.

I turn off the seat warmer.

Finally, Callum turns to me, his eyes wary. “You look beautiful, by the way. I don’t think I’ve told you yet today.”

I try to smile back, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s just saying this for the benefit of the guards, the pilot, or the microphone at his lips.It’s just a computer, Hux had said. Computers can be hacked. The way my stomach dips has nothing to do with the altitude we’re losing in preparation for landing. We really can never talk. There are microphones and cameras everywhere.